Vivienne's smile vanished. She snatched the glass of water from the table and flicked her wrist.
Water streamed down my hair and into the collar of my uniform.
"Stella Graves, do you still think you're some high-and-mighty princess?"
"This is a Graves hotel. I'm your boss. Try me, and I'll have someone strip you naked and throw you out on the street."
I closed my eyes and drew a long breath.
For thirty-five hundred dollars a month. For survival. What was dignity worth?
I lowered my head, picked up the rag, and leaned toward Vivienne's shoe.
"Not with the rag."
Vivienne's smile was venomous.
"I want you to use your fingers. Pick it off, piece by piece."
The jeering around us swelled louder.
I reached out. My hand was an inch from the shoe when a polished leather oxford swung in from nowhere and kicked my bucket across the floor.
Dirty water erupted in every direction, spattering Vivienne from hem to collar.
"Aah!"
She shrieked and stumbled backward.
"Howard! What the hell!"
Howard looked down at me, his expression utterly blank.
"Clumsy and slow. Watching you work kills my appetite."
He turned to Vivienne, something unreadable shifting behind his eyes.