Mr Hale

Three days in, I'd learned a few things about the Hale mansion.

One: it was impossible to keep clean. I scrubbed the kitchen counters and by the time I finished, the living room needed dusting again. It was like the house was actively working against me.

Two: Mira watched me all the time.

that Bitch has eyes everywhere. Sometimes I'd turn around and she'd be there, leaning in a doorway, saying nothing. Just watching. It made my skin crawl.

Three: I hadn't seen Mr. Hale once.

Part of me was relieved. it gave me less chance to fuck up. Less chance to look at him wrong and get fired.

Part of me was curious. What kind of man lived in a place like this? What kind of man was engaged to someone like Mira?

Not my business, I told myself. Keep your head down. Keep your mouth shut. You need this job.

It was late afternoon. I was in the hallway near the front entrance, polishing a table that didn't need polishing but Mira had said "polish it" so I was polishing it.

Then I heard the front door open.

I froze with the polishing cloth in hand, unsure of what to do.

"Oh welcome home!"

Mira's voice. it was so warm in a way I'd never heard it. Sweet. Soft. Almost human.

it felt almost wrong to hear her speak in that manner.

I heard footsteps. Then the sound of a kiss. Then another.

"I missed you," Mira said.

"Mm." A man's voice. Low. Quiet. Tired maybe.

I would have moved away, I hould have slipped away before they noticed me. But my feet wouldn't cooperate.

"How was the trip?" Mira asked.

"Long. Glad to be back."

That voice. There was something about it.

"You must be exhausted. I had the kitchen prepare—"

They were getting closer. Moving toward the hallway. Toward me.

I panicked. Dropped the polishing cloth. Bent to grab it. Knocked my head on the table.

"Fuck—" I whispered, grabbing my skull.

"Who's that?"

The man's voice. It was Closer now.

I straightened up. Turned around. Ready to apologize, to explain, to do whatever I needed to do to not get fired.

Mira stood there, her arm linked through his. Smiling but the smile never reaching her eyes

"Just the new cleaner," she said. "Temporary. She's harmless."

And then I looked at him.

Tall. Dark hair. Jaw that could cut glass. Dark eyes that weren't really looking at me, just glancing over me like I was furniture.

Like I was nothing.

Like he'd never seen me before in his life.

My brain short-circuited.

I knew that face.

I knew that jaw.

I knew those hands.

One year, three months, and fourteen days.

The club. The VIP room. The money on the floor. The way he'd looked at me that night...

I could tell from his voice.

The first and only orgasm of my entire life.

Mr. Orgasm.

He was right there.

Standing in front of me. Arm linked through his fiancée. Looking at me like I was a stranger.

He didn't remember.

He didn't fucking remember.

"Annie?" Mira's voice cut through. Sharp. "Did you hear me?"

I blinked. I hadn't realized I have been staring that long,my mouth was slightly ajar.

I looked insane.

"I—sorry—I—"

"What are you doing" Mira eyes narrowed.

I nodded. Grabbing my polishing brush as I backed away.

Mr. Hale, my Mr. Hale, the one from that night—was already walking past me like I didn't exist.

Like that night never happened.

Like I never happened.

I made it to the kitchen before my knees gave out.

Then I grabbed the counter so har my knuckles turned white.

He doesn't remember.

He has a fiancée.

He doesn't remember me.

But I remembered everything.

Every second. Every touch. Every sound he made.

And now I was supposed to pretend nothing happened.

Fuck.

The club had been dark. So dark. I never really saw him that night. Just felt him. Just heard him. Just came apart under him.

But now I'd seen him. Clear as day.

.and it didn't matter. What mattered was—

Fuck.

FUCK.

I pulled out my phone with my shaky hands and called Sasha.

She picked up on the second ring. "Annie? Girl, you alive? You've been gone three days—"

"I found him."

She was silent.

"What?"

"I found him. Mr. Orgasm. The one from the club. The one I've been looking for for over a year."

"Wait—what? Where? How? Are you okay?"

"He's Mr. Hale." I laughed giving out a weird unhinged snort.

I snorted again. "The guy whose house I'm cleaning. The owner. He's Mr. fucking Hale, Sasha."

"Shut up."

"I'm not joking."

"Shut up."

"I watched him walk in with his fiancée. The woman who interviewed me. The one who told me not to look at him wrong or I'm out."

"Annie..."

"And he didn't remember me, Sasha. He looked right through me. Like I was nothing. Like that night never happened."

