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She tilts her head to the side, facing Emilio and his entourage, her pout deepening with every stride they take towards us.
“Yes, I suppose I wouldn’t be so lucky.” I laugh at the absurdity of my statement. “Another time.”
“Wherever, whenever," she says. "We've got all the time in the world."
You don't know the half of it, my precious little thing.
Chapter 4
Alyssa
“May I help you with something, Miss Dresden?” Herman Vance asks. He’s a middle-aged man with a fit build and dressed in a black suit with a thin tie standing at the end of the hall with both arms firmly held behind his back.
After Cain disappeared with Emilio and whoever else wanted a word with him, Herman sought me out to get me situated. He told me that he was the butler for the Hawthorne residence, gave me a tour of the lavish mansion, and showed Tony and me to our rooms. He’s been lingering close to me ever since, and I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that it’s by Cain’s order to keep me comfortable.
“I heard thunder crack in the distance,” I say. “I ought to check on Tony and ensure he’s fine.”
Herman nods. “Indeed, a storm is brewing. But the young master is sound asleep. The old master, on the other hand, is lively and awake. Mr. Hawthorne has requested your company outside.” Herman’s formality makes me feel like a princess being summoned by a prince in a fairytale. The way he speaks oozes pomp and elegance.
But it’s not how he said it, but the words that came from his mouth that see me chewing on the inside of my cheek. Cain wants to see me? I’m not used to so much attention from the people I work with. They’re usually busy and interested in having me tend to their children while they go on extravagant business meetings or holidays abroad. Cain has done everything possible to seek me out and spend time with me.
“He has? But he was busy with Emilio and—” I cut my sentence short, realizing that I have no idea who any of the other men were.
I’ve been a nanny for over a year now, rarely spending more than a few days per house. The agency I work for, aptly titled The Poppin’ Poppins, has their newest staff tend to shorter contracts to get a feel for the job they’re going to do. The first night is always the hardest. I don’t know the place or the people, and it’s a roundabout of trying to figure things out and get comfortable. Cain has made every attempt to make the transition easier on me and I’m sure this invitation outside is another way of taking some strain off my shoulders.
Somewhere deep inside, that’s not all I want it to be. Devious thoughts have crossed my mind during every interaction Cain Hawthorne and I have had. I’ve laughed and chuckled at the worst times, trying to still my running mind of the indecent daydream of Cain Hawthorne’s clean-shaven face gripped between my thighs, his tongue slithering over my intimacy.
Even now, my cheeks burn a dark shade of red and my lungs expel all their air.
“Concluded,” Herman says. “Shall I take you to Mr. Hawthorne, or would you prefer to call it an early night?”
“Please, take me to him,” I say. “He’s a busy man. I'd like to use this opportunity to get to know my new boss.”
I’m deluding myself by thinking that going out to meet with Cain is purely professional. The brief moments we spent together saw me fawning over him and unable to hold myself upright but the little lies we tell ourselves to get through are always the easiest told.
Herman chuckles. It’s soft and knowing as if he can see straight through my bullshit answer. “This way then.”
He spins on his heels and slowly starts down the hall. His pace quickens when I catch up to him. The off-white walls hold various pictures of the Hawthorne family. The closer we get to the front door, the older they become.
The last picture moving through the Hawthorne lineage is a painting of a dapper young man, his wife, and six children. If it weren’t for the age of the portrait, I’d have mistaken the man for Cain himself and the mother and children, his wife and kids. But I’ve been here a few hours now, and not once have I heard another woman’s voice nor the excited screeching of children storming through the halls.
Herman leads me outside, down a grand staircase leading to the driveway, and then into a small thicket of trees on the outskirts of Cain’s land. Thunder continues to crack in the distance, lighting up the sky while we walk deeper into the dark woods. I should be scared, right? This is every girl’s nightmare?
“Excuse the journey,” Herman says. He grabs a stack of thin branches and pulls them aside for me to pass. “Mr. Hawthorne has a penchant for running into the woods when times get tough. He’s been doing it ever since he was a boy.”
“You’ve been with the family long?” I ask, nodding in appreciation for his efforts to make my walk easier.
“Longer than I care to admit,” Herman says. “But my family and theirs have been together for eons, and it would hardly be proper to break tradition.”
I’d love to trade places with you.
Herman releases the branches. They snap back into place with a low rustle nearly inaudible behind the sound of the icy cold wind howling through the tree line. He stops dead in his tracks.
“You aren't far now. Keep traveling straight ahead.” He points in the direction I should follow. “By Mr. Hawthorne’s request, I won’t be joining you.”
“What if I get lost?” Hardly an actual problem. The brush of trees isn’t enough to properly lose yourself in. It’s more like a bunch of trees planted to break up the mundanity of purely flat land.
“If you scream, they will come,” Herman says, somewhat ominously, but a laugh accompanies his words to still nerves that never sprouted fear. “You can’t miss it.”
