Fake Maid by Cassie Mint

Seven

Eli

Coral Walsh is a liar.

At least, this one is. There seem to be two. At first, I think I must remember it wrong. She tucks her hair behind her ear with her left hand, and I frown at the screen of our video call. The imposter keeps talking, that familiar face solemn but her voice softer than before. She trips over some words, her cheeks flushing at her stutter.

Her left hand. She used her left. The hand that wore a cast.

Something’s not right.

A memory tickles the back of my brain. A red-headed maid with a stutter, quietly cleaning my office while I worked at the desk.

It’s her. This is Coral Walsh. A woman I’ve seen many times before in my life, but who I’ve never spared a second thought for.

So who the hell did I lose my mind over? Who took my breath away the second I saw her?

Coral’s still talking, gravely informing me that what happened between us was a mistake. Except I’ve never touched this woman. Does she think I’m a complete fool? Does she think I can’t see the different way she holds herself, hear the different cadence to her voice?

“Miss Walsh,” I interrupt. She blinks at me. “I expect you at work tomorrow morning.”

I hang up without another word, tossing my phone onto my desk. I’m tired of all the lies. My hand aches inside my cast, a physical manifestation of my dark mood, and I tip back in my chair and drum my fingers on the wood.

A twin sister. Obviously. One who lives in the area—perhaps even with Coral. I pull up the email my assistant sent earlier with Coral Walsh’s details. I scroll down to the address and stare at it with dry eyes.

Just a conversation. That’s all I want. An explanation from the girl who turned me inside out. Then I’ll leave her alone.

I check Coral’s listed emergency contact, mouth twisting at the name written there, then push back my chair and stride out of the office.

* * *

I sit in the idling limousine, staring up at the apartment block. It’s modest but charming, with plain features but plants, string lights, and colorful blinds in most of the windows. The people who live here may not be wealthy, but the stairs are swept clean and the squares of warm light in the windows make my chest ache with longing.

This apartment block puts my empty mansion to shame. I clench my jaw, staring up at the windows.

I’ll go and knock in a moment. I’m gathering my thoughts; trying to swallow back the anger of being lied to so that I don’t scare her away.

Billie Blue Walsh.

The little liar who stole my heart.

“Sir?” the driver calls. “Shall I park up?”

I gust out a sigh. “No. Wait here.” I won’t be long. Billie made herself clear earlier: she wants nothing more to do with me. I just need to understand what the hell happened today, then I’ll give her all the space she wants.

Even if it hollows me out. Even though I miss her so badly I can’t breathe properly.

Warm evening air washes over me as I throw the door open, stepping out onto the sidewalk. I scowl up at the apartments, slamming the door shut behind me, and I’ve barely taken three steps when a voice freezes me in place.

“Eli?”

She’s here. With a cast on her left wrist and a frown on her pretty face.

Billie.

She hovers on the sidewalk, her face pinched and pale. A light jacket covers her shoulders, but she still wraps her arms around her waist, squeezing like she needs the hug.

“Billie,” I rasp, and she sucks in a sharp breath, stumbling back half a step.

“You—you know?”

“Yeah.” The confirmation hits me square in the gut. “I know. I know that you came to work for your sister.” I prowl closer. “I know that you lied to me all day. And then you made her do your dirty work and turn me down so you didn’t have to.”

I spit the last few words, I’m so fucking mad, and she flinches, gaze dropping to the ground. She looks so defeated, so sad, and I want to wrap her in my arms and rock her gently.

I push that urge away. She doesn’t want that from me. So I’ll get my answers and go.

“Why?Why did you lie to me, Billie? At first, I get it—you didn’t want to get your sister in trouble. But after we kissed? After—after everything else? Why?”

“Because I’m a coward.” Despite her words, her voice rings out loud and clear. She scrubs at her cheeks and I realize they’re wet with her tears. Fuck. My hand twitches towards her, but I yank it back. Cross my arms over my chest so I won’t touch where I’m not wanted. The breeze tugs on her red hair, strands floating out of a long braid, and it looks darker in the evening light.

“You’re not a coward,” I scoff. “You waltzed into my mansion like you owned it.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I didn’t care then what you thought of me!” She throws her hands up, face etched with misery as she rants on. “Then when we—after everything that happened, I knew I should tell you who I really was. But the thought of your rejection, of-of seeing the exact face you’re pulling now—”

She breaks off, glaring at the sidewalk. Her throat bobs as she swallows. And when she speaks again, her voice is calmer. Measured.

“I’m sorry, Eli. You’re right to be angry. This whole day I’ve made nothing but bad decisions.” She sighs and looks up again, raising her hands. “Please don’t hold this against Coral. It was all my idea. All of it.”

My pulse thumps in my ears. I’m too busy fixating on what she said a moment ago to reply.

My rejection.She couldn’t face my rejection.

“Billie,” I say slowly. “Get in the car.”

“But—”

I yank the door open. “In.”

She scowls and stomps past me, ducking inside, but she can’t hide the spots of color on her cheeks. Billie likes to be bossed around.

I remember. I remember it all.

“Take us home,” I tell the driver, Billie darting a glance at me at those words. I ignore her and press the button to raise the partition. I wait until the divider is completely up and we’ve pulled away from the sidewalk before I turn to her.

She stares back at me, wide-eyed.

I frown. “Put your seat belt on.” I never want to see a cast on her again.

Billie huffs but obeys. I reach over and wind an escaped lock of red hair around my finger. She watches, spellbound, her chest shuddering with each breath as I stroke the pad of my thumb over the glossy strands.

“You still want me,” she whispers, almost to herself.

“Always.”

“Even though I lied to you?”

I smirk, but there’s an edge to my words. “Don’t do it again.”

She shakes her head before I’ve finished talking.

“I won’t. I swear. God, Eli…”

“Yes, Miss Walsh?”

She snorts and tips her head back, grinning up at the ceiling.

“You don’t have to call me that anymore.”

“Maybe I’ve got a taste for it.”

“I just didn’t want you saying another girl’s name. Ever again. Isn’t that crazy?”

It is, but I love it. I want Billie to be jealous over me. I want her snapping her teeth and staking out her territory. I’ll never give her a reason to doubt me, but damn, it’s fucking hot to see the angry flash in her green eyes.

“Insane.” I unclip my own seat belt, ignoring her grumbles, and slide closer, pushing her thighs wide. I’ve barely skimmed my fingertips over the seam of her shorts when the engine cuts out.

We’re home.

“Come on,” I tell her, voice gruff, and push the car door open. “Pool house. Now.”