Stiletto Secrets (4 page)

EMMA
got into the cab and let out a breath.

What was that? She had never experienced such a thrill with any client before. Sure, she hadn’t been doing the stripping gig for very long—two months, and only on Saturday nights—but when Mr. Blake stepped into her booth staring at her stiletto cabinet like it was the pearly gates of heaven, she was immediately taken by him. With ink-black hair and a body that filled out that expensive suit like he had been born in it, he just seemed like male perfection personified. Emma only wished she could have seen his eyes which were hidden behind the blindfold. Were they dark brown, green, or blue even? Somehow she imagined them to be a dark brown, all mysterious and beautiful.

Emma leaned her head back and sighed. She had broken a few rules with Mr. Blake tonight, rules she had set out herself. Emma had vowed to never allow herself to enjoy any of her shows. She would not get drawn into that world by embracing the wild side of her that always seemed to poke its little head out whenever she pulled on those heels. And so far she had succeeded in that until tonight.

When she saw those full, inviting, delicious looking lips of his that seemed like they could transport a woman to heaven with one single kiss, she had to fight extremely hard not to lose her resolve. But then he threw her for a loop when he opened his dirty mouth and started to move beneath her. Within seconds he had her insides burning with desire, and she had to bite her lip to keep from panting.

Emma glanced at her wristwatch when the cab stopped outside of her apartment building. It was just past two a.m. and she wondered if Lizzy was back from her date. She’d better be.

As Emma got out of the cab she straightened her pencil skirt and blouse making sure that there was no trace of her night as a working stripper. It had been a slow night, but she was thankful for that in a way. After her heated show with Mr. Blake, she was too flustered to go on anyway.

When she stepped into her apartment she saw that Lizzy’s purse was on the side table next to the door. Another thing Emma was thankful for—her sister was home safely. Just about to head down the hall, Lizzy came walking out of the kitchen holding a glass of milk.

“Is this the time to get home?”

Emma snorted. “Am I not the older sister here?”

“Then why am I not the one sneaking in after two a.m. in the morning?”

“Because you’re not the one with a job yet.” Emma crossed her arms in front of her chest. “How was your date with Tray?”

“Good. We had dinner and saw a movie, and he had me home before midnight. Does that score him a few extra points with you?”

“Major points.” Emma smiled. “Well, I’m exhausted.” She pulled off her shoes and walked over to Lizzy, placing a loving kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Emma?”

“Yeah?” She turned back to face Lizzy.

“Do you think that if Dad had known it would turn out this way, that he would have still married her?” Lizzy looked down at the floor while clutching her arms tightly around her chest.

Even though Emma and Lizzy had both lost their parents, Emma felt sorrier over Lizzy’s loss than her own. Emma had at least experienced a few years of happiness with their parents—times when the halls of their home had been filled with laughter and love. Lizzy had none of that. She never knew their mother, and their father just wasn’t the same man after their mother had passed. Which is probably why Emma felt the strong urge to protect Lizzy now, to give her everything she could, trying to make up for what Lizzy had lost.

“No. I don’t think Dad would have married Lillian if he knew that she would do what she did.”

Lizzy turned her head to the side, and Emma knew she was avoiding eye contact, which meant that she was close to tears.

“Lizzy?” Emma walked over to her. “Dad was lonely. He had two girls he needed to take care of. Lillian used that, and she played him like a drum.”

“I know that. But why couldn’t he have seen her for what she was then? We could.” Lizzy tried to mask her heartache with anger, and Emma placed her hands on Lizzy’s shoulders.

“I don’t know. But what I do know is that he loved us, and he never would have done anything to hurt us.”

“But he did!” Lizzy cried and pulled Emma’s hands off her shoulders. “He did hurt us. He hurt us by leaving us behind with
her
and that bitch of a daughter of hers.”

“Elizabeth—”

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? That I don’t know where you sneak off to every Saturday night?”

Emma suddenly felt ill, her stomach dropping to the soles of her feet.

“I know what you’re doing, Emma. And I also know why you’re doing it,” Lizzy said softly without sounding judgmental. “I know that you dance for money, so that I can stay in law school.”

