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And for the first time since I watched her arrive on the estate, I feel like a true villain.
Chapter Ten
Mariah
My mom is here...
I open my eyes just as Chastity yanks the pillow out from under my head.
“Get up,” she says. “Edward wants to see you at the winery, and he insisted I make sure you eat breakfast.”
“What time is it?” I sit upright, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“It’s almost nine. Christopher’s already left for school. I won’t have you lazing around my house all morning.”
I convince her to let me get dressed in peace and promise to meet her in the kitchen. After a quick shower, I pull on a pair of leggings and slip my grandpa’s flannel over mom’s old Aerosmith tee.
Chastity’s already seated at the breakfast table, sipping something from a champagne flute that smells very alcoholic. I take a seat at the place setting across from her, in front of a tall drinking glass containing a thick, red liquid.
“It’s vegetable juice cocktail,” Chastity says. “Drink up. It’s good for you.”
“Can I just have toast?” I ask.
“If you drink your juice first.”
I take a tentative sip of the intimidating mystery beverage. It’s not bad. Kind of sweet, and a little metallic. I drink a few gulps before I need to take a break.
Chastity watches me like she’s waiting for the poison to kick in.
“Um,” I say, “do you happen to have any old photo albums or loose photographs lying around? Specifically, ones that were here when you guys moved in.”
“I doubt it. But I could tell the maid to check in storage. If you insist.”
“Please,” I say.
“Fine. Now, finish your juice. Edward’s expecting you.”
“What about the toast?”
Her jaw twitches. “I’ll have the cook to make it to-go.”
I politely refuse a ride to the winery, opting instead to munch my toast on the walk over. It’s a nice morning, sunny and warm. I’m still reeling from my conversation with Will last night. If what he said is true, and my mom’s ghost is here, then I need to find her.
Edward’s assistant, a short, red-haired woman with glasses, meets me on the terrace. I follow her up to his office. He’s on the phone when I enter. He makes the one-minute sign with his finger, then points to the empty chair in front of his desk. I sit.
“I’ll call next week to confirm,” he says and then hangs up. “Good morning, Mariah. I trust Chastity made sure you had a decent breakfast.”
“She certainly did.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” I say. He continues to stare like he expects a more detailed answer. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
He clasps his hands on the desk blotter. “One of our tasting-room assistants appears to have left us permanently. These things happen, people come and go. However, that means there’s now a job opening assisting the sommeliers who host our winery tours. I’d like you to consider it.”
“Is that even legal? I’m not eighteen yet.”
He bats away my concern. “What we don’t tell Uncle Sam won’t hurt him. Besides, I think you’d be good at it. You have a beautiful smile, a friendly demeanor. I know it’s not the most glamorous position, but there’s always room for growth. And selfishly, I’m hoping it’ll make you feel more invested in this place.”
