Chapter 003: Guilt

Maximilian

I have to admit that I feel like shit for having fired that woman when she's the only reason why I'm breathing properly today.

If Sammy had drowned in that pool, I'd rain hell down on all those fucking incompetent people. There wouldn't be a single person left standing to tell the story. 

I dismissed her like she was nothing, only for her to end up saving my nephew minutes later, a boy who means the world to me. I can't take the image of her soaking wet with water pooling at her feet from my mind. Her gaze was steady, and to make matters worse, she hadn't looked at me with resentment. I only saw exhaustion in them, and that made me feel small. Smaller than I ever have in my entire life. 

Edmund has his arms around my sister, and he's whispering comforting words to her. She's a mess. Then again, I don't blame her. I had a few meetings today, but I've since had them rescheduled. Sammy almost drowning took a toll on us, and things haven't been easy since my father's cancer diagnosis.

We're all tense and on edge. To lose Sammy so suddenly would've crushed us. I'm schooled in loss, but it takes a chunk out of you every time, and words can't describe how devastated we'd all be if something happened to Sammy. 

I run a hand through my hair, and take a seat next to Rebecca. The plastic chair squeaks when I sit down, and Edmund shoots me a comical look that honestly makes me feel like strangling him. 

"Okay there?" he asks. 

I shake my head at him, disgusted. "I can't believe you're making jokes at a time like this. Your son almost drowned."

"True, but he didn't," he claims. "And I'm so relieved that I could shit my pants. You Loxleys are such tragic people. Come, darling. No more tears. Our son is alive and well, and all we can do is celebrate."

"Celebrate?" I echo. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Enough, both of you," Rebecca sniffles, sitting up straight. "I don't want to hear you anymore. My head hurts."

Edmund ignores her and points a finger at me. "You helped save his life, you know?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you weren't such an incorrigible asshole, that maid would've never been outside on time to save my son," he claims. "I take it she was leaving when she saw him. You know exactly what I'm talking about, Max. Don't make that face."

"She was the maid who poured water all over you?" Rebecca asks in wonder. 

I clench my jaw as I glare at Edmund. I fucking hate him. I know he's married to my sister, but I hate his guts even if he did help her create my favorite human in the world. There's nothing in the world that he takes seriously, and that pisses me off. He's too much of an actor; it's impossible to tell who he really is due to his inconsistent character. 

"Oh, we need to do something about that," Rebecca claims as she wipes her tears. "The poor woman. She was probably so scared and nervous. We need to ask her to work for us again. Do you think she'll accept?"

"Work for us again?" I echo. "We can compensate her duly, but that's it. Just because she saved Sammy doesn't mean she's a competent maid. She still poured ice-cold water all over me, for fuck's sake."

Edmund points a finger at me again, and I tell myself that the next time he does, I'll reach over and break it. "You're only saying that to save face. Of course, she'll work for us again. We need more people like that around us. She could've let him drown just to spite us for humiliating her. There's a lot to be thankful for."

"Yes, you're right, love," Rebecca says. "We have to thank her for what she's done. Honey, will you take care of this?"

"Of course, honey," he says before pressing a kiss to her lips. "Max and I will take care of this. What time is it?"

"You can do it yourself," I state. "I have more important things to do."

Rebecca's head snaps in my direction. "More important than thanking the woman who saved your nephew's life!?"

"Yes, tell him, honey," Edmund claims, smiling like a dick. "Teach your little brother some humility and consideration. He's so up in the clouds that he tends to forget these very important human emotions. You're no god, Max. You'll come with me to thank that very nice lady, and you'll even apologize for yelling at her in front of everyone. You'll do it because you love Sammy."

I clench my jaw and glare at him, and he tilts his head and says, "Or could it be possible that the great Maximilian Loxley is so ashamed that he doesn't want to see the woman again. Is that possible? A human emotion from you?"

"Enough, Ed," Rebecca says. "Please."

By the time we leave the hospital, the sun has set, and a quick call to Mrs. Danes confirms Ed's suspicions: all the employees have left for the day, including Sammy's rescuer. This upsets Ed, but I have to admit that it makes me feel relieved. I've never considered myself to be a coward, but being wrong in this situation is a hard pill for me to swallow. 

"I have an idea, Mrs. Danes," Edmund says on the phone, derailing my thoughts. "Give me her registered address. I'll go to her house and talk with her there."

I turn my head to glare at him, unable to believe his words. Edmund nods and says, "Don't worry, Mrs. Danes. We'll have a talk with her and if she accepts to come work for us, she'll be there tomorrow morning. I'll be waiting for the address."

When he hangs up, I ask him, "Are you out of your damn mind?"

"My wife has asked me to take care of the matter, Max," he reminds me. "I know how she is. I'd rather take care of it now than later. Don't you?"

I offer him no answer as we drive toward the woman's residence. She lives in an apartment downtown, and I'm fuming the whole way there. The light posts lining the sidewalk have just started turning on, and I focus on staring out the window rather than my thoughts. 

Before I realize it, we've arrived, and Edmund is parking the car along the road. We get out and approach the building. The building is a dump, and I want to be anywhere but here. We approach the intercom panel, and Ed presses the button right next to her apartment number. Her voice, muffled but clear enough, comes through. 

"Yes?"

"Miss Johnson," he begins in his charming, people-pleasing voice. He sounds like he's talking in a commercial. "This is Edmund Manney, I hope you still remember me."

A beat passes in silence, then she replies, "Yes, I do. Of course."

"Well, I'm here with my brother-in-law, and I would like to speak with you. Bad time?"

"No," says. "I'll buzz you in."

A few moments later, we're riding the small elevator to her floor, and I'm busy looking around at the filth when I hear Edmund laughing. "Come on, Max. You don't have to turn your nose up at everything."

"Why don't you mind your fucking business?" I ask him roughly as the elevator comes to a halt. He ignores my tone of voce completely, and we step out and approach her apartment number. He stops in front of her door, and rings the doorbell before stepping back. 

The door opens almost immediately, and the maid peers at us through the crack of the door, her eyes wide and inquisitive. 

She looks different than she did earlier. Her dark hair is down, and it's pretty long, nearly at her waist. She opens the door wider, and asks us, "Would you like to come inside?"

"Certainly," Ed says. "Thanks." 

He walks in first, and I follow him inside. Our eyes meet just as I'm walking through the door, and her gaze becomes sharp for a second before she averts her gaze. My gaze flickers over the apartment swiftly, and I take note of how clean it is compared to the rest of the building. There's also a faint smell in the air, something pleasant like vanilla and pear.

I realize that this scent is coming from her when she approaches us. Her feet are bare, and she's dressed in loose pants and a t-shirt with a robe over it. I catch the outline of her breasts right under the thick material of the robe, and direct my attention to her face instead. 

Edmund smiles, and starts talking.