Rich Prick – Tijan Page 0,5

back to Fallen Crest, my stomach was cramping. I’d forgotten to eat today, and I wasn’t altogether sure I’d eaten the granola bars I’d packed for yesterday either. Either way, I knew there’d be food for me at home. Though my parents employed a chef, I had a craving for a nice juicy, greasy cheeseburger, so I made a stop. One burger. One fry. One soda, and soon I was heading for the newest section of Fallen Crest.

I slowed, pulling up to the gate.

The attendant rolled his window down.

“Heya, Mr. Carl.”

That’s how he’d introduced himself to me, and though I didn’t know if Carl was his first or last name, it’s what I called him.

Mr. Carl was middle-aged. I never knew for certain how old he was, but in my mind he was fifty-three. Gray hair. Wrinkles all over his face. And a smile. He was always smiling. He had a little paunch, but he said it was because the “missus” enjoyed feeding him too many dumplings. Was it sad that I hadn’t known what dumplings were? I’d had to google them, and then I asked our chef, Benny, to make them. He looked as if I’d committed a terrible crime, but he made me dumplings that night.

And chili. I liked his chili the most.

I now asked for it once a week. He made it with turkey meat, said it was healthier that way.

I didn’t care. I enjoyed it.

Mr. Carl was smiling at me like he always did, but then he frowned a little. “You okay, Miss Aspen?”

“I’m good.”

“Your parents aren’t home. They’re in the studio editing that new piece they’re working on.”

I nodded, not feeling a thing. “Thanks for letting me know.”

He dipped his head, gave a wave, and the gate opened.

I drove through. These days we lived in the newly gated section of Fallen Crest. We were all the way at the end, set on a peninsula. There were woods and a river winding around the lot. We were the hardest to get to, and we had the most privacy.

Driving up, I pulled Maisie to the far garage door.

We had a five stall, and I used the last one.

Walking through the empty garage, I felt a mix of emotions.

I knew Sandy, our cleaning lady, was likely here. She was Monday through Friday, but I knew she popped in on weekends too. She took care of the entire house, and it was a large one, so there were always places to clean. She and Benny managed just about everything. There was an outside maintenance guy. He mostly tinkered with the lawn and landscaping. We really didn’t need him that much. The back lawn didn’t take too much work.

I think he mostly came because he liked to flirt with Benny.

It wasn’t a lawn day today, so that meant it was just Sandy and Benny inside, and true to form, I found them having coffee when I walked in.

“Miss Aspen!” Sandy jumped up, but I waved her off.

“I’m good, Miss Sandy.”

She wavered, frowning. “We thought you were on a camping trip this weekend.”

See? It was something I liked doing, not just to eavesdrop on parties.

I shrugged. “I decided against it. Mr. Carl said my parents are in the studio today?”

Benny had gotten up, and now was coming back with a plate of cookies. He set them on the table, offering an encouraging smile my way, but he didn’t push them.

I held up my fast food bag. “I got food, Benny.”

He ducked his head with a shy smile. “That smells delicious as well.”

We’d come a long way from his heart attack over making dumplings. Now I could bring fast food in here—and look at that. He’d just smiled and nodded. Progress.

I set the bag on the table and went out to get the rest of my stuff. When I came back inside, the cheeseburger was now on a plate, the fries in a small dish, and Benny had a dipping sauce in another smaller container.

Classy all the way. That was Benny’s motto.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

Another dip of his head. “Do you need anything else, Miss Aspen?”

I shook my head. I’d never really asked for anything.

He hesitated, glancing back before moving into the kitchen. I heard the faucet turn on and the clank of pots. Miss Sandy came in behind me from the garage. She’d helped bring in my bag and was already going through it, pulling out the clothes she thought needed to be laundered. That was everything, even though I’d only