Page 5 of SAFEHOUSE


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“All right, Amira. Then you must also call me Julien,” he answered. “The kitchen is not too much further away now.”

He turned and headed back out the door, not bothering to see if I was following along. I raised my brow but said nothing.

We reached the end of the hallway and went through a pair of heavy wooden doors that gave way to the surprisingly modernized French kitchen beyond. I wasn’t exactly sure of what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. The rest of the castle had a far-off feeling to it, as if I was entering a storybook or something. I kept getting the feeling of being underdressed as we went through from room to room. But the kitchen was cozier, not small, but not as nearly as large as I thought it would be. It had modern top-grade appliances and a large hearth along one of the walls. There was enough seating for ten people easily, but no one was there except for a man who was hunched over one of the industrial-sized stoves, muttering to himself.

After having to deal with being pushed through angry crowds, being covered up with an honest-to-God blanket in front of the media, and having even been shoved into closets and other confined placed, it was nice to be in a large open space with barely anyone else around me. Somehow I felt… safer. If that were even possible for me now.

Julien walked over to the man, clapping him on the back before they began talking.

All this foreign language stuff was already driving me nuts. I stood there, wondering how hard it would be to teach myself French in a couple of weeks.

Julien waved me on over. “Gervaise says that he would be willing to make whatever your heart desires. What are you hungry for?”

I looked around the kitchen as if it would give me some kind of clue. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a proper meal, sitting down at a table. But still, my stomach was just settling in and I found myself not wanting to eat too heavily.

I hated being put on the spot like that, and shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not really sure. I don’t really know French cuisine all that well. Would he be able to make something simple? Like a sandwich or something? I mean I could even go in there and do it myself. He doesn’t need to trouble himself with making me something to eat.”

At this, Gervaise turned on his heel to face me, his forehead wrinkling as he glared at me. Julien chuckled, shaking his head.

“I don’t think you understand the way it works here. Gervaise fulfills himself by preparing you food. It’s his job, and therefore if you don’t let him do his job, well, it upsets him. Please have him make something for you. I promise whatever it is will be delicious,” Julien said.

I bit my lip. Outside of being at a restaurant, I didn’t really have people around to cook for me. Well, besides Rosita when I would go visit her sometimes. So this whole being catered to thing was completely new to me. I nodded though, not wanting to offend the poor guy again.

“I apologize, Gervaise. I was only just trying to make it easier on you. I’m pretty indecisive when it comes to food. How about something like a BLT?”

“Qu’est-ce que c’est que ça? What is BLT?” Gervaise asked, looking genuinely confused.

“Bacon, lettuce, tomato? That’s all that’s on the sandwich,” I explained.

“Ah, yes. Ce n’est pas un problème. Have seat.”

He got to work on the sandwich, and Julien and I took a seat at the long kitchen table. Even though I desperately wanted to, I kept my eyes low, and tried my best not to stare at him. I didn’t want to seem pathetic.

But he didn’t seem to be having that, and kept trying to catch my gaze. “So Amira, I had a chance to look through your file. I just want to be clear upfront—you are absolutely safe here. I know that sounds a little too good to be true, especially after what happened to you, but I can assure you that it is. There are many measures in place to ensure your safety, and if you ever need anything all you have to do is ask. I’m never too far away.”

His soft accent soothed me, almost like silk across my ebony skin. I didn’t want to enjoy it as much as I did, but he did actually make me feel better.

“Okay, you’ve read my file. At least I don’t have to go through all the details with yet another person, so thank you for that. What about you? Do I get some sort of secret file with all this impressive information about you in it? It would only be fair.”

The lightheartedness of my words surprised me. It had been so long since I had been able to relax, much less really smile. Yet it was so easy to just sit here and tease Julien, as if I had been doing it forever. Looking at him, you wouldn’t think he was approachable, but he seemed very down to Earth… and matched with his ability to charm the pants off of you… I was feeling better about the situation the more I spoke with him.

Julien gave me the sexiest crooked smile, folding his hands out in front of him on the table. “You want a file on me? And what do you hope to find out?”

Hmm, I thought. That’s a pretty good question.

I gave it some thought, as I looked up at the high-pitched ceiling above our heads. He sat there patiently waiting for my answer.

“A little background on you, for starters. You’re supposed to be entrusted with my safety? I don’t know anything about you. Also… how did you end up with a place like this? It’s just so, I don’t know, unreal. I still can’t believe I’m sitting here inside of it.”

He searched my eyes. I almost felt like he was digging through my thoughts, the way his own honey-colored eyes pierced mine.

“You don’t need a file to learn any of that. All you have to do is ask. I might just surprise you,” he replied, using that same silky tone as before.

&nb

sp; I felt the chills as they ran up my arms and raced down my back.

“Okay. Julien,” I began, taking in a deep breath after his name rolled off my tongue for the first time, sending even more shivers over my skin. “Tell me about yourself.”

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