A writing desk by the window houses a lamp and a small vase of fresh white peonies.
My apartment could fit in here three times.
“I-I think there’s been a mistake,” I begin, pausing as my voice comes out wrong. Too thin.
“Is there a problem?”
“No. It’s just… I don’t need this much space…” I was expecting a converted storage closet, Harry Potter style. Or a staff room with a cot and a shared bathroom. Not this. Not a room with peonies and a rug that my feet sink into and windows that overlook a garden.
“I’m afraid there are no smaller options,” Mikhail says. “But, if necessary, I can bring up the prospect of a room change with?—”
“No! No. Please, I’m very grateful. It’s perfect,” I interrupt, hating that I’m already sounding like a nuisance. “I’m sure I’ll settle in in no time at all. Thank you.”
Mikhail eyes me for a moment. It doesn’t look like he’s used to someone like me. Welcome to the club, buddy. I’m new to people like you, too.
“Lunch will be served in about an hour,” he finally says. “I’ll have a tray brought up while you settle in.”
“Th-thank you,” I try to recover. “That would be lovely.”
“Very well.”
He turns to leave, but before he can, my curiosity gets the better of me. As usual. If I were a cat, I’d have run out of lives a long time ago.
“The parents,” I blurt out. “I mean, my employers. I, uh, when will I have the honor of meeting them?”
Mikhail stops briefly.
“Mr. Belov is traveling and likely won’t return until next week,” he explains. “Tomorrow, you’ll receive a full orientation, house rules, schedule, and expectations. Your work with Anya begins Monday.”
“Can I ask—” I hesitate. “Anya’s mother. Will I be meeting her as well?”
The change is immediate. A micro-flinch, and suddenly a door is closing behind his eyes.
“Anya’s mother passed away,” he says, lips tightening. “At birth. You’ll find that the subject is not discussed in this household.”
My heart drops. Poor Anya.
And poor Mr. Belov too.
“I understand,” I somberly nod. “I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t move. “Miss Calloway. A few things you should know before tomorrow’s orientation.”
The nerves coil in my gut.
“The east wing is residential, consisting of your room, Anya’s room, the classroom, and the family living areas. You have full access here during daytime hours. After 9:00 p.m., please remain in your room or the residential corridor.”
“After nine?”
“Mr. Belov conducts business most evenings. The rest of the house is in active use by staff and associates. For your comfort and privacy, it’s best to stay in the residential wing at night.”
For my comfort.
“The west wing and the lower level are restricted. You’ll see doors with keypads. Please don’t attempt to access them. They’re administrative areas. If you need anything from those areas, ask Angelina or me. She will be the one helping you, and we’ll retrieve it for you.”
“Of course.”
“Your phone works normally inside the estate. The Wi-Fi password is on the card on your desk. However, I should mention that the estate network is monitored for security purposes. This is standard for a private residence of this size.”
