Chapter 1.
Cindy was stacking a shelf at Krogers when the scent of white musk and delicate jasmine aroused her senses. She turned to face the voluptuous bosom of a woman wearing a tight-fitting, black cashmere turtleneck.
She gulped as she raised her eyes to a face she recognized. A face that still haunted her dreams 25 years later: Eleanor. Excitement twisted in her stomach.
Eleanor's skin glowed with a healthy tan as if she had recently returned from a vacation to paradise. Her black hair was sleek as silk. She raised a single plucked eyebrow. She stared down at Cindy with eyes that glimmered gold.
Eleanor reached and cupped the nametag on Cindy's apron. A yellow gold Rolex with a white diamond dial shimmered on her wrist.
Cindy held her breath. Would she remember her from high school? All the times she carried her bags? Took her gym clothes home to wash and iron? Completed her homework? Sponge bathed her car? Waited in line to pick up her lunch?
"I need some assistance," said Eleanor, dropping Cindy's nametag.
Cindy nodded. Her response stalled in her throat. "Y-yes, of course. Happy to, Miss."
She felt the disappointment at not being recognized by Eleanor sink into the pit of her stomach. But then again, looking over Eleanor's curvacious body, seeing the Gucci belt over tight black jeans and Gucci boots encircled by jeweled straps, Eleanor was rich. Far too rich to ever be seen inside Krogers. Cindy meanwhile, was dressed in cargo pants and an apron stacking shelves.
Eleanor placed her hands on her hips and slotted her thumbs inside her belt. "I've had an awful day. My housekeeper found herself in the ICU before she'd even finished her chores. I've no food in the house and I don't have time to order any deliveries. I haven't the faintest idea what I'm supposed to do in a place like this. Where's the organic spinach? The collards? The pink lettuce?"
"Um, we have some things like that, Miss. But I think maybe your housekeeper shopped somewhere else. Maybe the Fresh Market?"
Eleanor's posture straightened as she inhaled her annoyance through her nose. Cindy felt the same intimidation as when they were eighteen. A familiar distress ran through her blood. She did not want to let Eleanor down. She wanted to please her. She wanted Eleanor to like her.
"Do you have a list, Miss?"
Eleanor retrieved a gold-plated iPhone Pro Max from the back pocket of her jeans. She scrolled over the glossy screen and raised her eyes to Cindy expectantly. Cindy jerked awake and retrieved her own, much smaller, older device. Eleanor's lip curled slightly at the sight of it.
Cindy flushed as she read out her number. A couple of seconds later her phone vibrated and she saw Eleanor's grocery list as an attachment.
"Thank you," she said, not sure why she was thanking her but feeling like it was somehow justified. "Let's see what you have here, Miss."
Eleanor sighed. "I don't have time for this. I have an appointment to get my nails done. "Why don't you go ahead and just collect everything for me?"
Cindy gulped. She'd been working all day. Her shift was about to end. She'd been looking forward to going home and taking a bath. Just a glance at the list showed how daunting a task it would be. She was sure Krogers did not stock even a third of what Eleanor sought.
But she couldn't say no. The teenager lurking inside of her leaped at the opportunity to help. "S-sure. I can do that. Um, what time do you want to pick it up?"
"It'll be easier if you just deliver it to my house."
Eleanor tapped her screen and a second message vibrated on Cindy's phone. It was Eleanor's address. She lived in Paradise Hills, the rich area of town.
Cindy always knew Eleanor would be successful at anything she chose to do. She had always been the most popular, charismatic, and beautiful person in any room, but those were only her surface qualities. Cindy had witnessed Eleanor's intelligence and creativity firsthand. It was always a privilege to be in her presence. It was a treat to smell her perfume, see her clothes, and admire her body. It had made coming to work worth it.
"I'll expect you around six," said Eleanor.
It wasn't a question.
"O-of course, Miss, I'll see you then," said Cindy, swallowing another urge to thank her.
Eleanor said nothing as she sauntered away down the aisle. Cindy watched, mesmerized by the sway of her buttocks inside her jeans. The eyes of every customer, male, and female, shifted to Eleanor as she swept by them in a designer haze of perfume and labels. Cindy knew they were all thinking the same thing: what the hell was a woman who looked like that doing inside Krogers?
Cindy smiled. She was revitalized. Eleanor had chosen her. Out of all the staff she could have approached, Cindy was the one.
Eleanor may not have remembered her name or face, but a part of her must have recalled that skinny, diffident girl who had always tried so hard to please her. Cindy's efforts had left a mark on Eleanor's subconscious. It was the only explanation as to why she would entrust her groceries to her.
Cindy looked down at Eleanor's grocery list on her phone, eager to get started, but her skin prickled with dread as she grew more aware that Krogers sold almost nothing Eleanor wanted.
Horror replaced her fervor. She got to work, rushing through the aisles in a vain attempt to find something, anything, on the list. She dared not substitute brand names. Krogers own was fine for people like Cindy, but Eleanor required better. The risk of failure invoked Cindy's old anxiety.
It was just like that time in high school when she had asked Eleanor for permission to take some time in the evening to work on her own assignment since she had already finished, edited, and polished Eleanor's. Eleanor's response had been to stare through her like she was a bug. Cindy always shriveled under that stare. She had immediately apologized, her voice cracking as tears threatened to spill. Eleanor never said a word. She never needed to. She simply walked away leaving Cindy to quietly sob over her mistake.
Cindy worked harder than ever after that. She agonized over Eleanor's assignment, ensuring each sentence was perfect, each point was cross-referenced, each semi-colon was grammatical. It was a month before Eleanor allowed Cindy to be near her again. The relief Cindy had felt at Eleanor's A+ made her cry. And when Eleanor told Cindy her lunch order one beautiful day, it made the F Cindy received for the hastily scribbled essay she had written minutes before the start of class, worth more than the world.
Cindy would not let Eleanor down. She would drive to every grocery store in the city if she had to. Eleanor's housekeeper had been capable of finding everything Eleanor needed. Why couldn't Cindy? Eleanor was worth the effort.
*
Cindy drove for five hours stopping at every high-end supermarket and exclusive grocers she could find. With Eleanor's deadline, she had no time to stop and rest. The AC in her 2001 Ford Taurus had stopped working a long time ago. She was sweaty and exhausted by the time she was done.
She arrived at Eleanor's Paradise Hills address with just fifteen minutes to spare. Gilded gates guarded the mansion beyond. Cindy got out of her car and looked through the bars at the long driveway and multi-acre lawn that led to a multi-million manor.
Eleanor was wealthier than Cindy had ever dreamed possible.
She looked back at the first and only car she had ever bought. Even then it had been second-hand. She regretted not stopping to have it washed. It looked depressed, as if embarrassed to exist. The thought that the bags of groceries in the trunk were worth more than the car itself put Cindy's life into perspective.
The bill was huge. Far more than Cindy had expected or could afford. It was lucky her family had gotten into the habit of living frugally. Her husband hadn't worked for years ever since he was laid off. Cindy had been the sole breadwinner and she controlled their finances, only spending money on absolute necessities. It enabled Cindy to create a safety net for themselves. But the sight of all that money leaving her account to pay for Eleanor's groceries was terrifying. The receipts were in her pocket. She was anxious about broaching the subject of repayment. Should she give Eleanor the receipts or wait to be asked?
She pressed a buzzer on the gate and waited for a response. It was a minute before a girl's voice, not Eleanor's, came languidly through the speaker.
"Yeah? What?"
