Even the chores they partake in-polishing silverware and folding linens from the wash-are white-glove. Poppet and I settle into our room and gaze out the small window that overlooks the backyard and guesthouses. The Tulips never introduce themselves. Ignoring us is their unique form of showing us we don't belong. I'll take it over what the Carnations and Daisies dished out.
We've only just begun to ask the Tulips' Point Girl, a mousy brunette with rosy cheeks, what we can do to help, when Cain appears at the top of the stairs. He glances down the hallway at Madam Karina's door and then strides toward me.
"Cain, carry these down to the kitchen, won't you, please?" The Point Girl presents an armful of neatly folded table linens. There's a yellow sash tied around her waist that matches the tulip she wears. She paid handsomely for it with her earnings, and that tells me what I need to know.
She isn't going anywhere.
She's in no rush to move up, because she's a lifer.
Cain takes the linens and then turns to me. "Can you be ready in ten minutes?"
At first I don't understand the question, but then a smile quirks the corner of his mouth, and I feel myself jumping on my tiptoes. "I can be ready now!"
Poppet walks over. "Where you two off to?"
I turn to Poppet, excitement coursing through my veins. "I'm going into town. You should come."
She eyes the Tulips. "Nah. I want to get to know our new place. Plus, I'm saving my pennies for a dress that'll stop your heart."
Poppet sidles over to the Point Girl and speaks to her in hushed tones as Cain moves closer.
"It can only be you," he says. "Madam Karina said as much."
I roll my eyes, but I can't stop smiling. "You're the one taking me? Not Eric?"
"Yeah, but don't you want to know how much it will cost?"
I wince, afraid he's going to spoil my fun. "Lay it on me."
He curls four fingers toward his thumb, making a zero.
"Nothing?" I yell. The girls glance over, and I lower my voice. "I get to go for free?"
He cocks his chin toward Madam Karina's room. "Not if she changes her mind. Let's get out of here."
I bound down the stairs, nearly taking a tumble twice. Cain keeps pace with his daddy longlegs. I surge outside and clap twice when I see the black sedan we traveled in from Detroit. The one with leather seats, slick with polish, and wheels so mean they bring tears to my eyes.
"I called the guy who lends us cars. He brought her over this morning."
I jump in the front seat and drum my hands on the console. "Start her up, Jeeves."
Cain slides into the driver's seat and tosses a bag into the back. He starts the engine and punches the accelerator a couple of times while in park to really get me squealing. He's about to throw the thing in drive when I grab his arm.
"Wait, why is the madam letting me go for free? And why is she letting you take me instead of Eric?"
Cain leans back. "She said she still felt bad about the other night. Said you should go and enjoy yourself, but to be back by dinner. Oh, and she thought it was fine that I took you. I think she's pissed at Eric right now for whatever reason."
I buckle my seat belt, because who am I to question good fortune?
"One more thing," Cain says. "She said the favor you asked for … "
"Yeah?"
"She said to consider it ongoing."
I grin and clap my hands together again. When I spot the confused look on his face, I explain that it means I can become a Lily sooner if I play my cards right.
Cain's eyes fall on the east guesthouse. "You really want to move out there?"
The smile on my face falters as I follow his gaze. "I have to do what I have to do."
"You say that because you don't know what goes on there."
I look away from him. "I know enough."
I know everything, Wilson mutters.
Cain sits quietly for a moment before lightly punching my shoulder. "Hey, let's focus on the day."
"Damn straight."
He pulls us out onto the dirt road leading away from the white farmhouse with the blue door and green shutters. Then he sends us rocketing forward, dirt spitting from our back tires.
He drives fast and hard with the confidence of someone who's never been told he isn't good enough. On the drive, Cain tells me something about himself. He used to play football. I pry out of him that he was good. Really good. Talented enough to get a scholarship to a small out-of-state college.
"Why didn't you go?" I ask.
He stares ahead. "It was before. If they knew what happened, they'd pull their offer. Plus, if I'd left the state, it would've made the cops even more suspicious."