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"Do you want to help go through the decoration boxes in the garage?" June asked with a sly smile.
"What can I do in here?"
"As soon as they find it, you can put the garland up on the bannister, string it with lights and hook up the extension cords."
"Fine," she said, heading for the coffeepot.
When Maddie was a baby, Jock spent time with her more often at June's house than anywhere. When he wanted to take her to his parents' house, he talked to June rather than Riley because June was more accommodating. When Maddie was in grade school, he pushed his presence more forcefully, but still cautiously. He insisted on being notified of school activities, from parent-teacher conferences to carnivals. He couldn't make them all, but he wanted to at least be told. "I'd rather not ask the teacher, Riley." Riley most often asked her mother to let Jock know.
Then there was that time when Maddie was ten that Jock suggested to Riley that they revisit the idea of joining forces. "I think we should get together, just you and me, maybe leading up to a date," he said. "Let's get to know each other again, see if we can remember what it was that brought us together in the first place."
"You've completely lost your mind, right?" she said.
"Not at all. I know you don't like it but I consider you and Maddie my family. Since there's no getting around it, we could explore it."
She was appalled. "I wouldn't even consider it," she said. "And why would you? You've dated a lot since Maddie was born. I don't consider you my family! Get someone else to take a chance on you."
"I hardly ever date," he said. "You really don't know anything about me."
"I think I probably know enough," she said. "Aren't you the guy who talked me out of my clothes and then dumped me?"
"You have a real blind spot when it comes to me, don't you, Riley? I apologized a hundred times for being a stupid eighteen-year-old when that happened but I really cared about you. I just got scared off. Mostly by you!"
"And what makes you think I'd be willing to take that kind of risk again?"
"Maybe because I'm not eighteen anymore and we have a daughter together?"
"Even more reason I should be cautious!"
And of course their conversation had deteriorated from there. They often did. She'd push his b.u.t.tons, she'd get p.i.s.sed off all over again and before they knew it they were sniping at each other.
So Jock married someone else, a young woman with two sons. The ink was barely dry on the marriage license when he was back on his own and the woman was back with her ex. And Riley felt vindicated-Jock was not capable of a committed relations.h.i.+p.
Starting in junior high, Jock began to communicate directly with Maddie and Riley would run into him at everything from car washes to softball games. And now she never knew when she'd run into him at her mother's house.
On Sat.u.r.day Riley had worked for a couple of hours and Maddie had girlfriends over for the night, so she was trapped at home. On Sunday afternoon Maddie and June were going through the recipes and planning their Christmas baking. Riley was there by four o'clock to share a family dinner of Thanksgiving leftovers with them. All but Adam, who had begged off because he was busy. He'd told his mother he was running errands and getting his schoolwork done since he'd been out with a friend Sat.u.r.day night. "Oh?" Riley had asked. "What friend?"
"He said I don't know her," June said.
It was hardly noteworthy. Adam was known to date, though circ.u.mspectly. As a rule, he didn't introduce a woman he was dating to the rest of the family until it had been weeks or months, proving they stood the test of time.
Riley met Monday with some excitement, some trepidation. Emma was starting work. She'd begin her training with Makenna Rice at 7:00 a.m. and Riley thought Makenna might scare the life out of Emma. Riley had made a secret pledge-no arguing or fighting. It was one thing to clear the air upon their first meeting-they had been alone in the office. But from now on they were only employer and employee and they'd be professional and courteous or Emma would have to go. "It's my company," Riley kept reminding herself.
Riley was at the office at six-thirty and, unsurprisingly, Makenna had beat her there. She already had her training manuals and supplies scattered around the boardroom.
"Well, good morning," Riley said. "Getting an early start, I see."
"I don't want us to be late for our first job. That would set a bad example."
Riley laughed. "Can I get you a coffee?"
"I'm all set, thanks. I didn't start the pot in the kitchen, knowing you'd be bringing your Starbucks. I guess I'd better put on the coffee, huh? Ms. Shay might need a cup."
"I'll do it while you set up here," Riley said.
