“I love it,” I say. The tea is incredibly tart but sweet. I take small sips, hoping the caffeine will wake me up and the sugar will keep me from passing out. The silence is weirdly intimate. I perch on the edge of a velvet chair, hands folded tight in my lap. “Your home is beautiful.”
Kieran leans back, fingers steepled under his chin. “Thank you. I’m lucky to have inherited a good business. Real estate’s been in my family for generations.”
I nod, unsure what to say. The longer I sit here, the more out of place I feel. The cup rattles slightly in my hands.
He watches me, eyes narrowed. “You’re nervous.”
“Is it that obvious?” I try to laugh, but it comes out as a squeak. “I guess I’m not used to…all of this.”
“You’ll get used to it,” he says, not unkindly. He sets his cup down, stands, and walks to the window. He stands there for a long moment, staring out at the rain streaking down the glass. When he turns back, his whole demeanor shifts. He suddenly seems colder and more distant, like he doesn’t trust me. “Let’s talk about your schedule.”
The sudden change catches me off guard. “Um, sure. What days do you need me?”
His eyes flicker down my body, lingering on my chest. I feel my face flush, and I cross my arms, suddenly very aware of how thin my sweater is.
“Every day,” he says softly. “Monday to Friday, seven a.m. to seven p.m. Nora needs help getting ready for school, and she needs someone here when she gets back. Sometimes she has nightmares at night, so overnights may be necessary. Is that a problem?”
My mouth goes dry. “I can do that.”
“You’d live here during the week then,” Kieran continues, his tone clipped and professional. “Weekends off, unless we need you. Is that acceptable?”
I nod, my heart hammering in my chest. “Yes. That’s…actually perfect.”
He studies me for a moment, as if weighing the truth of my answer. “You don’t like your current living situation.”
It’s not a question, so I don’t answer. I just look at the fire, letting the heat lick at my cheeks.
“There’s a guest suite on the second floor. You can see it if you’d like,” he continues.
My legs are shaky as I stand.
Kieran gestures for me to follow, and I do, trailing him through the maze of halls and up a grand staircase. The carpet is thick enough to swallow my sneakers, and the walls are lined with more paintings—wolves, forests, and the occasional family portrait. The air smells like pine and old books.
The guest suite is enormous.
It has a king-sized bed with a velvet headboard, a walk-in closet, and a bathroom bigger than my childhood bedroom. Everything is immaculate- white sheets, plush towels, little bottles of shampoo that look like they belong in a spa.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, turning a slow circle. The windows overlook the pond, and I can see the rain pelting the water in perfect little circles.
“If you need anything, let the staff know,” Kieran says. He stands in the doorway, arms crossed, blocking the hall. “When can you move in?”
“I’ll need to pack,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, satisfied. “So, tonight then. Drake will accompany you. For safety.”
A jolt runs through me at Drake’s name. “That’s not necessary. I can handle myself.”
“It’s absolutely no trouble,” he says, turning his head towards the door. “Drake!”
A few seconds later, Drake appears. He doesn’t look at me. He looks at Kieran.
“You called?”
“Francine needs to pack her things. You’ll take her.” Kieran’s words are clipped, final. His eyes flick to mine, holding my gaze for a long moment. “We take security very seriously here. You’ll always have protection while you’re in our employ.”
The way he says it makes my skin tingle. Drake nods, then turns to me, the green of his eyes almost glowing in the hallway light.
“Shall we?” he says, voice low and smooth.
