Page 2 of Rich Forever: Zo & Remy

“My pawpaw was right, you muhfuckas are lazy. This generation has no work ethic. Hands and knees like I like it, baby girl.” He chuckled as he turned around and walked toward the back of the mansion. Leaving me to clean his mess.

Before he rounded the corner, he looked back at me and said, “Remy is going to get you fucked up. I suggest you stop listening to her. Aight?”

We both stood there for a second as I tried to keep it together. But I’m sure she could see everything in my eyes. The frustration, the defeat, the sadness, all of it.

“I’m sorry, let me get a broom and help you,” She apologized before I could stop her and jogged over to the supply closet.

She came back with a broom, a dustpan, and a trash bag, went to the corner of the house, and started sweeping the vase pieces into a pile.

“Remy, I’ve got it. I don’t want him to get upset with you.” I warned her. She stopped abruptly and closed a little bit of the space between us.

“And do what exactly? Words are one thing, Liv. But if Karlos ever puts his hands on me, he’ll be buried so fast they won’t even need to embalm him. Now come on, once you get this floor done, you’ll be off for the day. This is too much of a house for you to do all at once.” She said as she wiped the lone tear from my face and continued to sweep.

She swept the glass while I mopped over the places that he had walked through before I did the final wax.

“Do you have an extra pair of booties?” She asked, standing frozen in place with the bag full of glass in her hand. I reached into my apron and gave her a pair, and she slipped them on before carefully walking through the floor.

I smiled, which I had rarely done in the eight months that I had been here. It was a simple gesture, but it really just showed the type of person she was. She was such a treasure. I hoped that no matter what, wherever life took her, she would find someone better than Karlos Weston.

***

Today was another long day; the Weston mansion had been swarming with guests from sunup to sundown. I was thankful for Karlos bringing in the other two housekeepers to help me with the cleanup from the bridal shower. The trash itself was nothing like I had ever seen it. Hundreds of people came to celebrate the upcoming union. Between half-eaten plates, drinks, fallen meatballs, and macaroni noodles in the grass, the cleanup was a nightmare.

The guests had finally gone home, and the three of us were cleaning while Remy and her sister Taylor sat at one of thetables and talked. They laughed loudly ever so often and gave an occasional high five to each other. Remy had called me over earlier in the day to introduce us. Her sister was the younger version of her, in every way, and she was just as sweet.

Then the sliding door opened, and out walked Karlos, holding flowers and wearing a crooked smile. He walked through the backyard to the girls who were enjoying themselves, shook hands with Taylor, and handed her the bouquet of flowers.

He was going the extra mile and laying it on thick, trying to convince Taylor that he was a good guy. I watched as he walked over to Remy and pulled her into an embrace that she looked like she’d rather evaporate than fall into. But she did, and then he grabbed her chin and kissed her like they were starring in the next adult film. I closed my eyes for a second, cringing before I turned away. But it was like a train wreck, I couldn’t stop watching. When I turned back, he had her tucked at his side with his arm around her waist. She had a pageant smile on her face as she stood there, painting the perfect picture of what never was.

I put my headphones on and just kept filling bag after bag. I worked well into the night, even when the other girls had gone. I was tired and thirsty. But I knew that if Mr. Weston woke up and the house wasn’t back in its original condition, he was going to blow a gasket.

I loaded the last trash bag and pushed the bag bin to the curb. I had worked so long that my phone died, and my only music was the crickets in the distance. I sighed once I had finally finished, and I walked through the backyard and around to the sliding glass door. Inside, I caught a piece of another conversation between Remy and Karlos. Since I overheard the last conversation a few weeks ago, this has become my newest form of entertainment. Watching her curve him repeatedly while he chased behind her and begged.

“You not coming to bed with me tonight?” He asked lowly.

“No, I’m not ready,” she mumbled.

“How much longer do you expect me to wait, Remy? A nigga got needs.” He shot back.

“Until we’re married. We have less than thirty days.” She answered. Her tone was different than all the other times that I had heard her. It sounded sultry, almost seductive in a way that made me look in their direction, and what I saw wasn’t on my bingo board.

He was sitting at the barstool, and she was standing in front of him. Her arms were around his neck as he rubbed her butt with one hand and held a cup of whiskey in the other.

“Just come to the room, I want to lay with you.” He begged. His tone caused my lunch to rise to my throat; the only time he remotely acted this way was with her. His obsession with her ran deep.

“Okay.” I heard her say softly, and I almost lost my footing. I don’t know if she was drunk and horny, or if she was just in the wedding spirit, but this was unlike anything that I had witnessed since she’s been in this house. If she went into that room, she was making a deal with the devil. But it wasn’t my business. I just shook my head and went to shower and lay it down for the night, hoping he didn’t taint the only ally I had in the house.

After I soaked in the tub, I got dressed and went in search of something to drink. I walked through the house in my pajamas; it was cold and dark. But I was thankful for the silence. As I neared the end of the hallway, I saw a dim light coming from the kitchen, and I was praying that it was Remy there and not Mr. Weston because I knew he was going to find some task for me to do, and I just wasn’t in the mood to put up with his bitchy attitude.

When I rounded the corner, I saw Remy standing there, still in full glam, eating a cup of yogurt.

“You’re up late,” She giggled.

“Yeah, I wanted a bottle of water. I was out in the sun so long I feel dehydrated.” I said, my scratchy voice confirming my statement.

She turned, got a bottle of water, and tossed it to me. I sat on the bar stool and opened it quickly.

“Why are you still here?” She asked me bluntly, cutting the silence like it bothered her not to know. It was unexpected, and as long as I had been here, she had never asked. Just like I hadn’t asked her.