What Emma had feared would happen, finally did. She had tried so hard to keep everything a secret from Lizzy, to protect her from all this hurt and confusion.

“Lizzy, I’m sorry. I don’t—”

Lizzy stepped up to her. “You’re not the one that should be sorry. He should. Daddy. It’s his fault.”

Emma shook her head. “He’s dead, Lizzy, there’s no use in blaming him now.”

“But I do. I do blame him.” Tears had now started to run down Lizzy’s cheeks, and Emma struggled to swallow her own. She had to stay strong, for Lizzy’s sake. “You know what I think? I think he knew exactly what type of woman Lillian was. He knew she was a gold digging whore.”

“Lizzy!”

“But he just didn’t care. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle
me
, so he thought that bringing home another woman would help him take care of us, help to take
me
off his hands.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Lizzy exclaimed, her tears turning into sobs. “Every time he looked at me, all he saw was the girl that killed his wife.”

Pain, so much pain and hurt echoed through Lizzy’s words that Emma felt the sting of sorrow in her own heart.

Emma reached to her, “Lizzy, that’s not—”

“Don’t!” Lizzy jerked back. “Just. Don’t. You are out there every Saturday night dancing for men because of me. Dad brought that witch into our lives because of me.
Everything
is my fault.”

And then Lizzy hurried down the hall into her room and slammed the door shut. Shocked, hurt and aching in every part of her soul, Emma stood in the hallway listening to her little sister crying in her room. Gut-wrenching, anguished sobs filled Emma’s ears and drowned everything good from her heart.

She understood Lizzy’s pain, her sister’s need to vent. And she also understood how Lizzy could blame herself for what had happened to them. Lillian had placed all those poisonous thoughts inside Lizzy’s mind. Lillian was the one who condemned Lizzy by putting all the blame on her.

Emma still remembered the day she and Lizzy left their home after her father’s death. Emma was seventeen years old, and Lizzy was only twelve.

Lizzy had been crying, sobbing, grieving their father’s passing, and when Lillian wanted to get rid of all their father’s belongings, Lizzy freaked out. She screamed, and begged, and pleaded, and cursed for Lillian to leave his stuff. And when Lillian had finally had enough, she lashed out by telling Lizzy that everything was her fault, that she was the reason their father never recovered because he had to look into the eyes of his wife’s murderer every single day of his life. Lillian’s daughter just stood in the corner laughing as Lizzy continued to sob.

That was the day Emma took her little sister and moved to their grandparents. Lizzy was never the same after that. Nothing was the same.

Feeling exhausted and mentally drained, and eyes drenched with her own tears, Emma took a quick shower and got into bed. She didn’t hear Lizzy’s crying anymore and hoped that she had fallen asleep. She wished with all her heart that she could have taken away Lizzy’s pain, her guilt. Emma wanted to be so much more for Lizzy than she currently was, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know what Lizzy needed her to be. All she knew was that she was trying her best, doing everything she could to make life easier on her little sister.

Emma closed her eyes hoping that sleep would take her. It would be her last day to sleep in late since she was starting a new job on Monday. With the little inheritance Emma and her sister had left, she needed to work two jobs in order to pay for Lizzy’s tuition. The stripping gig paid well, but unfortunately Emma was only given one night per week since there were a lot of girls who wanted their time in the spotlight. Plus, the owner of the club believed in changing it up, not having the same girls and shows over and over again. Since her previous second job as a cashier at the local supermarket didn’t pay very well, Emma had no choice but to find a different job that guaranteed a slightly higher income. So come Monday she would be wearing something entirely different from the leather and lace she wore every Saturday night.

* * * *

On Monday morning Emma arrived at the place of her new employment. It was five a.m. exactly. Yup, she was instructed to start her first day at five a.m. sharp since there would apparently be a lot of prepping before she could start her daily duties.

