Chapter seventeen
Lindsay
Steve doesn't bring me a stack of resumes. He brings me one woman.
"She passed," he says simply, standing near the doorway like this is a formality. "Every background check. Every reference. Every scenario question."
The woman standing beside him is wearing a plaid jacket over a bright pink blouse, knee-high boots that definitely weren't chosen to blend in, and an expression that suggests she's already decided she can handle whatever this job throws at her.
She meets my eyes without hesitation. No awe. No calculation. No false humility.
"I'm Quinn," she says. "I hear you're allergic to B.S."
Steve winces slightly. I smile.
Quinn perches on the arm of a chair like she's assessing the room more than me. She answers my questions directly. Where she's worked. Who she's said no to. The last client she walked away from—and why.
"I don't manage people who want to be worshipped," she says. "And I don't work for people who confuse money with permission."
Arthur, seated quietly to the side, says nothing. He hasn’t interrupted once.
Steve says nothing.
This is clearly my call.
I lean forward. "If you ever call me ma'am," I tell her, "I'll fire you on principle."
Quinn grins. "Good. If you ever ask me to lie for you, I'll quit."
Something clicks. Clean. Immediate.
When Quinn leaves the room—already discussing logistics with Steve—I realize my hands are steady.
Arthur looks at me.
"You're getting more comfortable," he observes.
"Yes," I say. "I like Quinn. She won't try to change me."
He considers that longer than he considers most things. "You chose well," he says.
Arthur simply stands there, solid, thoughtful, recalibrating his internal systems around a new variable.
"She passed my worst questions," he says finally. "The ones most people fail."
Something warm spreads through my chest.
I smile despite myself.
Arthur said I chose well. Not because he liked Quinn. Because he liked that I did.
***
Quinn moves into the guest house the next morning.
I watch from my window as she supervises her boxes being unloaded from a sleek black SUV. She's not hands-off—shecarries smaller items herself, directs the placement of furniture, and checks her watch only once.
I'm struck by how different she is from the staff already working here. They move almost invisibly, creating order without being seen.
