Nik comes in, smiling. I’m curled up in the big comfy chair in the corner, cuddling into the lap rug that hangs over the back of it, even though it’s not at all cold in the house. But it just feels better to be covered up.
“Hi, Oliver,” he says gently. “We missed you after dinner.”
“Shyeah, right. Were you taking bets on what else I’d fuck up?”
“Not at all.” Nik comes over and sits on the arm of the chair, putting a hand on my shoulder. “It was an accident, and Elliot—uh, Lord Arden—understands that. I promise.”
Under his hand, I give a shrug.
“I was hoping you might come out to help in the lounge,” Nik goes on tentatively. “Really, it wasn’t that big a deal, and Zee and I want you to enjoy yourself while you’re here. No one’s angry.”
I’m used to being shouted at—at the Bellamy, I deal with entitled screamers all the time—but I’ve never had an experience like tonight, with a roomful of people I’m trying to impress all staring at me in stunned horror.
I keep reliving that moment when the wine went all over Haughty Hottie, and cringing.
I cringe again now. “I think maybe I’ll just chill out here, then go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll pack my shit and get out.” Turns out Brandon was right—thiswasa bad idea, only not for the reasons he thought.
“I wish you’d give us a chance,” Nik says softly. “If nothing else, it broke the ice.”
I snort, still unwilling to see the funny side.
“I’ll think about it,” I say at last. “I mean…I guess I don’t want to let you down, or Zee. But I can’t go back up there tonight. Please don’t make me.”
“Of course not. And we’d be delighted if youwouldstay through to Monday morning, as planned. But of course, we’ll respect your decision.” He gives me a little pat on the arm and gets up to leave. “Maybe tomorrow you’ll see the funny side.”
* * *
The next morning, I wake well before the alarm that I know is due to go off at six a.m. and I lie there for a while in the warm cocoon of the softest bed I’ve ever slept in, considering my options.
When my belly gurgles, I figure at least one decision is made: I should go have breakfast before anything else. When I get out of the shower, I figure I might as well put the uniform on, and after that, I definitely need to put the mask on. It doesn’t seem complete without it.
When I walk in the door of the staff area, the whole staff stop their work and clap at my entrance. For a second I think it’s sarcastic—but then Amelie, Zee’s maid, comes up to me and gives me a big, ostentatious hug. “You know how many dudes I’ve dumped wine on at restaurants in my time?” she says, flicking her hair back over her shoulder after she lets me go. “They don’t care, as long as you’re cute. Andyou, honey, are cute enough to dump wine over people. I’m glad you’re staying.” There’s a murmur of agreement from everyone else.
I look down for a beat and then back up. “I have to confess, it was tactical,” I say with a bravado I don’t feel. “He’s not gonna forget me, right?”
There’s a staff-wide laugh, and then I make my decision.
I’ll stay.
I’ll stay, and I’ll pull on myworkpersona. I’ll forget about being a sub first and foremost while I’m here, and I’ll act like I act at the Bellamy: the perfect concierge, who can meet all needs, answer all questions, solve all problems. If Lord Arden wants service, he’ll get thebestservice.
Daniel—the guy who suggested I go see about dessert last night—beckons me over with a smile. “I was about to start preparing Lord Arden’s breakfast. Let me show you what he likes, and then maybe you can take it up?”
I take a deep breath. “Take two,” I said lightly, but my heart is making its way toward my shoes.
Ireallydon’t feel up to facing those haughty eyes again so soon.
CHAPTER6
Elliot
Iforce myself to sleep six hours or so overnight, although there is a painful period of lying wide awake in the dark, thinking about whether I’ve done the right thing at all by taking some Hollywood job. But I do manage to force myself back into slumber in the end, and when I wake, it’s to the soft susurration of curtains being drawn, the scent of hot coffee, toast and eggs, and I stretch luxuriantly in the silky sheets.
And it occurs to me that perhaps Oliver—
But no. As I sit up in bed, I see my servant this morning is one of Niklaus's regulars, Daniel. A beautiful andverywell-trained young man, to be sure.
But he’s not Oliver.
