Chapter VII

After work, the driver took me home. I hadn't seen Mr. Gladstone since my accident, and I didn't want to. What was I supposed to say? Luckily, I only ran into one or two co-workers on my way out of the building. Prin talked about how cute I looked, which was a little annoying. But the day was over with. I would go home, change my clothes - especially my underwear! - and spend a quiet night in my room.

"Alright but you look so f-" Sam looked past her best friend in the foyer and saw one of the other maids behind her with a disapproving glare. Sam sighed in defeat, before adjusting her attitude and avoiding cursing. She didn’t want to be in trouble again. "I mean," clenched teeth, "Lady Anderson, you look lovely." Curtsy dip. Ugh!

"I don't want to talk about it," I said quietly, exhausted from the long day. The pink shortalls only came halfway down my thighs, and were strapped over a sparkly t-shirt. Honestly, I looked like an overgrown child. And I felt like it too, with these stupid training pants... "I'm going to my room." I walked past my best friend and went up two flights of stairs to get changed.

"Well, Lady Anderson, I've been instructed to take you to your room anyway.” So Sam followed her. Despite the protests, despite the arguments, despite everything Natalie wanted, Sam continued to follow her.

I didn't have the energy to fight with her. But when we got to my bedroom, she followed me in. "I have to get changed," I told her. "Go wait outside or something." I hadn't meant to sound so bossy, but I couldn't take off these shortalls until she left. God forbid she see these stupid trainers...

"Well, I'd love to." Click went the door, and once the two of them were alone. "But Cora sent home a bag of the clothes you were wearing when you left for work today, and I had to go and get them dry-cleaned."

I looked at Sam with wide eyes. My clothes from work? My panties. My dress. My white tights. All totally soaked. She... she didn't know, did she? I felt like a deer in headlights. My heart was racing. "I... um..."

"It's weird, you know, I figured you changed at work to go out for a lunch or something, but when I started going through the clothes..." Long pause. Awkward pause. Because they both knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Y-yeah, um... Maisie brought her nephew to work. He's only a year old, so..." Wow, good lie Natalie. "I was on changing duty, and... yeah. It sucked. Now can you please go away for a minute so I can get out of these work clothes?" That was probably the only time someone called pink shortalls 'work clothes'.

"Are you sure? Because your panties were the wettest thing in the whole bunch, and I'm pretty sure you're lying your face off to me right now." Arms crossed. No more subtlety. Sam was absolutely done with this mess.

I bit my lip nervously and looked away from my best friend. A blush filled my cheeks. "So you did, huh?" she said, more to herself than to me. I crossed my arms over my chest, but I couldn't make eye contact. "It was an accident. And it's barely my fault! Mr. Gladstone--"

"I don't get it, like, I know you need this job and stuff but now you're lying to me?” Obviously things were different here because rich people were different, they lived different lives, they did things differently, they saw people differently - but this had all been so... obtuse.

"It's not like I wanted to!” I was shouting now. I was upset and frustrated and humiliated and I didn't want to talk about this! But Sam wasn't letting it go. "It just happened and I'm so embarrassed and what if he fires me?!" Tears dripped down my cheeks and I wiped them away, trying to hide them from my best friend.

"Then you'll find a new..." Except Sam knew that her best friend wouldn't find a new job, and that she needed this like she needed oxygen, that she didn't have a damn choice in the matter. And maybe she was right, maybe Sam was overreacting here, but it was still... she deflated, and puffed her cheeks out with a long sigh. "I just didn't expect this."

"Yeah, I didn't either..." Wetting myself in my office. Dressed in something so childish. Wearing padded underwear. I rubbed the tears from my face and looked down shamefully. "I... I want to change my clothes. Can you just... give me some space?"

"Well I..." Yeah that question was complicated, that was a tough question, because... "I can't, because I'm supposed to dress and undress you, that's part of my job... so..." Sam's voice had gotten lower when she said that, because she had her own damn consequences to deal with.

I looked at Sam in awe. Like she'd said a swear word in elementary school. Like she'd told a bad joke. "I don't need you to dress me," I said firmly, with rising irritation. Then, as I realized exactly what she would see under my dress, the irritation boiled over. "Get out of my room."

"Natalie!" Sam was frustrated, flustered. "This is my job, okay? And I'm not thrilled about what they make me do, but listen!” Deep breath, Sam, deep breath. "If you don't let me do my job, they're gonna know, you know that right? And then you'll probably get scolded."

"They aren't my parents! And I'm not a kid!" "You're sure acting like one!" This was too much. Today had been the worst day of my entire life, and now this? No. "Get out." "Nat-" "GET OUT!" Sam glared at me. She'd get in trouble for not following the rules. But the rules were stupid! I didn't need help changing my clothes! Sam eventually turned on her heel and walked out of my room, slamming the door behind her.

"What do you think?" Cora said, tapping her finger to her chin as she watched the monitors. "Not exactly what we wanted..." "But the seeds are sown," Ando mused. They both watched as the girl on the screen stripped the childish clothes off herself and tucked the padded trainers far into the back drawer of her dresser. "What about Sam?" Cora asked. "If we keep pushing her, she'll lash out. We should cut her some slack..."

“We can make use of her. She's fiercely independent, after all, and this role in domestic servitude leaves her in need of... an outlet. " Ando thought about it, clipping the end of his cigar as he paced the darkened surveillance room. "She sees her best friend treated as royalty while she's scrubbing floors and doing laundry; if we continue to spoil Natalie while providing a healthy fear economy, we should be able to cultivate a response in Samantha." He lit his cigar, smiling. "It could be advantageous."

"I don't know, darling." Cora watched another screen. Sam, storming down the stairs. She was a volatile girl. She was difficult to work with. Hm... "We need to ensure Sam turns against Natalie - not us. She needs more leniency." Cora knew her husband. Leniency wasn't his thing. But Cora was rarely wrong about these things.

"Can we use her? You know how much I hate to waste a resource.“

"Natalie isn't ready." Cora sighed and thought to herself. "For now, I'll have Eloise assign Sam some easier tasks. That reflects well on us. And you know what the help is saying, don't you? How the new princess is spoiled, how she gets everything she wants. Soon, Sam will overhear. Jealousy can be so infectious." And from jealousy, resentment. The easiest way to break a friendship apart.

"Alright, my dear, you know that I trust you." Ando put his cigar down on the edge of an ashtray and watched the screen, studiously taking in the motions of Natalie in her bedroom; oh how she made him boil inside in just the right way. Fascination, delight, but most of all... power.

Cora wrapped her arms around her husband's hips and pushed her cheek into her shoulder. "I think she's ready for Phase two." Ando's muscles tensed. She could feel them. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Yes dear. I'm sure." Ando and Cora had done all they could. They had planted the seeds. Now, they had to be patient. This had to be her idea, after all. That night, after Natalie had fallen asleep, static started to play over the speakers hidden in her bedroom walls.