“Gilbert, I already talked to my private investigator because I find it hard to believe everything you’ve told me. I’ll uncover the whole truth soon enough,” I overheard him saying to Gilbert.
Does that mean he’s investigating me? A wave of nervousness washed over me.
“Sir, your breakfast is ready,” I said politely. He just nodded at me.
When the interphone rang, he instructed me to answer it while he headed to the dining area.
The security guard informed me that Arlo’s fiancée, Valerie, was downstairs.
“Wait a minute,” I told the guard.
I went to Arlo at the dining table and found him eating the spaghetti I had cooked.
“What is it, June?” he asked without looking up.
“Sir, your fiancée is downstairs. Should I let her up?” I asked. He nodded without saying a word, too engrossed in his food.
I left him and informed the security guard to let Valerie up.
After a few moments, I opened the door to her.
“Oh Jesus, a ghost!” she exclaimed in shock upon seeing me.
“A ghost? Your face looks more like one,” I muttered to myself.
She looked at me with disgust, pulling herself away as if I were some kind of germ or virus. Such theatrics—what did she think I was, contagious?
She walked over to Arlo, kissed him, and glanced at the table.
“Honey, aren’t you scared of how your maid looks? I’m worried she might be a witch or something. I feel like dragging her out of the apartment,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery.
Arlo lifted his gaze from his food to look at her.
“What are you talking about, honey? My parents have known her family for a long time. And honey, this spaghetti she cooked is amazing,” he said, clearly annoyed.
“OMG! Don’t eat it—it might have a love potion!” Valerie exclaimed, grabbing Arlo’s plate.
I was fuming. This woman was way out of line. She had too much to say. If she pushed me any further, I might actually drag her out myself. What did Arlo even see in her?
“What are you staring at?” she snapped at me.
“Valerie,” Arlo reprimanded her. He glanced at me, probably sensing that I was offended by his fiancée’s behavior.
I decided to leave them and went straight to my room, locking the door behind me. I was shaking with anger and frustration at Valerie.
My phone rang—it was my mom. Thankfully, it was a voice call and not a video call.
“The kids are looking for you,” she said.
“June,” Arlo called from outside my door.
“Mom, I’ll call you back later,” I said, ending the call and opening my door.
“Sir,” I said, nearly stumbling into his chest as I swung the door open.
“LILY “
“Sir, do you need anything?” I asked him.
“Yes. Can you clear my plate from the dining table? By the way, thank you for the spaghetti you cooked. It was delicious. The flavor feels familiar, but I can’t remember where I’ve tasted it before,” he said, walking away before I could reply. Whatever—what mattered to me was that he liked it.
I felt giddy at his compliment. That made two for the day—the first was about the coffee, and now the spaghetti.
“Yes!” I said out loud in joy, throwing myself onto my medium-sized bed and giggling with excitement.
After a while, I got up and went to follow Arlo’s instructions. I grabbed a large tray from the kitchen, took a deep breath, and composed myself. A moment later, I headed to the dining table.
I could hear Valerie’s flirty laugh as if she was trying to seduce Arlo.
As I cleared Arlo’s plate, my eyes kept darting to the two of them. I held myself back from creating a scene, though I was boiling inside. Valerie’s style was infuriating—it was as if she was glued to Arlo, unwilling to let him go.
They both turned to look at me when I accidentally dropped the fork I was holding.
“Sorry,” I apologized.
Arlo gave me a brief nod. Even though he could be cold at times, I could still sense his good heart—the same kind man I once knew.
“Be careful next time. By the way, what’s your name again?” Valerie asked in a snooty tone.
“June,” I answered, holding back my irritation.
“Madam,” she corrected me.
