There was a single light glowing on the entrance table. Her mother’s doing, of course. It was little acts of love like these that strengthened Golden’s resolve to do everything in her power to get her mother out of this prison into which she’d unwittingly trapped herself but, as much as she knew it was the right thing to do, there was a major issue that first had to be resolved. There was hardly anything she could do until her mother realized that she’d married a man who meant her no good.
Golden was crossing the hallway on the way to her room when she heard a soft meow coming from the kitchen. Immediately the crease in her brow disappeared and a smile softened her lips. If there was one thing in the world guaranteed to lift her spirits it was a quick cuddle with Sir Winston Churchill. She headed off in search of her beloved cat.
She found him by the back door, his head down as he lapped the remaining drops of milk from his saucer. “Hey there, my love. How are you?” Kneeling beside him, she reached out to stroke his snow-white back. “How was your day?”
The fluffy Persian lifted his head and gave her a milk-mustache smile – at least it looked like a smile to Golden – then he put out a pink tongue to lick the remnants of milk from his mouth. Only then did he come to her, rubbing his head against her leg until she sat back on her heels and took him onto her lap. When she stroked his head and tickled him behind the ear she was rewarded with the gentle vibration of his deep-throated purrs.
“You’re my best friend. You know that, don’t you?” Her voice was a soft whisper, almost as if she were sharing a very special secret with her one true friend. And, like she’d said, he was just that – her best and only friend, the only one who would ever hear her fears or complaints or triumphs.
“Where were you?”
Golden jumped. She turned to see her mother, her hair full of rollers, standing in the doorway blinking sleepily at her.
“Mother, I didn’t wake you, did I?” She pushed Sir Winston off her lap and stood up. “I tried to be quiet.”
“No, you didn’t wake me. When I got up to go to the loo I peeked out and saw your car was here. That’s how I knew you were home.” She blinked then narrowed her eyes as she gave Golden a closer look. “Why do you look like that? You never wear make-up.” Then her frown deepened. “Where were you, Golden?”
“I...” Golden paused, wondering how much she could share. Her mother loved her, she knew, but the reality was, she was so concerned about pleasing her husband that she put his needs before anyone else’s. And she didn’t know how to keep secrets from him either. “I was just...somewhere.” It sounded lame but for the life of her she couldn’t come up with anything better. She’d never been one to lie so when it came to making up stories she was hopeless.
She gave a shrug and turned to go. “Well, it’s late. Time to get my beauty sleep. Goodnight, Mother.”
She didn’t get far. Eugenia reached out and caught her by the arm. “Golden, why is your face made up like that? Were you out on the town...with men?” The last two words came out in a hiss. “You know your father would not approve.”
“He’s not my father.” Golden almost dragged her arm out of her mother’s grasp but she didn’t. No matter how angry she was she would not show disrespect. But she would not perpetuate the lie her mother was living. “He’s not my father,” she said again. “He’s your husband. I do not answer to Dunstan Manchester.”
“As long as you’re under his roof, you have to.”
“This is not his roof,” Golden said through gritted teeth and this time she did pull her arm away, albeit gently. “This is the house my father bought when he brought us here from Atlanta. This is the house he left for you. For us.”
“I know all that, honey, but I have another husband now-”
“A husband who wants to control everything,” Golden bit back. “Even me.”
On her mother’s face was a look of pleading that pulled at Golden’s heart strings and made her say no more. How could she hurt her mother even if she was right?
“I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh then she reached out to fix one of the rollers that threatened to slide out of her mother’s hair. “I’ll try to live by his rules.” It pained her to say the words but she knew it was what her mother wanted to hear.
Eugenia sighed and gave her a smile. “Thank you, dear. You know we only want what’s best for you. Now get along to bed. It’s late.”
Golden nodded, knowing full well that her mother might want what was best for her but her stepfather certainly did not. Still, she kept mum and headed down the hallway then climbed the stairs to her room. Tomorrow she would have to find other means of earning some wages but right now all she wanted to do was forget about her disastrous night, climb into bed and lose herself in the arms of Morpheus.
***
“Found anything so far?” Reed glanced at his watch then began to throw the documents and folders into his briefcase. His cell phone, he shoved into his pocket.
“Not yet, Mr. Davidoff.” Sharon Crow gave him an apologetic smile. “I spoke to Ms. Townsend again this morning and she said so far there are still eight girls who haven’t picked up their checks. She thinks they’ll be all gone in the next couple of days. She’ll keep her eyes open for a redhead fitting the description you gave.”
“Not a redhead. A blonde. A girl with reddish-blonde hair.”
“Oh, a strawberry blonde. Why didn’t you say so?” Sharon shook her head and just stopped short of rolling her eyes. “We’ll find her for you. I promise.”
After his executive assistant had walked out of his office Reed stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door. Was he being a bloody fool to pursue a girl who was of so little significance in the normal scheme of things? The expression on his assistant’s face said he was. They were all probably wondering why he was making such a big deal about a mere temp, one who could be replaced by hundreds of others like her.