a fake smile. “We have to go and tell our beloved big brother how excited we are to be home.”
They run off, skipping up the stairs two at a time with their laughter flowing behind. “Be a darling,” one calls, mimicking their mother. “Fetch our belongings.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
What just happened right now? His bitch mother and bratty twin sisters are back. For good and desperate to make my life a living hell.
Fuck my life. I won’t stand for this. I’m going to run these bitches out of here so damn fast. They won’t take him away from me and if they’re serious about wanting to be in his life for the right reasons, then they’re going to have to get used to the fact that we’re together because I’m not going anywhere.
As for their fucking luggage … they can deal with it themselves. I’m not their personal slave. Fuck them. They got the bags up the first sixty-six steps, I’m sure they can manage the last grand staircase by themselves. Just think how accomplished they’d feel achieving that all by themselves.
I go to walk away when it hits me—how is this going to look to Colton? I want him to see his mother and sisters for the bitches that they are, not me. If he thinks I’m making matters worse, he might just push me away. After all, I can guarantee that his mother is going to be in his ear about finding an appropriate girl to be with and not staining their precious reputation.
Fuck. I don’t want to lose him. I can’t. Things only just got good between us. I don’t want to risk losing him because his mother wants to play mind tricks and take everything from him. I can’t even go and complain to him because his sisters are just moments away from offering to suck his dick for attention and I have no doubt that they’re already telling him about the beyond awful experience they just had with the help.
I look back at their stupid luggage.
I have no choice.
Heaviness sinks into my stomach and I find myself dragging my feet as I move toward their bags. I’ll just deliver their stupid bags and get the queen bitch her wine, and then I can go and find Colton and explain that I was being a perfect angel. Sounds like a solid plan to me. If anything, I can consider this my yearly dose of exercise.
With that, I curl my fingers under the handle of the first bag and get my ass moving.
By the time I’ve delivered the final bag and have dropped down on the final step, my calves are aching, but it’s not over yet. I still need to get Laurelle her stupid glass of … wait. What did she want? Actually, I don’t give a shit. She'll get what I give her and should hope that I don’t accidentally trip and ruin her white blouse with red wine in the process.
I make my way back into the staff quarters and after quickly glancing around and not finding Mom anywhere, I pull out my phone and give her a quick call. “What’s up?” she answers almost immediately.
“Do you know where Charles’ personal wine cellar is?”
“Huh?” she grunts as I hear the buzz from the vacuum cleaner in the background. “Why do you need his personal stash?”
“Haven’t you heard? Laurelle and the twins are back, and she’s insisting that I fetch her wine from his personal cellar. Either he keeps the good shit down there or it’s just another way she can make him roll in his grave.”
Mom lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I noticed they were here. Laurelle has already had a quiet word with me about my misbehaved daughter. She would have had to say something good to get a reaction out of you that warrants a mother to mother conversation.”
“She was … very pleasant.”
“Oh, honey. Please don’t cause any issues. I’m sure she’ll only be here for a while before they move on again.”
“Hope so,” I grumble.
Mom lets out a sigh and I listen as she turns off the vacuum cleaner. “Do you want to call it a day and I’ll grab the bottle of wine?”
“No, it’s alright. You have enough on your plate already, and besides, I have a feeling that if I don’t jump to her every command, she’s going to figure out a way to make me regret it.”
“I hate that I think you’re right,” she mutters. “Just remember