Chapter 1
Chapter 1:
They say you never forget the first time you see a dead body. I would like to add to that: you never forget when you stare someone in the eyes and can’t tell if they’re alive or not.
First day on the job. I knew what to expect. At least, I had been told what to expect in vague terms. A wealthy woman is in a vegetative state and the family wants her medical care to be done privately. No other details were given outside of pay, which was larger than any other job I have seen. So I accepted without much thought.
Driving to their house was cinematic. Two large rows of bushes frame the drive away. You seem lost, like a maze, even though there’s only one road. Then, right before you feel overwhelmed, there is a turn in the road. Bushes fade away to reveal the house. It’s mansard style, something I learned from the one architecture class I took in college. Largely gray, with white trim, dilapidated by years of weather. Whoever these people were, they didn’t care to spend their money on sprucing up their paint.
I park at an angle in front of the door. There is no driveway. I use the other car, a white SUV, as my marker of where to park.
Before I can get out of my car the door to the house is open. But I can’t see inside.
His voice reaches me before I see him. “Do you want a hand with those?”
I am standing by my trunk, pulling out a small bag of personal items. He is standing in the doorway, draped by shadows. Tall, skin that paled from staying up late while inside, and green eyes. He wears a loose fitting gray t-shirt and green cloth shorts that hang halfway down his thigh.
“Oh, uh, no- I am good,” I answer. Is that rude of me? Would his boss be upset if he doesn’t help me? “It’s just this small bag. I didn’t bring much here.” I add, hoping it will help with his boss.
My boss, I should correct. Whoever it may be- me and this guy are working for the same rich family.
He walks towards me. We meet halfway between my car and the door. “Hi there. I am Patrick.” He starts to offer his hand, realizes mine are full, and nods his head as he awkwardly shoves his hand into a pocket. Being this close I can see the muscles on his arms. Whatever work he does here, it keeps him in shape.
“Hello. My name is Alexa.”
“Yeah, I know.”
My face twitches- a gut reaction. I’m not used to being received like that. Though it’s not weird for him to know me. I am sure everyone living and working in this house is expecting me.
“Sorry if that weirds you out,” he says. He adds a chuckle. “We have been waiting for you. But I guess you don’t know anyone’s name yet. It must be weird to meet a stranger who already knows who you are.”
“Yeah,” I say with a smile, trying to hide my initial unease. “Weird is a good way to put it.” We are almost to the front door. “But not as weird as not even knowing the name of who I am working for.” If I want to ask I better ask it not, before we get inside where I am sure they are listening. “Speaking of employers, anything about them I should know about? Anything weird”
Now it’s time for Patrick’s face to twitch into confusion. “Nothing that I am aware of. But everyone is weird to someone. I’m sure you may find something if you go looking for it.”
He steps inside the house. I follow. Without looking back he directs me to go right as he vanishes to the left. Worry nags at my stomach. Did my question upset him? Was he close to the boss?
The inside of the house matches the outside. Light gray and baby blue fill the walls. All of the furniture is light colored wood. Nothing that I would recognize. My architecture class never went into those details. I assume it would be covered in the 202 class.
The kitchen is the same: blue walls and speckled gray countertops. If I were teleported into this house I would guess I was in a beach house on some resort island- not the boonies of Washington.
On the aisle is a stack of papers, organized perfectly in the center. Am I snoopy if I look? The guy did direct me here.
I look. It is a medical non-disclosure agreement, written in big bold letters. Beneath it is a wall of text that I try to decipher.
“Hello there,” comes from behind me.
I jumped at the surprise. Patrick walks into the kitchen, to the other side of the aisle. His shirt has changed to a black polo. He sticks his hand out. “Sorry about earlier. I always like to shake someone’s hand before doing a business deal with them. Call me oldfashion, I guess. Some people may say it’s a weird thing about me.” He shrugs. A large goofy smile stretches across his face.”
I take his hand, confused. “Patrick…”
”Yep, Patrick Paoloni. Soon to be your employer, hopefully.”
My hand drops.
“Your wife is Hailey Adams,” I say.
“You know your celebrity trivia,” he pulls out a pen.
”You want to hire me?” He nods. “She wants to hire me?”
His smile fades. “That is hard to tell these days.” He hands me the pen. “I really can’t give any more information until you sign this?” The NDA slides towards me.
Dazed, I scrawl my signature on the document.
He spins it around, inspects with his eyes, and nods. “Well that is great Alexa, really great.” We lock eyes. “Let’s discuss what the job entails.”
