Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,28

Ambien haze than cleaning my house. One of the hairstylists on set had told me when she took sleeping pills, she’d end up on the internet, posting weird and inappropriate things for all her friends, family, and anyone with an internet connection to see. In the mornings, she’d never have a clue what she’d done.

I couldn’t even begin imagine the media shit storm if I got on Twitter and started bashing my family.

Adley’s laughing face materialized in my mind. Yeah, she’d have gotten a kick out of that.

The oven buzzed, signaling it was ready and also reminding me of the one person who might be more entertained by my public embarrassment…Aurelia.

Remembering the day, weeks ago, when I’d wrapped early and barged in on my squatty housekeeper for the first time, I couldn’t help but laugh.

We’d both frozen. I hadn’t even had time to close the front door behind me, confronted with my elusive and possibly mystical housekeeper, where she’d stopped mid-swipe with a mop in the foyer. She already had rounded, expressive features, but with her eyes and mouth both hollowed into ovals, she looked cartoonish.

I recovered first, taking a cautious step towards her. “Er…G’day. I feel like a real yobbo for not meeting you sooner. Your work is spiffy.”

Her face contorted with confusion, a pinkish flush still visible on top of her olive skin.

I struggled to lace together the little bit of Spanish I knew, hopping I was saying something both welcoming and nonthreatening.

Her spine straightened at my sloppy attempt at communicating, and even though she stood as tall as she could, it still didn’t bring her head taller than my torso. How did someone so small drive? I remember thinking, distracted.

“I speak English, you racist,” the little lady replied in a perfect American accent. “And I’m Italian, not Mexican.”

I’d chortled once before giving in to the full throttle of laughter revving in my belly.

Ever since that day, we’d developed a love/hate relationship. I loved her, and her brash and honest grandmotherly disapproval of my life. And she pretended to hate me, scolding me whenever she could.

I kept finding delicious premade grub that she claimed to know nothing about, with strict heating instructions attached. She always went out of her way to leave sweet nothings at the bottom like, ‘try not to kill yourself with salmonella,’ and ‘better find someone to share this with or you’ll get fat and no one will want to see your movies anymore.’

When the timer finally went off, I ate until I felt sick and then reclined on the couch, hitting play on the remote to resume my place on the DVD I’d been watching the day before. I turned the volume up, letting the familiar heaviness of my native accent pour over me. I closed my eyes, and tried to soak up what little bit of home I could.

California would never be home to me, but knowing I had Madeline, Aurelia, and even Adley, to keep me on my toes, the future didn’t seem quite as dull as before.

Chapter Six

Adley

“I’ve been thinking about something.”

Declan was already sprawled across his spot in the limo when I climbed in, slamming the door behind me and slumping against the darkly tinted window. I made no acknowledgement of the movie star or his statement.

I’d been getting rides with him to and from work for the past week. Our time together was the nightmarish bookend to my already draining days with Madeline.

“You’re really unpleasant in the morning,” he noted, his tone transforming into one with a more conversational tilt.

I didn’t bother wasting the energy to open my eyes. The sun wasn’t even up yet, and I shouldn’t have been either. God, I hated everything before noon.

“That’s what you’ve been thinking about?” I asked incredulously to the backs of my eyelids.

“No,” his reply was short, making it clear he’d simply come across a subject that was currently more interesting to him than what had been his original point of torture on the agenda. I could feel his eyes inspecting me. The heat of his eyes left chill bumps I fought to suppress. “Why are you so tired?”

“Why do you care?” I murmured. My cheek was plastered to the glass. I would have been slobbering if he would have shut up and let me have the few extra minutes of sleep I yearned for.

“Because I do twice as much as you every day, and I manage to start the mornings off bright eyed and bushy tailed, while you drag about