Lillibet twisted in her seat to offer a smile of reassurance. “Your uncle probably wants to make sure you’re okay.”
Hildy’s bottom lip jutted. “I’d be more okay if he trusted me to be a responsible adult. Not that I’m not. Everything I said about working for us was totally legit.”
“I feckin’ hope so,” the housekeeper muttered. Lillibet opened her mouth to reply, but the muffled sound of voices drew everyone’s attention to the front porch. Mr. L was shaking hands with another man in a suit, the latter holding a briefcase.
“That’s not my uncle.” Hildy sounded relieved, but Lillibet didn’t move from her crouched position, body angled sideways to hide behind the dash.
“Why don’t you go ahead?” she said. “Find your uncle. Talk it out. We’ll give you some space. Take the whole house, and I’ll… make myself scarce.” Reaching behind her, she opened the door and slid onto the driveway, all without lifting her head. Jefferson watched her sneak around the back of the vehicle, still bent double.
“Um,” Hildy said.
“That’ll be one of their games,” the housekeeper assured them. “Proper kinky little fellow, our Mr. L.”
Hildy made a noise of agreement. “I got that from the shower.”
Jefferson watched Lillibet dash across the grass, yank on the door of an older-model truck, and throw herself into the backseat. After the man with the briefcase backed carefully out ofthe driveway, Mr. L surveyed the front garden through narrowed eyes before heading inside.
“Get on with you, then.” The housekeeper made a shooing motion.
Hildy sent Jefferson a we’ll-be-talking-about-this-later look before climbing out of the car.
“In my opinion, the bidet is the most misunderstood of bathroom fixtures…” Mr. L was saying when Jefferson walked into the living room behind Hildy. It sounded like they’d arrived in the nick of time.
“There you are!” A middle-aged man with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair rose from the couch, holding his arms out.
Apart from the bow tie, Uncle Richard did not resemble the picture Hildy had painted. Jefferson was expecting pinstripes and baldness, with the pasty complexion of someone who spent most of his time indoors. The actual man was tall and round-bellied, with wide blue eyes blinking behind round tortoiseshell frames. He’d taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down, either as a concession to the heat or because this was his off-duty mode.
“Here I am,” Hildy agreed, not quite stomping across the room to hug him.
Maybe she had a point about her uncle’s undermining. His arrival seemed to have de-aged her straight to adolescence.
“And this must be the Iceman.”
Jefferson expected the bone-crushing handshake of a man who believed testosterone could be measured by grip strength, but at the last minute Hildy’s uncle pulled him into an embrace.
“Thank you,” he said hoarsely, slapping Jefferson on the back, “for saving my baby.”
Jefferson inclined his head as he pulled away, hoping they could leave it at that.
“How did you even find me?” Hildy demanded. “I know for a fact I turned off location sharing.”
Her uncle wagged a finger. “Not with Thelma.”
“Thelma would never sell me down the river.”
“No, but she has been known to leave her phone unattended. Everyone needs the bathroom eventually.”
“Hear, hear,” said Lillibet’s husband. “The cornerstone of my business philosophy.”
“Thelma is my uncle’s executive assistant,” Hildy explained for Jefferson’s benefit. “The power behind the throne.”
Uncle Richard looked like he was about to argue the point before visibly gathering himself. “The important thing is that you’re safe and sound.”
“Um, yeah. You saw the press conference.”
Jefferson made a mental note to tell Hildy later that her bid for independence would be more effective without the eye-rolling.
“I’m talking about you running off like this. ‘I’ve found a mentor who can help me realize my full potential.’ All that about ‘going into seclusion’ and the need to do a ‘spiritual detox’ while you ‘re-orient your priorities.’ It sounded like you were joining a cult! You know they prey on college girls. For what I’m paying, you’d think that school would keep closer tabs on you.”
