Chapter 3
“Faye?”
In the back of her mind, she heard someone call her name, but Faye ignored that niggling sound, preferring to think about the paintings, trying to pinpoint exactly what it was about them that was so different while she hurried down the sidewalk, ignoring the sun beating down on her head and shoulders. She went through her list of paintings in her mind, over and over again, staring at the sidewalk as she pondered the…!
“Faye!” a harsh, male voice snapped and, at the same time, someone grabbed her arm, pinching her skin with hard fingers.
Turning, she flung her heavy bag around, ready to tackle whoever had halted her momentum.
But as her eyes focused on the man standing in front of her, the anger cleared and a stunned shock slammed into her as she stared up at the smiling face. There was even a shiver of fear as she stared into the eyes of a man she’d thought to be firmly in her past.
Carefully, Faye backed away even as she forced her lips into a smile. “Scott!” she gasped, stepping backwards one more step. “What are you doing here, in Skyla?”
Scott Roland, her step-brother from back home, laughed, releasing her elbow and stretching his arms out wide. “Is that any way to greet your step-brother?” he asked.
Faye cringed and once again stepped backwards, needing more space between herself and this man. “We weren’t ever very close,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as if to ward him off. She’d always felt a creepy, skeevy sensation whenever Scott was around. He was older than her by about five years, so by the time her mother had married Scott’s father, Scott was already in college while Faye was finishing off her last two years of high school. But whenever Scott had come home for a visit, she’d always felt…icky. Scott had a way of looking at her that caused alarm bells to scream.
“I’m here on business,” he replied, his eyes narrowing as he took in her defensive posture. “What about you?”
“Same,” she replied, feeling lame even though it was the truth.
He snorted. “The little shits that take your high school art class need an understanding of Skyla’s art world?”
Faye’s whole body tightened at the sneering response. His demeanor was offensive and dismissive, insulting Faye and her life’s work. Good grief, this man irritated her! He was even worse as an adult!
Shifting on her feet, she tried valiantly to smile politely. “I know that you’re not a fan of art history, but I am. A lot of people find art soothing and interesting. Good art reveals truths in our souls that we weren’t aware of.”
He laughed again, shaking his head. “Whatever.” He moved closer. “But since you’re here, why don’t I take you out for lunch?” he asked. His eyes shifted lower and Faye wished that she had a scarf or something to hide her body from his lecherous glances.
“I’m sorry, Scott, but I need to get to work.” With that, she turned around and headed back towards the hotel, praying that he wouldn’t follow her. Just to be kind, she turned and said over her shoulder, “It was nice running into you again. Good luck with your business!” She bit her lip at the obvious lie as she raced down the sidewalk, desperate to get away from the man.
The hotel locker room was busy when she stepped through the employee entrance but Faye smiled to several of her coworkers as she rushed over to her locker. Quickly, she changed into her uniform, grabbed the cleaning cart filled with all of the toxic cleaning supplies that had torn up her hands over the past several weeks, and pushed the heavy cart down the hallway along with the others on the cleaning team.
For the next eight hours, she cleaned mirrors, scrubbed toilets, sanitized showers, stripped and remade beds, fluffed pillows and cleared away the disgusting plates and dishes that the previous temporary tenants of each room had left on the hallway floor after devouring a late night snack from the room service menu. The plates were now crusted with dried food and surrounded by trash, but Faye picked everything up and cleaned until her back ached.
The rooms in this hotel were actually beautiful. The upscale grey and white décor was enhanced by tasteful art and lush green plants. But the biggest and best room was the penthouse. Faye hadn’t ever seen that space, being the lowest on the seniority list for cleaning employees, but she’d heard about it. The two-story apartment was reputed to be lovely, with crystal chandeliers and wide, soft sofas, several bedrooms and even a small kitchen, although normally the food would be prepared in the hotel’s main kitchen on the ground floor. That food would then be whisked up to the penthouse via a special food elevator and received in a butler’s pantry manned by a genuine butler and served on fine china.
At the end of her shift, Faye rubbed medicated lotion onto her painfully sore hands, ignoring the sting as the cream sank into several new cuts and blisters. As she put her street clothes back on, Faye wondered what it would be like to spend just a few nights in the penthouse suite. She imagined it would be nice, having servants wait on her, prepare her meals and, even better, she’d never clean another toilet again!
“You okay?” one of the other housekeeping team members asked, slamming her locker closed as everyone slowly grabbed their personal items and moved towards the exit, heading to their homes. At this point in the day, no one moved very fast. The energy required to clean just one hotel room was shocking, and each of them had cleaned more than twenty that day.
“I’m fine,” she sighed, knowing that it was a lie.
The woman looked at Faye’s hands, then at her own roughness as well as scars from where her skin had cracked and blistered, then healed over. “You really should have those blisters looked at. They don’t look good.”
Faye spread her hands out wide, nodding her acknowledgement of the abuse. “I know. I think you’re right.” But she simply pushed her hands into the pockets of her skirt. “I’ll do that on my next day off.” It was another lie. She didn’t have any health insurance here in Skyla, because the country’s national health care was only for citizens. It was actually pretty good, but as a foreigner on a temporary visa, she didn’t have a health card. So she’d have to pay out of pocket for any doctor’s visit. Unfortunately, she didn’t make enough money to risk a doctor’s visit. Better to wait until she got home to Georgia where she could use her teaching job’s health insurance.
Until then, she’d just make sure that her hands were clean and use lots of lotion.
Stepping out of the building through the employee entrance, Faye lifted her face up to the slowly fading sunshine, pushing the issue of her hands out of her mind for the moment. It was a beautiful night and Faye loved the warmth of this country, as well as the friendly people and exotic foods. Unfortunately, the aches in her back and feet from the day’s work clamored for relief.
It was only five o’clock in the evening when she let herself into her tiny apartment, but she tumbled onto the small bed and slept the sleep of the dead, exhaustion hitting her harder than any time before.
Unfortunately, she didn’t sleep very well. She had dreams of a tall, muscular man ordering her about. Faye shivered in her sleep as she disobeyed every order the man gave her, enjoying his growling “retribution” for her disobedience.