An insistent buzzing woke me. I kept my head buried in my pillow and fumbled around on the nightstand trying to find the off switch for my phone. I didn’t have to be up yet, and I still felt groggy and disappointed from the night before.
My phone slipped out of my fingers and clattered to the floor, still buzzing like an angry hornet. I thought about leaving it, but someone started pounding on my door. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep through the phone and the knocking on my door.
“It’s open,” I yelled, rolling onto my back and then throwing my feet off the bed. This was not the way I wanted to be woken up.
“You need to get up. Now,” Rachel commanded as she barged into my room. I was about to complain, but the stormy look on her face kept the words inside. She stalked over to my closet and began tossing clothing onto my bed.
“What’s going on?” I stood up and stifled a yawn before catching a satin dress shirt with my head.
“The Saunders!” She said it like it was an earthquake or an alien invasion. The finality and doom in her voice, combined with her sudden nervousness, made me go cold. “You need to get up and get dressed right now.”
I grabbed the suit she thrust at me and grabbed at the shirt that had fallen around my shoulders and scampered into the bathroom. I hurried through my morning routine, dressing quickly in the expensive dress suit. Rachel had a pair of stylish heels ready for me when I emerged. They were surprisingly comfortable and accented the outfit nicely. I glanced at myself in the full length mirror as Rachel pushed me out the door. Rachel had done a fantastic job shopping for me. I was amazed at how properly fitted clothes instead of baggy sweats actually made me look like a real woman instead of a lumpy sack of potatoes.
I hurried down the hallway after Rachel, trying desperately not to trip in my heels. Despite being fairly low and comfortable, I still felt wobbly on them. Especially after my incident with heels last night, I wasn’t keen on any shoe that wasn’t a sneaker.
Rachel stopped before the heavy wooden door leading into the main dining room. I rarely went into the dining room, choosing to eat at the more comfortable kitchen table or on the couch in the living room. Rachel turned and straightened my collar, her usually unreadable face pale.
“Address them as ‘Ma’am and Sir’. Do not contradict either of them, but especially not Mr. Saunders.” The way she said Mr. Saunders made it clear she meant Jack’s father. “Be more polite to them than anyone you have ever met in your life. Smile and be pleasant. For the love of God don’t tell them you are sleeping with Jack or have ever slept with Jack or even have ever thought of sleeping with him.”
I nodded, still confused as to what was going on. “Right, Sir and Ma’am. Be polite.”
“Mrs. Saunders is actually the driving force behind the two of them, but it is Mr. Saunders that wields the power in public. Pretend to ask him if you have a question, but it is Mrs. Saunders that you need to suck up to. Got it? Be brave. I’m not even supposed to be here right now, but I couldn’t send you into the lion’s den without a warning.” Rachel smoothed the fabric on my shoulders, and checked my collar one last time before flashing a nervous grin and moving out of the way for me to open the door to the dining room.
I opened the heavy wooden door, unsure of what to expect.
Inside, an attractive elderly couple was sitting across from one another, calmly sipping coffee and eating danish and scrambled eggs. It would have been a normal breakfast scene, if it weren’t for the ridiculously expensive clothing, the mahogany table with fine china, and the engraved silverware.
“Good morning, dear,” Mrs. Saunders greeted me, setting her coffee cup down delicately on the table. She had short blonde hair swept up into an elegant style and dark brown eyes. Her features were petite, but age had put enough weight on her to make her solid. She still had high cheekbones and a regal manner that made me want to curtsey.
“Good morning. It is a pleasure to meet you both,” I said. I was glad my voice didn’t quaver despite my nerves.
“So you’re the one distracting my son and making him the center of the tabloid gossip,” Mr. Saunders said, gesturing to the stack of tabloids and newspapers on the table. The Saunders’ name blared out across several headlines, the picture of him carrying me like a child, wrath and concern battling his face. I swallowed hard and nodded.
“Come and have some breakfast, Emma. We have some things to discuss,” Mrs. Saunders motioned to an empty chair. I managed to sit down fairly gracefully. I carefully poured a cup of coffee from the carafe on a silver platter. I wished I had something to make it stronger; it felt like I was going to need it.