“So how does the household run now? What do you think will change?”
Her expression turns solemn. “I don’t know, ma’am. Mrs. Bixby and I, we’re worried about our jobs. Ernest, the gardener, and the driver too. We’ve all depended on the Abernathys for so many years. They were so young. Mrs. Abernathy was not yet fifty; her husband only a few years older.”
“You must have been horrified to hear the news.”
“We were all shocked. Their helicopter stalled in mid-air, and the poor pilot too.” She crosses herself. “God’s will, I suppose. Posey is too young to understand what happened, but I worry about Jason. How it will affect him.”
“Jason?” I remember the man from the outdoor party, and the dinner at the Swain-Black house.
“Their son,” she says tenderly. "My dear boy."
From her tone, I could hardly believe we're talking about the same Jason.
“You're fond of him?” I ask, surprised.
She smiles warmly. “Yes, despite it all.”
“Despite what?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
“He and his parents had a misunderstanding.” Her voice becomes diplomatic, careful.
From what Chloe tells me, it sounds like more than a misunderstanding.
“I hear they disowned him,” I say quietly.
Mrs. Bellows’ expression tightens slightly. “Yes, well, let’s not speak of that. I must get to the kitchen. I’ll leave you to get unpacked.”
She closes the door softly as she leaves, and I’m alone with my thoughts.
Mrs. Bellows genuinely cares about Jason; that much is obvious. But after what I witnessed at the party and dinner, her fondness puzzles me.
And what could he have done to make his own parents disown him completely?
I open my suitcase and unpack my meager belongings. Three changes of clothes, basic toiletries, and other personal items. My entire life in a suitcase.
Through the window, I spot the chef’s garden Mrs. Bellows mentioned. Neat rows of vegetables and herbs stretch toward a line of trees. It’s peaceful here, almost idyllic.
If only Cameron stopped treating me like a tabloid spy, everything would be great.
But when would that be?Time will tell.
CHAPTER 17
TARA
Once I unpack, I take a welcome shower. As I lather myself with herbal-scented body gel, I reflect on the tabloid article about Cameron's 'secret child.'
I remind myself that it must have been quite a shock for him to learn so suddenly he has a daughter. I try to imagine my reaction if this kind of news hit me out of the blue.
But it must be so much more difficult for a man like Cameron. A rockstar likely accustomed to a hard-partying lifestyle and independence.
Even though I resent his icy demeanor, I try to understand where it's coming from.
As I finish dressing, I hear the front door slam and echo through the mansion. It's followed by Posey's lively chatter as she greets Mrs. Bellows.
"Good afternoon, Posey, Mrs. Bixby," I say after I make my way down the stairs to the foyer.
Both the little girl and the stern nanny look up at me.