Makenna was an interesting character, one of Riley's first employees. She was tiny but strong. She had spiked orange hair and dark brows, plenty of piercings on her ears and a couple of eyebrow piercings, a few colorful tattoos that had expanded over the years. The only one that showed while she wore her work uniform was a serpent that wiggled up the back of her neck. She reminded Riley of a biker chick but she was a straight arrow. She was a single mom like so many of Riley's employees-one fourteen-year-old son who towered above her already. And she was a strict mom. As far as Riley knew, Curtis didn't give her any trouble. h.e.l.l, Riley was afraid to give her trouble.
All the doors between the offices and conference room were standing open, the front door unlocked, the coffee brewing, and at six-fifty Emma arrived, ten minutes early. Good. She carried a tote that presumably had her drinks and lunch for the day, her uniform was new and pristine and she looked far too good to be cleaning houses. But that was the look Riley wanted her employees to have because that was how her clients wanted the hired help to look.
"Good morning," Riley said.
"Good morning," Emma replied.
She blushed just slightly. It was almost imperceptible, but she glanced briefly away.
Was that about the words they'd exchanged when Emma was interviewed and hired, or something else? Did Adam really have errands? Errands my a.s.s, Riley thought.
"How was your weekend?" Riley asked.
"Very nice, thanks. I had the best Thanksgiving. The lady I'm renting from and her girlfriends, all widows a bit beyond a certain age, had dinner and included me-it was fantastic."
"Good. What about Rosemary?"
"Didn't you know? Rosemary and her third husband, Vince, moved to Palm Springs years ago. I haven't heard a word from Lauren or Anna. I'm not even sure if they're still around here. With any luck, Rosemary and I are finished. I haven't heard from her since...since Richard's death."
Riley made a face. "With any luck," Riley muttered under her breath. She led Emma to the conference room. "Makenna is ready for you. Makenna, this is Emma Shay."
Emma put out her hand. "Pleased to meet you. And thank you. I'll try to be your star pupil."
"They all say that. Get yourself a cup of coffee if you like. We're going through the handbook first. Coffee's in the kitchen."
Emma reached into her bag. "I brought my coffee," she said, pulling out a large thermal cup.
"Save it for later. Get office coffee while you can. Meet me in here."
"Thanks," Emma said, heading for the kitchen.
Riley went to her desk. No, surely not, Riley thought. Surely Adam wasn't spending more than a little time with Emma. He wouldn't get romantically involved with her, would he? Weren't they all conflicted enough without that?
I will fire her, Riley thought.
Emma eyed the handbook-a large spiral notebook two and a half inches thick.
"We're going to start with some important company rules and guidelines. I have a notebook like this for you to borrow. You can make copies, take notes, memorize, whatever works best for you, and you can have it for two weeks. There is always a book in the office. Nick Cabrini, director of operations, has this book on his computer and phone. I have one at all times and you can stop by here or call any of us with questions. Let me put that more clearly-if you have a question, please check the book to make sure you're acting within company policy before doing anything."
Emma frowned. "Like?"
"I'm going to tell you." Makenna flipped open the book. "Nick or Riley give the estimates and unless there are special conditions, the client contracts for our basic house or office cleaning services, which are very thorough. We'll go over the basic in a few minutes. Extra duties must be approved by Nick and he will make a charge, so please don't quote prices to the client. Extras include things like windows, refrigerator/freezer cleaning, garage cleaning, patio and outdoor furniture cleaning, cupboard clearing, laundry, special-event cleanup-like receptions, holiday entertaining, et cetera. We don't provide child care or care of the elderly or infirm. We're not plumbers-we don't unplug toilets. If they can't figure it out, we have subcontractors-plumbers, electricians, pool service, chimney sweeps, landscapers and gardeners and so on. There's a very long list, right here." She tapped a page in the book. "It's routine for our clients to ask for more without considering the time and expense, so we have a standard. We never use the client's cleaning supplies-only ours are approved. They've been known to come up with weird concoctions that stain, damage or create noxious fumes. They can damage their own possessions. Likewise, you will learn about materials and cleaning agents and will not take the homeowner's cleaning advice-for your own protection. When the lady of the house says, 'Just use a little bleach on this Oriental rug,' you will explain that doesn't match your instructions and offer the services of our in-house expert, Nick, who will be happy to consult before we have to buy her a new rug. And if you think clients haven't tried to dupe the poor, stupid cleaning lady into ruining something so it can be replaced for free, you're unbearably naive. For breakage, which is going to happen, we have insurance with a high deductible. The company will cover each team member for the first fifty dollars-that's the odd winegla.s.s, ashtray, soap dish or plate.
