SSMM Ch3

Belinda and Chitose are on their own. They’ll manage.

Ava scurries after Annette and Hailey, who make an interesting pair. Despite their differences, the blondes have a lot in common. Both are openly hostile toward this house and its owner. Annette is exhausted, probably with the endless games of keeping FUTA funded. Hailey, meanwhile, seems to feel something a little more passionate about all this. Resentment for being used this way? That’s not it.

“Just watch it,” Annette warns Hailey as Ava catches up. “You’re going to be on the short list of hot young women that Viv hasn’t slept with yet. Even odds she comes after you.”

“She’s not my type,” Hailey says darkly.

“How big of a check would it take?”

“From soccer to thinly-veiled prostitution to straight-up talking about it,” Hailey says, disgusted. “Let me answer your question with a question.”

“Please do,” Annette says invitingly as they approach the door.

“How about you go fuck yourself?”

“Keep talking like that and you’ll have all the cougars chasing you,” Annette replies, unimpressed.

“Just what I need.”

“How much just for her to do coke off your boobs?”

“Make the big titty anime maid do it,” Hailey snaps, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder at Ava.

“I’m not making anyone do anything,” Annette says with a yawn.

“You know, I was worried,” Ava says when they reach the shelter of the front door. “That I wouldn’t fit in. Because this was going to be such a professional, bougie situation and I’m just a barista with a shitty degree. But I worried for nothing.”

“Yeah. Loosen up,” Annette tells her with a scowl, looking her up and down. She frowns, then snaps her fingers a few times, pointing at Ava’s face.

“Ava,” Ava tells her helpfully. “My name is Ava.”

“Get the fucking bags, Ava.”

“Oh, right. Shit.” The driver left the bags here by the door. “Sorry.”

“You’re doing fine,” Annette says, watching Ava bend to pick up the bags.

“Really?” Hailey says to her, folding her arms.

“Look how she’s dressed,” Annette replies with a shrug. “If she didn’t want people looking, she’d have worn pants.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Haily mutters into her palm.

The door opens, revealing a…

“You fucking kidding me?!” Ava shouts, making everyone flinch. She drops the bags in her surprise. The only person who doesn’t jump is the maid inside the house.

She’s a lovely brunette a little older than Ava, not quite as tall, but with equally luscious proportions. Her black and white French maid outfit is the real thing, not a costume. It’s not nearly as revealing as Ava’s, yet it’s a thousand times sexier. This girl is an actual maid, yet she has all this poise that makes Ava feel like a… feral hog or something.

“What is your problem?” Hailey asks. “You OK?”

“The maid thing was gonna be my gimmick,” Ava mumbles, embarrassed. She starts gathering the bags. “Ignore me.”

“Hi, Jane,” Annette says to the maid.

“Welcome.” The maid smiles, but that smile doesn’t get anywhere near her eyes. She doesn’t look as edgy as Annette and Hailey, but she is. This girl is gorgeous, and she has put some effort into her appearance, but she is majorly checked out. Ava can see that with a glance, and she’s not even looking that hard.

“How are we looking?” Annette asks in a businesslike fashion.

“The weather is causing cancellations. Help staff, caterers.”

“Great. So, we don’t just have to deal with Viv, we have to deal with Viv, roughing it. Is there at least a cook here?”

“You’re looking at her,” Jane replies serenely. “Stay on my good side and follow me.”

“Kill me,” Annette mutters, crossing the threshold.

Hailey helps Ava with the bags and follows.

The inside of the house has no surprises; it’s spacious and lavish. The décor is more or less fashionable, although not especially interesting. There’s a lot of memorabilia from Hollywood that Ava thinks is kind of cool; posters for movies and awards won by Vivien Corbin. She is a decorated actress, but Ava’s not a movie person. Never has been. She’s seen… something that Vivien Corbin was in. She doesn’t remember anything about it, but Vivien was definitely legit A-list for a while.

They’re a few steps short of the stairs when voices come from the right.

A pair of women appear, holding mugs. They’re dressed similarly, or at least with similar sensibilities. There’s a blonde around Jane’s age, and a brunette who’s definitely a little older. The brunette’s making a little effort, and the blonde makes none at all: she wears thick glasses, no makeup, and her hair is in the messiest, frizziest ponytail that Ava has ever seen. Her linen pants and top do nothing to flatter her figure, whatever kind of figure it is. The brunette’s a little more polished, and she’s severe, like Annette. Maybe a little prettier.

The two women halt at the sight of their party, saying nothing. The blonde smiles warmly and gives a little wave.

Hailey waves back; Ava’s hands are full.

Jane clears her throat, and they follow her up the stairs, leaving those two behind.

“Who were they?” Annette mutters to Jane as they climb.

“That’s Ingrid. You know. The girl that survived that sorority thing,” Jane replies. “Or one of the survivors, I guess. And the lady with her is Ebba. She’s her literary agent. They’re Swedish. They speak English, though.”

“You didn’t recognize her?” Annette gives Ava a look.

“She was there before my time,” Ava replies defensively, struggling with the bags.

“She looks like a nerd,” Hailey remarks.

“She is. She wrote that book. That’s what she’s doing here,” Annette says.

“Pitching for the streaming platform? Cringe,” Hailey tells her as they enter the upstairs hallway. The house is bigger than it looked from the outside, but it’s not confusing. The hallways are wide and everything’s bright and perfect.

Ava stays quiet, embarrassed. She got to CCL too late to know Ingrid, or anyone who’d been there that night, but of course that book had been the talk of the sisterhood. She’d never bothered to read it. The murders hadn’t really been her concern; she’d wanted to get good grades, get more followers on Insta, and if there was time left over, kiss some girls. Four years of CCL hadn’t been the nonstop party that she’d hoped for, but she’d gotten to make some memories.

“Plenty of empty rooms,” Jane notes. “No need to double up with all the cancellations. This place’ll be empty.”

“Best news I’ve had all day,” Annette replies.

Jane situates Annette first, then Hailey. Finally, she opens a door and hands a key to Ava.

“Your name?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your name?” Jane asks, quite blunt. There’s no deference. She’s dressed as a servant and performing that function, but there is just no subordination at all. That doesn’t bother Ava; she respects it.

“It’s Ava,” Ava says, embarrassed. She offers her hand. “I’m being Annette’s assistant or gopher or whatever this weekend.”

“Enjoy,” Jane says, and she’s out of there before Ava can even think about what to say.

Ava stands in a nicely appointed room in an unfamiliar house with no set agenda. She probably ought to go find Annette and stick to her, but… nobody’s told her to do that.

Find Annette?

Or go exploring?