“The girl gets her own room.”
“Yes, sir.”
The maid had just finished giving the girl a bath upstairs. He’d ordered her dressed in the clothes he’d bought a few weeks ago, anticipating her arrival. It was the most expensive silk nightgown you could buy for a child.
He waited in the big armchair in the living room. The fire was going. Even in the perfect climate of San Diego it sometimes got slightly chilly at night. He held the cut crystal glass with the double shot of bourbon he’d been saving for a special occasion. As soon as the girl was in her room, he would celebrate with the whiskey and a $500 cigar. All’s well that ends well, he thought.
His wife was passed out upstairs. He’d had the cook slip sleeping pills into her nightly wine. And even though he felt a little guilty, he’d asked the cook to put some liquid Benadryl in his daughter’s milk.
He needed them both out cold when the girl arrived.
She’d been crying and scared but not loud about it, which pleased him.
When she saw him walk in, the girl hastily wiped her tears away. He liked that. He smiled at her and kneeled down in front of her so they were eye level.
“I want to go home,” she said.
“You will,” he said in a gentle voice he hoped was soothing. “Your new family is very excited to meet you.”
“I don’t want them,” she said. Her tiny pink lips formed a pout.
“But they want you. They are very, very rich,” he said. “They will buy you anything your heart desires.” He gave another smile.
“They can’t buy what I want.” She folded her arms across her chest.
He admired her spunk. And her beauty. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen such a beautiful child. Well, other than his own Adele, that was. But this girl was the mirror opposite of Adele. This girl had silky black hair, huge black eyes, and flawless skin. But there was something else about her too. A spirited girl for sure.
While he didn’t know exactly why this girl was so important to the big boss, he could tell within seconds of meeting her that she was indeed special. She had presence.
“We will talk after your bath and dinner.”
He nodded to the maid who led the girl away. She was the downstairs maid, the older woman he brought with him from Mexico. She knew everything about him and his life. Even more than his wife. He trusted the old woman with his life. She would make sure the girl was taken care of until the delivery time.
Once the girl had eaten dinner and bathed, he ordered her brought to the living room.
She came in, her dark eyes flashing with something. Was it anger? Or fear?
He nodded toward the fireplace. “You may stand in front of it if you are cold. It feels quite delightful.”
She didn’t answer, simply shook her head slightly.
“I want to go home.” Her words were firm.
“It’s time for bed. We will talk again in the morning.” He sighed. He’d tried his best. She was a stubborn thing. But soon she wouldn’t be his problem anymore. He nodded to the maid, who took the girl’s hand and led her to the stairs.
He heard the girl’s protest from the other room and then heard a slap followed by the girl crying. Then it grew silent as the door closed.
A tiny part of him felt bad, but the girl would have to learn. She was not in charge.