CHAPTER 3
Present Day
A few years ago, I wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing this ridiculous bumblebee yellow work outfit. Curse these past few years. And curse that I’m having to work three jobs just so I can afford tuition and living expenses here in Seattle.
I scowled in frustration at my reflection in one of the summer sale display windows behind the bus stop I was waiting at. It was a reflection of a girl I didn’t recognize, of some alternate me that was living in a crappy reality, an alternate me that was wearing the bright yellow maid uniform Hotel Seattle had all housekeepers wear.
And… was that dirt on my cheek? I spat on my fingers and cleaned off the mark. You must keep it together, Ellie. You must keep it together.
Drenched and hungry, I clutched my phone between my ear and shoulder. I was drenched because I’d left my umbrella at home, a stupid, stupid mistake to make any day of the year in Seattle where rain was always the order of the day. And I was hungry because my boss at Café Limone had asked me to stay a few extra minutes and those few extra minutes turned to an entire half hour, which made it so I didn’t have time to stop and get something to eat on my way between jobs.
“Please pick up, Glenda.” I was hoping I’d catch my manager, Glenda. Sometimes she’d clock in for me when I was late. The owner at the hotel made it very clear at the orientation that it was three strikes and you’re out. This was my third time being late. But I couldn’t afford to lose my job. I needed the income to complete all my pre-med requisites. Where was that damn bus? I glanced down the busy street, no bus in sight.
“Please pick up. Please pick up,” I muttered. My phone rang in with another call and I saw that it was Paul, my ex-boyfriend calling. Ugh! I had tried to break it off with him every day for over a month, but he just never seemed to get that it was really over between us. Even so, I felt compelled to answer his call.
“I really don’t have time to talk right now,” I said.
“I just wanted to invite you to see Beauty and the Beast, the Musical tomorrow night,” he said.
“Paul…” I sighed. “I appreciate the offer, but seriously. Please stop asking me out.” I briefly wondered if his persistence had anything to do with us never having gone all the way. He knew I was a virgin, and maybe he was determined to take my virginity. But I didn’t want to give my virginity to a man who felt more like a brother than a lover.
“Please, Ellie,” he said. “Just give me one more chance. I’m lost without you.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I really don’t have time to discuss this right now.”
“Then when?” he asked.
“I… I don’t know. I’ll call you.”
“I’ll do anything, Ellie. I miss you, baby doll. I can’t live without you.”
“Listen, I just… I don’t feel any chemistry with you. I’m just not attracted to you in that way.” He was a handsome enough man, with blond messy hair, a chiseled jawline, a body to die for, and deep blue eyes that could be described as spellbinding. I was attracted to him at first. But it was his desperate personality that had turned me off, his clinginess, neediness, and low self-esteem.
“Ellie—”
“Seriously, just… just leave me alone, ok?!” I was almost yelling now, and the others beside me who were also waiting for the bus glanced at me. I hung up and redialed the number to the housekeeping department at Hotel Seattle as my fingertips graced my grandmother’s diamond necklace around my neck. Doing so always made me feel calmer. For a brief moment, I remembered the day my parents gave it to me five years ago. So many things had changed since then. So much so that I didn’t even recognize my life or myself anymore.
My dad suddenly closed his practice two years ago, and a week later, he was diagnosed with lung cancer. His doctor gave him less than a year to live. So, my parents dipped into their retirement savings to travel the world, something they had put off their entire lives until they had more time. While I watched Rose, who had just turned 15, they traveled the world. A few months later they returned, and we watched as my dad, my hero, wasted away to nothing. We buried him last summer, the one-year anniversary right around the corner. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. And not a day goes by when I don’t remind myself of the commitment I made to him on his death bed: that no matter what, I’d find a way to carry on our family’s tradition of the firstborn becoming a doctor. My plan was that once I’d finished medical school, I’d open a family practice.
“Dammit, Glenda,” I muttered beneath my breath. The phone just kept ringing and ringing.