"We use only the front powder room if the need for a bathroom arises and if there is no powder room, we'll designate an appropriate restroom in the home. We don't eat in the client's house but a drink of bottled water-our own-is appropriate. We don't accept new or used gifts or clothing. Under any circ.u.mstances. If they want to tip you in cash, it's acceptable. Individual cleaning teams cannot offer discounts or additional work without being approved. We don't develop personal relations.h.i.+ps with our clients-be cheerful, helpful and courteous. If someone wants to discuss problems, if they're not cleaning problems, explain that you're not at liberty to offer advice or act as a confidante. We have a policy that individual employees not make arrangements with clients to work on the side. And there is a non-compete agreement that you will be asked to sign that states you will not work as an independent house cleaner or maid until you have been separated from Kerrigan's Services for six months.
"Our clients have an expectation of privacy and confidentiality. We understand that it is unrealistic to suggest cleaners never chat among themselves, but we do have an ironclad rule that no employee of this company discuss clients' personal matters outside of the company. It goes without saying-if you're accused of stealing, you will be investigated by the police. It has happened and I am proud to report, it has rarely been true. So if you have any legal issues, wants or warrants that will be complicated by a law enforcement intervention, best to say so now." She gave Emma a chance to say so. After a moment's silence Makenna cleared her throat and went on. "And if you run into burdensome issues you can't quite manage, please bring them to me, Nick or Riley. Believe me, we've seen it all."
Emma frowned. What kind of confidential things might she witness? "I'm almost afraid to ask..."
"Inside of two months, you won't have to ask, but I'll save you some time. Obviously, you're not going to be picking through drawers or closets, reading correspondence, diaries, or studying papers on desks. We don't look at personal papers or property, we dust it.
"But you're going to see things. Mrs. X, the cheapest client we have, one who has never tipped or given a holiday bonus, has a checkbook balance of one-point-five-million and a monthly credit card bill over twenty-five thousand dollars. She leaves these papers in plain sight, very hard to miss. Mr. and Mrs. Y carelessly leave out objects of intimate pleasure." To Emma's expression of consternation, Makenna said, "s.e.x toys, Emma."
"Ew," Emma said.
"Gloves," Makenna said. "And Mr. Z is knocking the s.h.i.+t out of Mrs. Z. She thinks no one knows."
"Oh, my G.o.d! And you don't do anything?"
Makenna glanced down at the pages of the employee manual. "Mrs. Z said someone made an anonymous call to the police department and they were visited by someone from the domestic violence unit, but I'm sure I wouldn't know anything about that."
"So-we don't get involved, even if someone's health and safety is at risk?"
"That would be one of those issues you're going to want to take to Nick and Riley. Very important that you do so, Emma. If a member of the household we service is at risk, we're at risk. If you have reason to believe someone is breaking the law, it's important you tell your supervisor. There are examples of difficult situations in this manual. The book was compiled by Riley over years. When a new situation arises it is not only added to the handbook, a confidential memo is also sent to team leaders so they can advise their crews." Makenna peered at Emma. "Are you going to be able to ignore the obvious? Look the other way?"
Emma almost laughed. "Oh, you have no idea," she said. "It's a skill of mine."
Makenna cleared her throat. "Now, let's go over some important issues-cleaning supplies, techniques, basic chemistry so you don't mix bleach and toilet bowl cleaner and end up a 911 call..."
The lecture was intense and fast-paced. Makenna put all of her supplies out on the table with corresponding color photos and explained how each cleaning implement was to be used and which cleaning chemicals were provided.
