New life, new life, new life.
She had to confront her sisters even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. She needed a life of her own, a life that didn’t involve walking on eggshells. And Brock was right; would her father really have wanted her to live this way in order to keep the family together? She’d tried. But now, she needed to create a life for herself.
And she hoped to God that Brock would find a way to create one for himself—with her in it.
She’d already called Brock’s crazy grandfather and confessed she’d left early, in hopes he would still pay her for the time she did clean. When he asked about her ankle injury she assured him that she only needed half-pay.
He started to argue but she held firm. She wanted to be fair. She hadn’t done all the work alone.
Reluctantly, he told her he’d have a messenger drop off her check later that evening.
At least that worked out in her favor.
She’d expected Brock to follow her.
To call her.
To say something.
Anything.
But he didn’t chase after her and confess his feelings, and there were no texts from the prince stating that he’d stormed the castle and fixed the shattered happy ending in their future.
Just. Nothing.
She straightened her shoulders and took a deep, long breath, before grabbing the handle to the door of her house.
Locked.
Since when did her sisters lock the house?
Confused, she grabbed her keys and shoved the right one into the keyhole, only to have it only go in halfway.
The doorknob looked the same.
Had they seriously changed the locks to piss her off?
Were they that immature?
She knocked as loudly as she could, then rang the doorbell repeatedly.
After a few minutes, during which she seriously considered trying to break the door down, it flew open, revealing a crazed-looking Essence.
“Jane,” she spat. “What are you doing here?”
Jane tried to shove the door open. She was exhausted and in no mood to argue. “I live here. Remember?”
“It’s been almost three weeks,” Essence said in that same irritating tone. “For all we knew you could have been dead. You never took our calls, remember?”
Jane remembered. It had been the most peaceful three weeks she’d had in years!
“I was working,” Jane finally answered. “I got hired to do a job and now I’m home.”
“Oh, we know.” Essence’s smile was cruel.
“I don’t understand.” Jane gulped as dread washed over her. What had her sisters done now? Finally Essence moved aside enough for Jane to enter.
And what she saw nearly made her collapse in a heap.
The news was on.
The cameras were pointed toward the ranch.
And images of Jane and Brock, kissing, were plastered all over the screen.
She covered her mouth with her hands as tears filled her eyes. When she grabbed the remote and changed channels, it just grew worse. Every news station was reporting about the maid who’d seduced the bachelor weeks before the auction.
But the worst part was yet to come.
Because when the camera went back to the reporter, the reporter was standing in front of her house.
With both of her sisters.
“She turned off her phone. We had no idea she was this…conniving. I mean the auction is days away! She’s supposed to be helping out and putting food on the table, and”—Essence wiped away a few fake tears—“she hasn’t spoken to us in days. We’re so worried!”
The reporter nodded her head and turned toward the camera. “It looks like the bachelor has some explaining to do. After all, he’s set to be bid on this weekend, and rumors have been rampant about an impending marriage to one of the lucky ladies. Sources say that he’s just returned to the city and refuses to talk to any media outlet, but we did get a statement from Bentley Wellington in the form of, “Leave our brother the bleep alone.” The TV bleeped out the curse word.
Oh Bentley.
The media was losing their minds over the story.
With shaking hands she turned off the TV. Esmeralda had come into the room and both she and Essence started yelling at Jane at the exact same time.
But it wasn’t their yelling that caused tears to slip down her cheeks.
Or even the fact that the world probably assumed the worst of her.
It was a simple truth that Brock would have to go through with the auction, and even though it killed her, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. There was no way his family could survive this scandal and keep Wellington, Inc. under their control—under Brock’s control. Wellington. Inc. and his family were everything to Brock—which in turn meant they were everything to Jane, too.
“We’re going out.” Essence announced even while she was still shouting. “Oh, and the dishes probably need to be done. Good to have you home, sister. Hope it was worth it.”
They left in a flurry of perfume and mean-spirited laughter.
Jane stayed on the couch.
And cried.
*