Someone bumped into me and I stumbled forward. My hands hit the window, preventing me from face-planting into the display window.
“Watch where you’re going, jerk,” I snapped. But he didn’t so much as look at me, only continued down the sidewalk, chatting loudly on his cell phone, holding his umbrella. Invisible. That’s how I felt.
Taking public transportation saved me on gas money, but it sure was less convenient in times like these. I stuffed my phone into my over-sized brown leather bag and gritted my teeth. It was time to make a run for it to save my job.
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my head jolting every time my white sneakers hit the ground. Just as I approached a crosswalk, the signal went from a flashing orange hand to a solid red hand. Screw it. I wasn’t going to wait to cross the street.
I darted across the road in front of the cars, but just as I reached the other side, my foot caught on the edge of the sidewalk, and I fell flat on my face against the pavement. Everything in my bag went flying. I didn’t have time to feel embarrassed. I needed to get my ass off the ground and continue on. I ignored my stinging palms and my shock and everyone around me who seemed to have stopped and did nothing other than ogle at the clumsy woman with two left feet.
As quickly as I could, I gathered my things and was again running. I felt like crying, but I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself even though deep down, I was having the pity party of my life.
I made it to Hotel Seattle fifteen minutes later and twenty minutes past the time I was scheduled to be there. Just as I entered the maid’s quarters, Glenda looked me up and down.
“Holy hell, Ellie. What happened?” she asked. She was the only one who knew about my crazy schedule and how life had suddenly turned upside down.
I looked down at my sopping wet dress and then I realized there was blood on it. And further, both my knees were scraped up bad, and blood was running down my shins.
“I fell,” I said. “I was trying to get here on time because the bus wouldn’t come… but I fell.”
“Oh, sweetie. Sit.” She pointed to the chair and proceeded to get the first aid kit. “I clocked you in so don’t worry, love, ok?”
I nodded, and having her be so kind to me, it was then that I lost it.
She wrapped her arms around me, and I let out a few strained cries into her black hair. Glenda was only five years my senior, but I felt she was more of a mother than a friend, always strong and always comforting, looking out for everyone she managed. It was probably why the owner, Mr. Renfeldt, had kept her on for so long.
She pulled back and proceeded to clean my wounds with hydrogen peroxide before bandaging them up.
“You’re going to run yourself to the ground if you keep this schedule going,” she said.
“It’s not like I have a choice,” I said. “You know I don’t want to take out student loans.” I was working overtime this summer, saving up for my pre-med classes. After my dad’s death, my mom was left to deal with tying up the loose ends of the practice. To pay off the remainder debt, my mom sold their house and moved to California to be closer to her sister. I didn’t ask her for money because I knew she was worried about her retirement. She had been a stay at home mom her entire life and was scrambling to find ways to plan for her golden years ahead.
Rather than moving with Mom, Rose decided to stay with me until she finished high school. It was quite cramped in my one-bedroom apartment, but it was nice to have family around. I just wished my life was a little simpler. I wished I had one good-paying job instead of three crappy-paying jobs.
“Even so, you gotta take care of yourself, hun. No one else will.” Glenda scanned my body with her deep brown eyes and sighed. I knew I looked like crap and me dripping wet and saturated with blood didn’t exactly help me in the beauty department. I’d lost fifteen pounds in two months and hadn’t had time, nor allowed myself the luxury of bleaching my hair. My dark roots were three inches long, and I must have looked like a homeless person right about now.
“Here.” She handed me a clean uniform. “Change into this. I’ll take three of your rooms today.”
“Glenda…” I started.
“It’s been a slow day. Don’t worry about it.” She waved her hand dismissively.
I nodded. She was truly a lifesaver. And I needed one. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to keep up this crazy hectic schedule before I had a quarter-life crisis.
I headed to the locker room, washed my scraped-up hands, and changed into a new yellow uniform. Like always, I carefully removed my grandmother’s diamond necklace from around my neck. It was my most valuable possession and I didn’t want to chance losing it here.
