“Good afternoon, Miss Georgie,” she says kindly. “Can I get something for you? Oh my goodness, you don’t need to bring your dishes to the kitchen. I will do all that for you.” Her expression is strained.
I giggle. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying some dishes. And I was on my way to the kitchen, anyway. Don’t waste your legs. That’s what they always say.”
The housekeeper smiles, crinkling her face. She looks about mid-fifties, with warm, bright blue eyes.
“I’m Melinda,” she says, tilting her head to the side.
“Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I smile, too.
Over the next week, it becomes a little ritual for me to take my tray of empty dishes to the kitchen, and for Melinda to moan at me for trying to steal her job.
She’s lovely. She makes me laugh, and she brings me lavender tea while I sit online doing my classes.
There is one head security guard whom I hardly ever see, and then there is the chef, who happens to be Melina’s husband, Jeremy.
Every night, Kristopher has Melinda come up to my room to tell me dinner is ready and being served in the dining room. And every night, I make an excuse, saying I have to study still, because I prefer hiding in my room to the idea of sitting at a table with Kristopher while my mind plays tricks on me and my body taunts me with how gorgeous he is.
The fleeting moments when I bump into him in the mansion are enough.
And the mansion…it’s ridiculous. It’s massive. It’s practically a castle, and so luxurious I feel like I’m on the set of a movie, like it can’t possibly be real.
It’s past nine and dark outside my bedroom window when I close my textbook and push it away from me across the bed. I glance at my watch, and when I realize the time, my grumbling stomach makes more sense.
Sliding off the side of the bed, I stretch my body, rolling my shoulders, then tiptoe out into the hall, glancing up and down to make sure the coast is clear.
This is another ritual.
I sneak downstairs after everyone has retired for the night, find the plate of food Jeremey has left for me and eat quietly, alone and in peace.
I tug the fridge open and smile. Yesterday, he asked me what my favorite food was, and I said a good old-fashioned burger. And that’s exactly what he’s made me.
On the side of the plate is a little note.
Heat the air fryer so the roll stays crispy.
I pull the plate from the fridge and follow his instructions.
Then I lean against the kitchen counter and take big bites of the best burger I’ve ever had.
“What are you doing?” Kristopher’s voice makes me jump and almost choke as I swallow what’s in my mouth.
“I’m eating dinner,” I huff, covering my mouth with my hand.
“In here? Surrounded by dirty dishes, in a kitchen that hasn’t been cleaned yet?” He sounds so angry.
I knit my brows. “It’s really not that bad. It’s just from tonight’s dinner,” I shrug, looking around.
“You’re not even sitting at the kitchen table. You’re standing and eating.”
I shake my head. “So?” I say defensively.
“Georgie, there is a massive dining room table, and that is where you will be eating dinner from now on. Not in here,” he demands.
“I don’t see how this affects you.”
“You are my wife,” he snaps.
“I’m not really your…”
