Unperturbed by my situation, he steered me back inside. “Please stay in the house until we hear from Mr. Olysses.”
The door slammed shut once more.
“Who the hell is Cleo?” I yelled into the empty entrance hall, then pulled my phone from my back pocket, dialing Althea. I needed to speak to my husband but didn’t have his number.
She answered on the second ring, her voice cheery. I betshe’dalready had at least one cup of coffee.
“Sweetheart, how was your first night in your new home?”
“It was okay. I was just calling to see if you could send me Gabriel’s number by any chance? I need to talk to him.”
There was a pause, and then she cleared her throat. “He didn’t give you his number?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“I’ll text it to you right now.”
My phone dinged a moment later. “Thank you so much.”
“Not a problem. I’ll see you on our shopping trip on Saturday. Freya is picking you up at ten.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Call me if you need anything. Or if you just want to talk. I don’t have much on today. I could also come over for a visit.”
The thought of Althea seeing the state of the house sent a shiver down my spine. “I’ll take you up on your offer soon, promise. But I want to get the house in order first.”
“Of course. I remember when Constantine and I first moved in together, I changed all his walls and threw out his uncomfortable furniture. Let me know if you need a second opinion on color choices or design.”
At this stage, I would be grateful for a chair and plates. Or a bed.
“I will. Thank you so much. Talk to you soon.”
“All right, dear. Bye.”
I saved Gabriel’s number in my phone, then hit Call. He didn’t pick up, and I left a message. “Gabriel, this is Vanna. Call me when you get this.”
Since there was nowhere to sit, I went back to my bedroom and pulled a book out from one of the storage boxes that had been delivered, then took a seat on my clothes pile.
I longed to put my books back on a shelf, but since there was no furniture, they had to remain where they were for now.
I also missed having other people around. The only regret I had from moving out of Aleksándr’s house was that I could no longer talk to Marina, our housekeeper. She’d been like a mother to me, making sure I ate, had clean clothes and someone to confide in.
I could use her advice. She and her son, Caspar, were the only friends I’d ever known. It hurt thinking of them. And the chances of ever seeing them again were nonexistent.
Without my old phone, I had none of their numbers. And since I’d never been allowed out of the house much, I didn’t know where they lived. Maybe that had been Aleksándr’s intention when he kept my phone. Completely cutting me off from my old life.
I’d been lost in my book for a couple hours when I heard the front door slam shut.
I threw the book on the floor before jumping to my feet. I raced around the pile of clothes, tripping on the clothes covering the floor. I flew down the stairs, debating if I could get away with sliding down the banister. It was wide and would make a perfect slide.
But whoever had just come inside would most likely be mortified to see me use anything but the stairs.
I stumbled into the foyer, locking eyes with a woman about my age. Out-of-control dark curls framed her face, and she was wearing thick, black-rimmed glasses. Her rosebud mouth formed anO, and she stared at me as if I had two heads.
My hand lifted before my brain had time to catch up, and I waved at her. “Hi. I’m Vanna.”
Shaking herself out of her stupor, she finally closed her mouth and held out her hand. “Hi, Vanna. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Cleo, your housekeeper.”