After I had locked my necklace and bag in the locker, I grabbed my cart, and headed to the top floor where all the suites were located. Glenda knew I was one of her housekeepers who was OCD about cleaning, so a week after I started working here, she promoted me to clean the rich people’s floors.
After I had rolled my cart into the service elevator, I pushed the button with the number ten on it. Once at the tenth floor, the elevator doors pinged open, and I headed into the wide hallway. I wondered if I might get a hefty tip like I did yesterday, a hundred-dollar bill with a nice note that read, “To the housekeeper. Thanks for doing such a great job!”
I started cleaning the first room, replacing towels and sheets, clearing out the garbage and vacuuming the floors. Once suite number one was sparkling, I headed to suite number two. The second I stepped inside, I stopped. The scent. It immediately reminded me of Spencer. The cologne he used was thick in the air. My heart flipped and my body froze. The last time I saw him…on my eighteenth birthday… No. I didn’t want to think about that. I’d already wasted enough time trying to understand how he could treat me so well, be so passionate, and then a few minutes later, tell me he hated me and never wanted to see me again.
I shook my head, trying to get him out of my mind. The things he had done to me over the years when we vacationed at Princess Harbor made me feel so crazy that I had thought about going to therapy. I knew my hatred toward the man was unhealthy. And it was clear that my intense hatred for him kept me tethered to him heart, body, and soul.
But this was ridiculous. What were the chances of him being here? Many men have that cologne, I’m sure. Besides, if in the very unlikely event it was him, he was gone and probably wouldn’t be back before I...
Just then I heard a deep voice in the hallway. I’d recognize Spencer’s voice anywhere as it seemed to cast an immediate spell on me. I was tempted to jump behind the curtain and hide like I had the first time I met him. Unfortunately for me, there was no way he was going to miss my cart and then he’d probably wonder where the maid was.
We had been instructed to greet the hotel guests if we ever encountered them while we were cleaning. To smile at them and make them feel welcome.
None of the things I wanted to do to Spencer.
Even if he was the last person on the planet, I’d avoid him like the plague.
He stepped into the room, his cell phone pressed to his ear, looking as sexy as I’d ever seen him in a navy suit, silver cufflinks, a silver tie, and his black hair tousled about his perfect face. I blinked, desperately trying to figure out what the hell to do with myself and this very unwelcome situation. It was as if I was immediately under his spell again… and all the feelings I’d ever felt for him—the passionate, the angry, the hateful—came rushing back with a vengeance.
He was more muscular than I remembered him being, taller, too. His impossibly dark eyes sat above high cheekbones and everything about his expression was emotionless. Only his cherry red lips gave away his humanness, that he wasn’t just a cold, calculating vampire or machine sent to earth to torment my days and haunt my nights.
He wore his usual I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-anyone expression, revealing his I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-you attitude.
When he looked up, I quickly dropped my gaze to the floor.
“Don’t mind me.” His tone was indifferent, almost annoyed, as if the housekeeper being here was a huge disappointment.
I turned around and started to make the bed, anything to make me feel like I was doing something other than having a near-panic attack. Had he forgotten me? Did he not recognize me? It would be a merciful twist of fate, although the thought of him having forgotten me so completely that he didn’t even recognize me caused my blood to boil. It was just further proof that I meant nothing to him at all.
He continued to talk on the phone, something about a business merger and the best investment of the century. I didn’t like remembering that he had always been and would always be wealthier than anyone deserved to be. I hated that he was doing better than ever and I was doing worse than ever.
While making the bed, I stole a glance at the man who mercilessly drowned me in his darkness. He looked so good it made me wish he had a smidgen of a soul. I wondered if he was just here in Seattle on business or if there was another reason. A girl, perhaps? Either way, he was staying in a hotel, which could only mean his visit here was temporary, thank God. I didn’t think I could handle knowing he lived in the same city as me. Not even the same state.