"I don't expect you to remember all of this, Emma. You're going to be trained on the job this week-I'll be watching you and helping you. To that end, I'm taking you to some of our more challenging homes. You'll have to learn to do it well, fast, not be distracted by your chatty home owner, cooperate with your team and employ all the smart moves-safety first. Don't lift anything over forty pounds, use your legs, not your back. We have knee pads in the van if you want them, as well as smocks and ap.r.o.ns, and do protect your uniform as much as possible. You're bound to get dirty, but avoid bleach marks or grease stains if you can." Then the little pixie smiled and said, "Ready?"
"Oh, G.o.d," Emma said.
"Good! Help me put this stuff away."
And with that they gathered up all of Makenna's training aides and headed out of the office, getting in the van. Two other team members-Shawna and Dellie, short for Delilah-were already there and ready to roll. Shawna held a clipboard.
"Okay, first house I have linens and dusting, Dellie has the kitchen and hardwood floors, the newbie Emma is pa.s.sing the vacuum-do not forget the stairs! Do not slam the vacuum into walls or furniture! And it is with vengeful pleasure I give the bathrooms to Makenna."
"You don't scare me," Makenna said.
"You scare me," Emma said.
"Make nice tracks with that machine, Emma," Shawna said. "The clients like the tracks. The little things keep us popular."
"Is dusting the primo job?" Emma asked.
They all laughed. "It's the least difficult," Makenna said. "But there are blinds, high shelves, ceiling fans, plants, light fixtures, wooden furniture, books-it's endless. It's hard to be fast and keep breakage down. It takes practice. The vacuum is hard but safe."
"And the bathrooms are the worst job?"
"Sometimes, depending on the client," Shawna said. "Some of them aren't, how should we say it...?"
"Clean," Makenna supplied.
"Kitchens are hard. You never know what's happened in the kitchen this week. It could've been a big dinner out or a takeout week or there could have been a lot of cooking. Greasy, splattering, nasty cooking. People with regular cleaning service get a little lazy about a thorough cleaning after cooking. They never oil their cabinets or wash the floors. I hate cleaning kitchens," Shawna said.
Then it seemed like in minutes they were there.
"Let's do it," Makenna said. And they hit the ground running.
Emma was home in her little house at six. She walked in and collapsed on the sofa. It wasn't until she was in that position that she realized she still wore her knee pads-the last house of the day, she got the bathrooms. Six of them. Every one had been thoroughly used. If possible, the sinks were the worst she'd ever seen. The family must have been the hairiest family on the planet. They were obviously descended from the Yeti. The toilets... She couldn't think about them.
When she got some energy, she would call Adam. He had texted sometime after three that he couldn't wait to hear about her day. There hadn't been a moment yet. She went from the cleaning company's van directly to her car and straight home. Her carry pouch was empty of drinks and snacks, she was famished and she was sure there wasn't anything left in the house from her weekend with the bottomless pit, Adam. He'd bought plenty of food to sustain them during their "honeymoon" and he'd eaten all of it.
There was a knock at her door. It was unrealistic to expect it was a huge takeout order. Possibly it was Penny. She lifted her head. "Please be the pizza delivery boy," she called out weakly.
"How was your day, dear?" Adam. He stood over her, smiling.
"Oh. G.o.d." She struggled to sit up. He was holding bags. "Oh, you brought sustenance."
"Knee pads," he said, grinning like a fool. "Nice touch."
"What's in the bags?" she said, frowning at his attempt at humor.
"Food. Stuffed salmon, rice, Italian beans, bagels and m.u.f.fins for morning, milk for your coffee, a couple of sandwiches for you to take to work tomorrow."
"Oh, you are a perfect man."
"You're hungry?"
"Starving. But these hands cannot go near food. My hands have been places..."
"Never mind," he said. He put his parcels on the table and went to sit on the chair facing her. "I've worked for Riley. A hundred and twenty teenagers every day is like a paid vacation." He touched the hair at her temple. "I also brought wine."
"Can you uncork it and just pour it straight down my throat?"
"Tougher than Burger h.e.l.l?"
"She was right, I was worked hard."
"She used to say, 'People have dirty lives and we clean them up.' I don't have to stay for dinner. I won't be offended."
"Oh, stay," she said. "Can I take a shower first?"
He nodded. "I'm not staying late tonight. I promise."