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“It really depends. If someone is here, I’m here. If someone isn’t here, then I’m not.” Bristol grabbed a towel and wiped her hands. “There is a skeleton crew here all of the time to keep things clean and tidy, but that doesn’t include me.”

“Well, if you ever feel like cooking but aren’t working, I’m sure you can come hangout at the clubhouse.” I took another bite of my ice cream. “I know Indiana would absolutely love this.”

“Meg would love it, too. I remember these banana foster bars she used to make when I hung around

the clubhouse. One of the best things I’ve ever ate.”

“Meg Birch?” Bristol asked.

Marco nodded. “Yeah. She’s sort of like an honorary aunt for me. Along with all of the other ol’ ladies.”

Bristol laughed. “That woman is an absolute trip. I used to have a booth at the local craft and art fair in Rockton. She once bought out the booth because she didn’t want to have to bake anything for the clubhouse.”

“What did she buy?” I asked. In the brief couple of days I was at the clubhouse, I had quickly discovered that Meg was one hell of a cook. The first night there, we had ravioli in a meat sauce that was amazing.

“A mixture of lemon tarts, pecan bars, and cherry almond bread, I think.”

My mouth watered at the thought of anything cherry. “I won’t be upset at all if you decide to make cherry almond bread while I’m here.”

Marco chuckled.

“I just so happen to have everything on hand to do just that.” Bristol hung the towel on the handle of the stove. “I’ll let you two finish eating now, though.” She headed down the mystery hallway I had spotted before when I walked up the steps.

“Where did she go?” I asked Marco.

Marco finished his dessert and pushed the bowl away. “Staff quarters.”

“Staff quarters? Is that like servant quarters back in the day?”

“Uh, well, I suppose so, but none of these people are my servants, Royal. They’re all paid well above normal, and as you heard from Bristol, they work only a few days a month.”

I laughed. “Well, that’s good to know. How many people do you have on staff?”

Marco leveled his gaze on me. “I think you already know my answer to that.”

I chuckled and finished my dessert. “Shall I add counting the staff when I’m counting the rooms in the house?”

“I have a feeling you’re making fun of me, Royal.”

I shrugged. “I would never do that.” I was, and I planned on continuing. Something told me Marco needed a little bit of teasing to loosen him up.

“Do you want me to show you back to your room?”

“Back to the dungeon with me?” I laughed.

“I just figured you were ready for bed.”

I shook my head. “Hardly. I just slept for six hours, Marco. I’m ready for a Golden Girls marathon.”

“Well,” he drawled. “You have a TV in your bedroom or I can show you to the media room.”

“Of course the estate has a media room,” I laughed. Not surprised at all. Well, maybe I was a little bit. I was immersed in a life I could barely imagine. I was going to enjoy it for what it was, but I knew I couldn’t get used to it at all.

Marco stood and held out his hand to me. “Come. I’ll show you the media room and then you can decide where you want to watch TV.”

I put my hand in his, and he helped me off the stool. “Lead the way, mafia man.”

Marco chuckled and shook his head. “Not too sure you should call me that, Royal. At least, not when we’re around anyone.”

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