My voice cracked on the last word. I hated it. Hated that he could still do this to me from across a room.

"Okay. Okay, breathe. Just breathe." Sasha's voice was steadier than I deserved. "You're safe? He didn't—he's not—"

"No. He's just... here. Living his life. Engaged. Rich. Perfect. And I'm scrubbing his floors."

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

More silence. I heard Sasha moving around, she was probably pacing. She paced whenever she was thinking. She was thinking now.

"Annie, you need to get out of there."

"What?"

"This is—you've been obsessed with this guy for a year. And now you're living in his house? That's not healthy. That's a rom-com meets horror movie."

"I can't leave."

"Why not?"

I swallowed then looked back at my tiny room. The brick wall outside the window....

my living conditions would be considered unfavourable in comparison to Mr Hale's house.

it was such a small room for a mansion.

"I get paid at the end of the week. If I survive. If I prove myself she might keep me permanently."

"And you want that?"

"I don't know. Maybe. No. Yes. I don't know."

Sasha sighed. Long and heavy sharp breaths.

"I transferred the rent," I said quickly. "Just now. Before I called. It should hit your account in a few hours."

"You—Annie, how? You don't have money."

"I got paid upfront. Sort of. Mira gave me an advance after I begged. Like, literally begged. On my knees. It was humiliating."

"Jesus."

"You don't have to worry about the eviction. It's paid. You're safe."

"We're safe. We're in this together, remember?"

I didn't say anything.

I didn't know how to tell her this.

"Annie?"

"There's something else."

"...What?"

"If Mira keeps me permanently... I have to stay here and live here. Full time."

More silence from Sasha.

"Sasha?"

"I heard you."

"I wouldn't be coming back. To the apartment. You'd need to find another flatmate."

"Oh."

Just that. Oh. Like I'd punched her in the stomach.

she was jealous and I knew it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't plan this. I didn't know it would be him. I just needed a job and now—"

"Now you're choosing him over me."

"No! I'm not—that's not—"

"Annie. You've been looking for this man for over a year. You talk about him in your sleep. You compare every guy you meet to him. And now you're telling me you'd live in his house, work for his fiancée, scrub his toilets, just to be near him?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

it sounded Bad the way Sahsa put it i hadn't thought of it like that.

truly

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not wrong."

"Fuck."

"I know."

"Fuck, Annie."

"I know."

Another long pause, then I heard Sasha light a cigarette. I heard her inhale then exhale.

"Do what you have to do," she said finally. Voice flat. "I'll figure out the flatmate thing."

"Sasha—"

"I love you. You know I love you. But I can't watch you destroy yourself over a guy who doesn't even remember your name."

"I love you too."

"Annie, listen to me. You need to find another job."

"What?"

"This job is fucking toxic. You know that, right? You have no days off. Four hours a week to yourself? Four hours? Who does that? Who lives like that?"

"It's not that bad—"

"Not that bad? Annie, you're a prisoner. A fancy prisoner with marble floors, but still a prisoner. You can't leave. Can't talk to anyone. Can't breathe wrong without that bitch Mira threatening to fire you."

"I know but—"

"I'll ask Uncle Joe. He knows people. Restaurant work, retail, something. It won't pay as much but at least you'll have your life back."

I closed my eyes. Leaned my head against the kitchen wall.

"Have you seen the pay here, Sasha?"

Silence.

"Sasha. Have you seen what they're paying me?"

"...How much?"

I told her.

More silence. Longer this time.

"That's..." She trailed off.

"Yeah."

"That's more than I make in three months."

"Yeah."

"Fuck."

"I know."

"Annie, that's—that's life-changing money. That's rent for a year money."

"I know."

"So you're staying."

It wasn't a question.

"I'm staying."

"Even though he doesn't remember you? Even though he's engaged? Even though you'll have to watch them together every single day?"

I thought about it. Him kissing Mira. Him touching her. Him looking at her the way he looked at me that night.

My stomach turned.

"Annie?"

"I can do it," I whispered. "I can be invisible. I can scrub floors and not look at him. I can pretend I'm nothing. For that money? I can do anything."

"You're lying."

"What?"

"You're lying to me and you're lying to yourself. You're not staying for the money. You're staying because he's there."

I opened my mouth to argue. Then closed it when I Couldn't come up with a valid argument.

"I—"

"You're hoping he'll remember. You're hoping that night wasn't nothing to him. You're hoping for some fairy tale shit that's gonna get you fired. Or worse."

I hung up on her...

I hadn't realized the enormosity of what I had gotten into