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30
Luxury
Though Graham wasn’t to be included in tonight’smysterydinner, he heard of his grandmother’s heart attack and came straight away. But I’m shocked to see that his plus one isn’t Alba, the woman he proposed to just months ago.
Though Alba and I were only acquainted for a brief time, we'd bonded as she encouraged me to read Momma’s diary.
Alba’s replacement is a certified platinum blonde with a thick North European accent. She's barely legal, toting a barely functioning brain. I stopped trying to make small talk with her a second after we met. We sit in a room of heavy furniture and shiny crystal.
“Burt?” I stand, thinking I saw him walking down the hall. After we made our plan to come home, Victor’s de facto father made his leave. Burt promised that we’d see him frequently, but this is rather frequent if my mind’s not playing tricks on me.
I find myself roaming the vast corridors, recalling how I complained to Burt about my first misunderstanding with Mary.
He appears again, no longer dressed in the penguin suit but in brown pants and a knit sweater. There truly is no moreBurt the Butler.
“Burt,” I call out to him, through tensed lips, in a firm, hushed voice.
His shoulders fall as if he got caught hand jammed in the cookie jar.
“Ahhh, Luxury, what a pleasant surprise. I was told you were all in Princess Mary's chambers.”
“No, just the brothers. I don't know which room Sarah is in.” I glance him over. “Your legs are in working order, I see. Surely, you’re aware of where Sarah’s staying?”
“I just got here.”
I fold my arms one over the other. “Take me to her room, Burt.”
“Sure.” He pauses.
“Have you seen Princess Mary today?” I ask as we walk. “And do the servants tell you how to sneak in and out of Sarah’s room?”
“Me?” He places a shocked hand on his chest. “Sneak around?”
I pick up speed, striding around to the front of Burt. “When I was bothering you every night while Victor was away, asking if he might have am—”
“Amnesia, yes, I recall.” Burt clears his throat as if encouraging me to walk.
I stay still, scrutinizing him. “You’d sneak off the phone on some occasions.”
He sputters, “Are you insinuating that I wasn’t worried for Victor?”
I laugh. “Don’t turn this around, Burt. I’m positive you adored his booboos when he was a tot. But you were engaged in FaceTime chats.”
His hand clamps over my mouth, and a second later, he gasps, dropping his hands to his sides. “Tell no one.”
Aw. The charming Burt the Butler presents a nice break in my nightmare. “You’re seeing Sarah.”
“I kept your secret.”
“I knew it.” I chuckle, waving my hand for him to lead me on. “Don’t worry. I won’t threaten to snitch. Take all the time you need.”
As we head down a long corridor, Burt says, “Alright, but I must provide background information before you reach your own conclusions. Sarah heard about the Arlington bomb. She was concerned for my leg. She’s compassionate. End of story.”
“Mm-hmm. Very compassionate. Burt and Sarah has a nice—”
“Burt and Sarah,what?” Victor’s voice booms down the long hallway. I almost jump out of my skin.
“Wait!” I shout as Victor heads toward us.
