Chapter 4

Angela had moved out completely.

The next day Desmond came home from work to an empty apartment.

The door to the second bedroom stood open, the bed stripped and neat, the wardrobe hanging wide with not a single hanger left inside. In the bathroom, Angela's toothbrush, her towel, that plastic washbasin she'd used for years, all of it gone.

A key sat on the coffee table, holding down a note. 【Water bill's paid in full. There's $56 left on the electricity balance. It's yours.】

Desmond crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it in the trash.

“Fine, divorce it is.” He loosened his tie and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “Without you I'll starve, is that it?”

On the third day, Desmond called a housekeeping agency and asked for their top-tier live-in.

“Has to cook well, knows how to press a suit, quiet, quick on her feet.” He rattled off his requirements over the phone.

The agency sent over a woman called Sarah Lawrence soon enough. Seven thousand a month.

Desmond sat on the couch and watched Sarah work.

“Sarah, you mop with the imported cleaner, one part to fifty parts water.” He directed her. “And use the blue cloth for the table, the yellow one for the windowsill.”

Sarah nodded as she worked. “Got it, boss.”

For the first dinner, Sarah made braised short ribs, grilled sea bass, and a sautéed vegetable side.

Desmond took a bite of the short ribs and spat it right back out. “Too sweet! I don't eat sugar. Didn't you know that?”

Sarah stared at him. “Boss, who makes braised short ribs without sugar? You never said.”

“Angela… the woman before you never used sugar.……” Desmond set down his chopsticks. “Do it again.”

The next morning, getting ready for work, Desmond found a crease in the collar of his shirt.

“What is this?” He threw the shirt at Sarah. “The iron can't go over three hundred degrees. You've clearly scorched the fabric!”

“That's coming out of your pay.” Desmond took out his little notebook. “This shirt cost thirty-two hundred. Figuring in depreciation, that's five hundred off your wages.”

Within the week, Sarah quit. On her way out she threw her apron on the floor. “Seven grand and you want somebody to wait on you like the queen mother? Do it yourself! Whoever lasted twenty-six years in this house must've had the patience of a saint!”

Over the next month, Desmond went through four more housekeepers.

He was left eating out or ordering takeout. But the takeout was greasy, and it left his stomach aching.

Late one night, Desmond sat in the messy living room as his stomach cramped. Out of habit he called out, “Angela, where's the stomach medicine?”

No answer. Only the robot vacuum bumping into a chair leg with its dull, droning hum.

Desmond took out his phone and opened Angela's chat profile. She'd changed her picture. It used to be a lotus flower. Now it was a landscape shot.

On her feed, Angela had posted nine photos.

Location: the Great Smoky Mountains.

In the pictures she wore bright folk costume, standing on a bamboo raft, mountains and green water stretching out behind her. She was laughing, and there were two dimples at the corners of her mouth that Desmond had never once noticed. The caption read: 【Half a life caged, free in a single day. The wind off the river is so sweet.】

Desmond stared at the photo, his fingers clamping down on the phone. Where did she get the money?

Her pension was only thirty-two hundred. Airfare and a hotel in the Smokies, this trip had to be five thousand at least. Was she burning through her savings? That was her retirement money. Once it was gone, let's see what she did then.

Desmond dialed Angela's number.

Five rings, then she picked up.

The background was noisy, water sounds, someone singing folk songs.

“Hello?” Angela sounded full of energy.

“Where are you?” Desmond asked, his face dark.

“The Smokies.”

“You've got money for vacations now?” Desmond gave a cold snort. “Angela, don't say I didn't warn you. Once that little pension of yours is spent, coming back to beg me won't help. By then, remarrying won't come as cheap as being a full-time housekeeper.”

A soft laugh came from her end. “Mr. James, still keeping accounts at a time like this? How I spend my money is my business. The lawyer's letter should be reaching your office soon. Remember to sign for it.”

“You actually hired a lawyer?” Desmond stood up and kicked a takeout box out of the way. “Angela, have you lost your mind? Lawyers cost money. Can you even afford tens of thousands in legal fees? And I've told you, you don't stand a chance. I've got twenty-six years of ledgers!”

“Whether I stand a chance or not, we'll settle it in court.” With that, Angela hung up.

Desmond listened to the dial tone, so angry he laughed.

“Fine. Just fine.”

He leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath. He was sure Angela hadn't hidden any assets. He'd never actually checked the statements on her salary card, but forty-five hundred a month, minus her split of the expenses, left almost nothing.

He was waiting to watch her plead poverty in court and make a fool of herself.