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Suddenly, she sat up.
Idiot!
What am I doing?
This was the perfect time for her to go exploring. Alejandro wasn’t here, and, at three in the morning surely everyone would be asleep.
Yep. She was an idiot.
Crawling out of her fort, she stood and glanced down at herself. Urgh, not the best sneaking-around outfit, but she didn’t have much choice. Moving to the door, she turned the knob.
Um. What?
She tried to turn it again. Nothing
“That jerk! That no-good pumpernickel.”
Okay, she knew pumpernickel was a bread, but she always liked saying that word.
How dare he lock her in? What did he think she was going to do? Sneak around his house?
Oh . . . right.
Was he onto her? Did he know who she was? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought.
Even if he’d tried to do a background check on her, Isaiah had made her backstory airtight. There was no way he’d figure out that Catherine Smithson was actually Catarina Pérez.
Not that she’d used Pérez as her last name for a long time. Mama had made them use false names while they were traveling, and then, at the Cult of the Divine, only first names were used.
But if he didn’t know who she was, then why would he have locked the door?
Urgh!
This was not cool!
Bringing her foot back, she slammed it against the door.
Ouch! Shit! Owie!
Hopping around the room, she toppled onto her makeshift fort.
Her toe throbbed, making her sniffle.
Why did she do that? That was so darn stupid. What if she’d broken her toe? It could definitely be broken.
Someday, her impulsivity was really going to get her into trouble.
Suddenly, the door opened, and the creepy butler appeared.
“What is all that noise?” His eyes widened with horror. “What are you doing?”
“Lying on the floor, holding my toe because it’s broken.” Then she remembered that she was only wearing Alejandro’s shirt and nothing else. With her leg in the air, she was probably flashing Bernie. She forced herself to sit, but didn’t let go of her foot.
“How did you break your toe?” he asked skeptically.
“By kicking the door.”
He sniffed. “Seems a foolish thing to do. You probably deserve a broken toe.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say. Cute PJs, by the way. Are those rubber duckies on them?”
“Never you mind what pajamas I wear.”
His pajamas were blue and white striped with images of rubber ducks on them.
They were really sweet. Unlike Bernie, who, as it turned out, was a total jerkface.
“What have you done to this room?” he asked, looking around.
“I made a fort.”
“It’s a mess. Is this the way you treat other people’s property?”
Jeez.
“Uh, I didn’t wreck anything. I just pulled the mattress and bedding off the bed. Nothing was harmed. Unlike my poor toe, which is definitely injured.”
“Perhaps that’s karma.”
“You believe in karma?” He had all the buttons on his pajama top done up. That wasn’t normal. How could he sleep like that? Didn’t the top one suffocate him? That’s what buttons did to her.
They were damn tricky things.
You had to do up enough of them to cover yourself, but not so many that you choked.
“I do when it comes to people who do not respect other people’s property,” he said huffily.
“I bet you don’t jump in puddles, do you?”
“Why would I want to jump in puddles?” he asked, looking confused.
“Exactly. If you don’t know, then you probably don’t do it. Really, I feel sorry for you.”
“You feel sorry for me?” he asked.
“Yep. Because you don’t know the joy of jumping in a puddle. Or making mud pies. Or sticking your face in your birthday cake. It’s just sad.”
“I am not a child. And those things sound foolish.”
Foolish? She didn’t think so! There was nothing like jumping in a puddle when you were feeling grumpy. Or skipping along while singing a silly song. Guaranteed to lift your spirits.
And frankly, if anyone could do with their spirits being raised, it was Bernie.
“You know, you might not be so grouchy and, well, pasty, if you undid a button or two.”
“I am not grouchy, nor am I pasty. What I am . . . is out of patience. You will put everything back where it was. In the same condition. And you will refrain from waking up the entire household with your shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans? Really? I stubbed my toe.”
“Because you were kicking a door. Of a house you do not own. What if you put a hole in the door? How do you think Mr. De Leon would feel about that?”
She didn’t really think that was possible. But the idea did make her feel bad.
“I didn’t put a hole in the door, though. And I didn’t destroy anything.”
He sniffed. Did he have a nasal issue?
“Do you need a tissue?”
“No.” He stared down his nose at her. “Why would you ask me that?”