He sat on the bed I just made, and my irritation grew. Right. He was always one to take everything for granted, damn man. But it was definitely a good thing that he didn’t want to interact with me and that he didn’t recognize me. It was better for him to not know how hard I had to work just to put myself through college. That my dad died. That life hadn’t been kind to me. He would probably have liked to hear that.
I slipped past him and headed into the bathroom. Glad to be somewhat removed from his overwhelming presence, I put my gloves on and cleaned the toilet seat.
I didn’t know what would help me stop thinking about the asshole who singlehandedly made me believe all men were jerks, but in a feeble attempt to calm my heart, I put my headphones in and listened to the smooth voice of Ed Sheeran.
I was scrubbing the bathtub when I suddenly noticed a presence behind me. I looked behind me, wondering how long he had been standing there, ogling me with an impassive and contemptuous expression on his face. I had hoped he would slip away on his own, but here he was and there was no way for me to get out of acknowledging him.
His presence made my heart bounce around in my chest. I loathed that he saw me on hands and knees cleaning his tub, being a lowly hotel housekeeper, looking as disheveled and worn down as I’d ever been. I wasn’t intimidated by the bastard, but he sure as hell had a way of making my entire body stand at attention, even against my will.
I straightened and pulled the earbuds out. When he didn’t say anything, I stood.
“Do you need to use the restroom?” I asked.
“What the hell are you doing here, bitch?” he asked.
Anger rose inside. He knew who I was. Had he known all along? His gaze scanned my hair, then went to my dress, and finally to my knees. I looked down and saw that the bandages were saturated with blood. I’d never felt more humiliated in my life, and that said a lot. He’d put me through so many humiliating things I knew I’d never recover from them.
Our past stood as a blaring cross between us. His gaze locked with mine and my gut twisted violently. I thought I might faint from how erratically my heart was beating.
“Considering how you treated me the last time I saw you, a fucking apology would be appropriate.” The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Not because of the words themselves, but because he could complain to my boss and I’d be out of a job.
He stood and stared at me for a long moment, then chuckled, his laugh laced with disdain.
“I never apologize,” he said. “Especially when I have nothing to apologize for. What I want to know is what the hell you’re doing here.”
I leaned my back against the wall behind me, trying to calm my racing heart by inhaling deep, slow breaths.
“I’m working,” I said.
“I mean… what are you doing with your life?” he asked.
“That really is none of your concern,” I replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“You may not be excused.” He took a step in my direction and I retreated further into the tub to maintain the distance between us. “Why are you working here? You’re like a fucking maid?”
“Some of us have to work for money,” I snapped.
He took a step closer and his delicious scent wafted into my nostrils. I tried not to drink him in like I was always tempted to whenever he was around. I couldn’t take more of him. I was already saturated with need.
“But housekeeping?” he asked, as if to let me know my decision had been very wrong.
“It’s been a crazy-ass morning, so if you could just let me finish my job and—” I started.
“You look like shit, Ellie.”
The first and last time he had called me by my name was the last time I saw him… the night I turned eighteen. I’d tried to forget that night. But the memory had been burned into every single cell of my body… for forever I was starting to realize.
I wanted to give a smart come-back, but I could think of nothing to say.
Then I caught myself. Why the hell was I even giving him the time of day? I should just leave and come back when he was gone. Or better yet, I could have someone else clean his room. Then I’d avoid him all together.
“You’re such a disappointment. Always were,” he muttered as he eyed me.
I was used to his insults, but I just could never understand why he hated me so. I mean, what had I ever done to him? Other than my dad and his dad being friends, we had no connections. Of all the hotels in Seattle, of all the rooms Spencer could have been in, why did he end up in my room? Was this God’s cruel way of letting me know He hated me?
“I’ll get you another housekeeper so you can have a more pleasant stay.” Without even trying to offer a forced smile, I gathered my cleaning supplies and headed toward the door.
