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Thirty-Five
KARISSA
Nothing turned out to be exactly that — nothing at all. A day without stress, or worry, or having to keep tabs on three dozen workers spread out over five or six separate crews.
And it was absolutely magical.
We lounged around until mid-afternoon, talking and resting and enjoying the beautiful day. We did our best to avoid discussing business as we walked the manor’s sprawling gardens, but the guys just couldn’t help it. They told me how it had all once looked back in the nineteenth century, when the manor was booming. Then, hedge by hedge, fountain by fountain, they explained what their own vision would be.
It was interesting as hell, watching them work. Seeing the three of them collaborate on the same project, each in their own unique way. It wasn’t something I’d been privy to before, because they’d kept their company entirely separate from the work I was doing. But it reminded me of being in bed with them. Of watching them communicate with each other, usually wordlessly, as they worked on me.
By the time the sun was setting, we were indoors again. The temperature had dropped abruptly, and a cold rain started to fall. Bryce had run out for Chinese food because none of us felt like cooking. Roderick and Camden were down in the gym, formerly known as the library.
They’d be down there a while, pumping iron. Stretching and flexing their bodies until their muscles were all swollen and taut.
It left me just enough time…
Sweeping up the grand staircase, I fled to the upstairs hallway with a trio of items I had high hopes for. One was a magnetic screwdriver, the other a large paper-clip. The last was a wire coat hanger I’d unraveled halfway, so I could still get a good grip on the base end of it.
One of these things, I hoped, would get my broken key out of the jammed lock.
The screwdriver’s too fat.
I knew that in my head, but a quick try at the lock confirmed it. Kneeling before the mystery door once again, I tossed the tool aside and straightened one side of the paper-clip.
It almost worked but not quite.
“Motherfucker.”
The paper-clip was too thin to be useful. It rattled around in the lock for a while, but I couldn’t feel it catching on anything. My last chance was the coat hanger, which could be thick enough. It in fact would be thick enough, if only I could—
Reaching back for it, my hand closed over something warm and familiar. Something I knew was a bare foot.
“Here.”
My blood ran cold. Turning around, I stared up into the impassive face of Roderick. He had an arm extended and was handing me the last of my three makeshift tools.
“You could try the coat hanger,” he said simply. “Or you could just try opening the door. It’s unlocked, you know.”
I knelt there speechless, turning eighteen different shades of red. I could see him enjoying each one. His own skin was red too, still flush from his workout. His chest and arms looked pumped and swollen.
“I found a piece of key broken off in there yesterday,” he said matter of factly. “Took me an hour to ge
t it out. I figured I was yours.”
Well… shit.
He held out his hand, to help me up. Rather than take it, I got up myself.
“Go on,” said Roderick. “Open it.”
For a moment I stood there silently. Eventually I shook my head.
“You wanted to see what’s inside, didn’t you?”
“Yes. But you told me not to.”
“So?”