While the taxi came to a stop, Emma gawked at the mansion in front of her. Lit up by various lights against the early morning darkness, was a beautiful double story French chateau-style mansion—opulent and so, so grand. It reminded Emma of pictures she had seen in magazines of sixteenth century French mansions and castles. The mansion featured a steeply pitched hipped roof highlighted by cast-iron cresting. Encrusted with decorative flourishes, the handsome masonry exteriors of smoothed square limestone were graced with full width balconies. Paired windows divided by heavy stone mullions combined with semi-circular bay windows seemed like they would light every room in the house perfectly. There was a huge fountain right in front of the house, in the middle of the circular driveway. The fountain was decorated with statues of horses and birds, and it was incredibly romantic. Emma got the idea that whoever lived here most definitely had a taste for romance.

Suddenly Emma’s stomach turned with nerves. Maybe she had bitten off more than she could chew with this job. But it was too late to turn around now. Besides, how hard could it be? Her job was simple. Follow instructions exactly and stay out of the residents’ way as much as possible. Simple.

When Emma got out of the cab and stared up at the massive, but very impressive building, she absentmindedly glided her hands down the navy blue maid’s uniform. Even though being a maid wasn’t a glamorous job, this job did pay more than the going rate, and it would allow Emma to have enough toward giving Lizzy a better life.

So the next two hours passed quickly. Yeah, it took Beth, the head maid two hours to give Emma the grand tour of the mansion. But throughout the entire tour Emma was in awe as she took in the splendor and luxurious décor. Beautiful natural toned drapes of what seemed like the finest silk and linens set against roughhewn stone and peeling paint, together with lavish chandeliers, bleached wood and ancient beams set a divine contradiction of the huge chateau’s charm. But everything just worked perfectly and it somehow made her think of the home she and Lizzy once had when their father was still alive. Emma had to fight the unwelcome urge to give into the very unhealthy feeling of nostalgia at that moment. She had to concentrate on her new job and not screw it up.

“How many bedrooms does this house have exactly?” Emma looked around as they continued down one of the many halls with carpet covered floors.

“Eighteen bedrooms along with twenty bathrooms,” Beth answered.

Beth seemed like she was in her early fifties, her dark hair grayed on the sides with a few wrinkles, evidence that she had not had an easy life. Emma instantly liked her. Beth had a real mother hen way about her.

“Your responsibility will be to maintain the south wing. There are four maids, and three gardeners, and together we make sure that this house is always in perfect condition,” Beth continued. “There are also two chefs who alternate shifts since the master of the house is quite picky when it comes to meals and catering. Oh, and that reminds me,” Beth turned to her with a serious look on her face, “do not speak to the master without being addressed first. Understood?”

Okay. There was a definite warning in her voice, and Emma knew that that was probably the most cardinal rule in making a success of her new job…as a maid. At least she was a maid in one of the most glamorous homes she had ever seen in her life.

“And on occasion you will be expected to sleep in—especially when the master entertains guests.”

“Sleep in?” Emma felt slightly panicky. “But not over weekends right? I did understand correctly that this job was week days only?”

“That’s correct yes.”

Emma immediately relaxed.

“On weekends it’s only me and the chefs, no other staff members are allowed here over weekends. If there is entertainment over weekends, we usually get the help of caterers.”

Emma nodded. “Sleeping in every once in a while during the week should not be a problem.”

“Good.” Beth smiled. “Now let’s get to work.”

It was seven thirty a.m. when Beth instructed Emma to take the tray of coffee to the dining room. Apparently coffee needed to be served at exactly seven thirty in this house.

Just as she stepped into the foyer on her way to the dining room she heard voices coming from up the stairs.

“We had an amazing time,” a woman said with a low, soft voice.

“Oh yes we most certainly did,” a different voice said.

“Well, ladies, I assure you I enjoyed myself immensely in your company last night.” She heard a man’s voice, a voice that sounded really, really familiar. And then a choir of giggles erupted as they came down the stairs from the second floor.

Emma quickly stepped back out of sight and peeked around the corner. Their backs were turned to her as they walked toward the front door. There was a young man wearing sweatpants with no shirt, and his arms were draped around the waists of the two women that flanked him.