He gripped my arm and stared into my eyes with such hatred that I felt bile rising in my throat.
“I never ever want to see you again. And if I do, I will make life a living hell for you, do you understand?” he seethed.
“What did I ever do to you, asshole?” I bit out, unable to control my words.
“Not only are you a fucking disappointment, you’re the dumbest person I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting,” he said.
“You can go to hell for all I care.” I pulled my arm out of his grip and slapped him across the face. It was a complete knee-jerk reaction, an impulse I felt I had no control over.
His eyes widened and I gasped, shocked at what I had done. Immediately, I felt immense guilt and desperately wished I could have turned back time. But it was too late. His eyes took on the look of a murderer and a shiver of terror ran through me.
As quickly as humanly possible, I proceeded to pack up my things and headed into the hallway. I felt the tears stinging behind my eyes, but there was no way in hell I was going to let him see me break down and cry. The man was the devil. And deep down, I hated him. But even deeper down, I knew I still loved him.
And for that, I despised myself.
I went back downstairs to the housekeeping section and locked myself in the bathroom for a good cry. I thought about telling Glenda that I was sick, but the income was just something I couldn’t afford to lose. Summer was short and the college tuition increase was steep this year. Plus, I decided I wouldn’t let some monster of a ghost from my past come and screw with my life here and now. He’d be gone in a day or two, I gathered, and then I’d regret that I gave away any of my power to him. The jerk wasn’t worth it.
I dried my tears, blew my nose, and went back to stock my cart.
Just as I was about to head back to the elevator, Glenda approached me. There was just something very wrong about her demeanor, and I knew that what she was about to say was something I absolutely didn’t want to hear. Had my boss discovered I was late today?
Or worse… had Spencer ratted me out?
“Can I see you in the office for a minute?” she asked.
Her office? She’d never before asked to see me there. Something was definitely severely wrong.
“Sure.” I sat down in the squeaky wooden chair and she closed the door.
She sat behind her desk, a desk covered in stacks of papers beside an old, worn computer.
“Ellie…” She sighed at length and as we sat in eerie silence for what seemed like several minutes, but was more like a few seconds, she wore an expression as if she really didn’t want to tell me something.
“What?” I finally said.
“Mr. Renfeldt asked me to let you go.” Her voice was shaky, and she had tears in her eyes.
“Because I was late…”
“He said there was a complaint about you. One of the guests…”
My cheeks went ashen. I could feel it as all the blood drained from my face. Spencer did this. He got me fired because… because why!? I mean, I did slap him, but he deserved it and he knew it! How could a man be so cruel? It didn’t matter to him that I worked here. He didn’t even live here!
There was too much history between us to explain all this to Glenda. Too much anger to even formulate a sentence that would make any sense. I stood up, nodded, and turned around.
“I’m so sorry, Ellie,” she cried. “You know I don’t want to do this.”
I swiveled around and met her dejected expression.
“Did Mr. Renfeldt say why?” I asked.
She hesitated for half a moment, then said, “I’m not supposed to tell you, but Spencer King is considering buying this hotel. He said you had a messy past and that was it.”
I squeezed my hands into fists, fighting the urge to run up to his suite and vandalize it… throw the TV out the window… Rip down the curtains and pour gasoline all over the carpet before I lit that thing on fire. But I was still sane enough to know that that wouldn’t be a good idea.
“We did,” I said.
“If you need a letter of recommendation or referral or anything, I’d be happy to give that to you,” she said.
“Thanks.” I opened the door, and in a numb march, I found my way to the locker room. While changing into regular street clothes, I tried my hardest not to think about what a dick Spencer was being. Tried not to imagine all the ways I wanted to end his life, or at least make it so miserable I’d break him. And I definitely tried not to think about how he’d torn my heart to shreds without so much as a second thought. Seeing him again had made me realize how helpless I was to the man, what an enemy he was, and even after all he had put me through, how utterly stupid I was to allow my heart to long for him.