I decide to get out and see if I can’t hunt down the security supervisor myself when I see a woman walking from the center of the village down the dirt road toward the cabins. She’s going to pass by my car anyway, so I roll my window down and wave her over.
“Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I’m here for a job and I was wondering if you could help me out. I’m a cleaner and I’m supposed to be working for a woman—”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Are you Raelynn?”
My relief is palpable. “Yes.”
She unfurls an infectious smile. “Good timing! I’m Leanna, or Lele, whichever works. I’m the one who hired you.”
I look past her, toward the main house, and try not to let on how overwhelmed I am. That place is huge and there’s no way I’ll be able to clean it all by myself in just a few hours.
She must follow my line of thinking because she points back down the dirt road. “I’m actually staying back in the cabins. There’s room for you to park out front. Mind if I just hop in and we can go back together? My feet are killing me.”
“Sure. Yeah. Of course.” I barely have time to swipe my diner uniform from the seat and pick up my lunch before she opens the passenger door and hops in.
“Here,” she says, taking the to-go container from me and setting it back on her lap. “Don’t worry about all that. I’ll only be in here for a second. My cabin is just up there on the right a bit.” She turns her attention to my lunch. “God this smells good. What’s in here?”
“Oh. Just a burger and fries.”
“Really?”
Her eyes go wide with interest, and I know it’s weird to just meet someone and offer them your meal straight away, but my nan ingrained Southern hospitality into me deeply.
“If you’re hungry, you can—”
“Would it be weird if I—”
We both laugh as she opens the lid and steals a few French fries. “God, sorry. I don’t mean to steal your food. I’m in my first trimester and having the weirdest cravings and aversions. Of course it doesn’t help that I’m stuck out here eating the food the nutritionists have set up for the guys. Every meal consists of healthy fats and complex carbs and all that crap, but I just want some French fries! God these are good.”
I laugh. “There’s a packet of ketchup in there you can open if you want.”
“No, no. I can’t. Look at me stealing your meal and I don’t even know you! You should eat your lunch,” she says, closing the container and crossing her hands on top of it as if to keep herself from eating any more.
“I’m done with it,” I insist. “Eat what you want. Is this the cabin?”
“Yeah, just park up there.”
I do as she says then kill the engine. Her eyes are down on my lunch again, and I shake my head. “I mean it. Take the rest. I didn’t touch the other half of the burger and it was cut down the middle by Cook back at the diner, so it’s not like I had my hands all over—”
That to-go container is whipped open in a flash and she’s got a huge bite of burger stuffed in her mouth before I can even finish my sentence.
“You’re an angel,” she says with her hand covering her full mouth. “A literal angel. God, this is good.”
I leave her in there to eat while I pop the trunk and start unloading my cleaning supplies. A moment later she joins me, shaking her head, still chewing.
“Here, let me help you.”
I shoo her away. “No, I got this. I’m used to it.”
I drag out my vacuum and mop, along with a caddy of cleaning products, scrub brushes, and sponges.
Leanna eats one last French fry then closes the to-go container. She wears a sheepish smile as she follows me inside.
The place is set up like a studio apartment with a small kitchen, living room, and bedroom. The only separation is between the main living space and the bathroom in the back corner. The walls are covered in a smooth blonde wood, there’s a wood-burning stove that looks mostly for show, and the kitchen is modern. The furniture is all neutral whites and brown leather, and the black plumbing fixtures pair well with the artwork. The whole place is Instagram-worthy, that’s for sure.
The thing is though, it looks nearly spotless.
Leanna’s wringing out her hands. “So yes, as you can see, the place doesn’t need much.”
I nod and set my vacuum by the front door.
“Just some light cleanup, maybe…oh! And you could help me put away the laundry they send away for us.”
I glance over at her from beneath my lashes, seeing the worry lines between her brows.
I think she feels embarrassed by how little there is for me to do, but there is, in fact, nothing really. Still, I don’t want to make her feel bad.
“Yeah, these floors could use a good vacuuming too,” I add. “There’s dust everywhere.”
Her brows shoot up. “Really?”
“Oh yeah. Look at that,” I say, dragging my foot across the floor and gathering up absolutely no dust, but we both pretend we see something.
So begins an hour-long cleaning session where I wipe already clean surfaces and rearrange already neatly arranged items. Leanna follows me around, helping and talking. We put away her laundry and I give the bathroom a once-over. I’m supposed to be here all afternoon, and dread fills my stomach when I realize this job won’t pay nearly as much as I thought it would. I’m paid by the hour, so a job this small is hardly worth doing, especially considering the gas I burned to get all the way out here.
“I think that should do it,” I say, starting to loop up the vacuum cord.
“Wait. Really?” She looks panic-stricken. “But what about—”
She points vaguely at the windows I’ve already wiped with Windex, then at the kitchen where I’ve already loaded the dishes and cleaned the sink and buffed the fixtures. There’s nothing keeping me here except Leanna’s puppy dog eyes.
“Do you have another job to get to?” she asks as I start gathering my supplies near the door.
“No. This was my only house on the books this afternoon. Usually they take a little longer.”
“Oh right. Yeah. That’s okay though because maybe I could keep you on the clock and we could just…hang out?”
Her eyebrows are up near her hairline and her smile is brimming over with hope.
On paper, this woman has everything. I mean, she’s obnoxiously gorgeous: black skin a few shades lighter than her eyes, full lips, slice-through-your-heart cheekbones, and a high slicked-back ponytail. She’s dating or married to a professional athlete, living in a cute cabin in the woods for the foreseeable future. I bet she could be friends with anyone, and she wants to be friends with me? Why?
“I know how this looks,” she says, holding up her hands. “Crazy lady invites you to a cabin in the woods, steals your food, then pays you to hang out.” She cringes. “Yes, I’ll admit that all seems pretty weird. It’s just that I’m stuck out here in the middle of nowhere while my husband trains like a bazillion hours a day and I’m bored out of my mind. You’d think the other wives would be friendly, but”—she leans in close—“they’re actually super bitchy and cliquey. I’ve only been with Trey for two years, so they expect him to drop me at any moment and move on to some new hot thing. But Trey’s not like that. Not at all. We’re in love.” She rubs her belly. “I mean, clearly.”