“We need to talk,” he repeated. “But I don’t want you—us—ruining my furniture with this stink.” Their clothes were coated with reminders of the garbage dump and the smell returned with a vengeance. “I’ll have someone show you where you can clean up.”
Chapter14
“Holy crap!”Dizzie blurted like an idiot.
Killian’s housekeeper glanced around the guest bathroom. “Impressive, isn’t it?” Her smile was serene and the look in her dark eyes was friendly. Dressed in a stylish pantsuit and with her gray hair in a pixie cut, she didn’t look like the housekeepers in the vids.
“Um, yeah.” That was one word for it.Hugewas another. The bathroom was bigger than her entire quarters at Tremaine.
It was pretty, too. Not girly pretty. More like everything-matches-but-isn’t-tacky-and-must-be-super-expensive pretty.
Even if she weren’t covered in garbage, Dizzie would be extremely out of place.
“You can clean up in here,” the housekeeper said kindly. “Take your time. There’s a robe behind the door and a selection of loungewear in the bathing area. Use whatever you need. Leave your clothes outside the door and I’ll…” she paused, nose wrinkling. “I’ll see that they’re taken care of.”
Dizzie’s cheeks burned. She smelled bad and, from what she could see in the bathroom mirror, looked worse. “Thank you, Mrs. …ah…”
“Call me Elsa, dear,” she said. “All Mr. Killian’s friends do.”
Should she tell the other woman that she and Killian weren’t friends? No, that would make this whole situation more awkward.
“Okay. Thank you, Elsa.”
The woman smiled and left, closing the door behind her. Leaving Dizzie alone in a room that probably cost more than she’d earn in her lifetime. Her circumstances had changed so fast—too fast—and Dizzie found it hard to catch her breath.
She washed her hands multiple times and swished her mouth with water. Finally she felt almost human and calm enough to take in her surroundings.
In addition to the sink and a gleaming toilet, the bathroom contained a shower and the largest tub she’d ever seen. The white porcelain and shiny fixtures gleamed in the light, straight out of a homes-of-the-rich-and-famous profile.
The tub called to her.
Killian’s housekeeper said she could use this room. But she hadn’t meant the tub too. Had she?
No. She should shower. It would be quicker.
Before her internal debate escalated, Dizzie turned on the water for the tub. The old-fashioned fixtures flummoxed her for a moment while she tried to adjust the water temperature. The dorms didn’t have fancy bathtubs. She wiggled her fingers under the faucet and finally managed to get the water a few degrees below scalding.
Deciding she’d left good manners and probably self-preservation far behind, she opened cabinet doors. Bottles of bubble bath and other toiletries neatly lined the shelves. She grabbed a bottle of shimmery orange liquid labeled “citrus blossom.” She opened the bottle and sniffed.
Oh, it was perfect!
She tipped half the bottle into the water, laughing in delight when it foamed into fluffy bubbles.
Breathing in orange-scented air, she dropped her jacket on the floor. She kicked her boots off, leaving them in a haphazard pile next to her jacket.
She toed off her socks and braced for cold against her feet. They met warm tile instead and she sighed. A girl could get used to this.
While the tub filled, she stripped down to her bra and underwear, feeling too exposed to take off all her clothes, and turned on the shower. There was no way she was soaking in that tub with any trace of the garbage dump still on her.
Adjusting the temperature was easier this time. She grabbed the citrus blossom bottle and stepped under the water. It was like being caught in the Seattle rain, but this water was warm and welcoming. Unweaving her braid, she tilted her head back to let the water soak in, then poured the bath soap into her hands. She lathered up her hair and body, grateful to smell something other than the sour stench of garbage.
She rinsed and stepped out, worried that the tub would overflow while she was in the shower. Stepping carefully so she didn’t slip, Dizzie crossed to the tub and turned off the water.
With a death grip on the railing, she climbed the two steps that led up to the tub and dipped a toe into the water.
Perfect.
Steps led down into the tub as well. Water covered her ankles, then her knees. She lowered herself the rest of the way until her butt hit the tub floor. She rested her head against the water-warmed porcelain, leaning against the ledge.
