AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Finally, I can’t take the suspense any longer. I peer around the edge of the carved doorframe and into the room, where Sarah now wears a crown and a cape. In one hand, she holds a scepter with a large, plastic jewel on the end. Ophilia is busy tucking fake flowers into Sarah’s long, dark blonde braid.
And they both look like they are in utter heaven. That’s what matters. That’s what helps me breathe a little easier before I back away from the door, more certain than ever that I’ve made the right decision.
Though she did lie. Someone should tell her if she plans on lying, she had better get more practice with it.
3
SARAH
“One more story?”
I take a look at the little clock on her nightstand that doubles as a night light, then shake my head with a regretful frown. “I don’t think so, kiddo. I’ll read you another one first thing in the morning, I promise.”
She snuggles deep under her pink blankets while her chocolate brown curls fan across her pink pillowcase. “I’m going to remind you.”
“I’m sure you will.” If there’s anything I’ve learned in the past several hours with this child, it’s how focused she is on justice. I guess kids her age are like that. You make them a promise, and they intend to make sure you see it through. They have to trust, right? They have to believe that even though they’re powerless, even though there’s always somebody telling them what to do because they’re too young to make decisions for themselves, there’s still a sense of control.
I should know since I was that kind of kid. Only I wasn’t nearly as lucky as this little girl in her gorgeous room with every toy and every costume imaginable at her fingertips.
“You sleep tight.” We haven’t known each other long enough yet for a kiss on the forehead to feel right, so I settle for stroking her hair before standing.
“Hug, please?” I lean down for a quick hug, and she’s smiling in satisfaction when I straighten up and return the book to its shelf. “And you’re going to be here in the morning?”
“I’ll be here in the morning,” I promise before blowing her a kiss and closing the door. All in all, not a bad first day.
Actually, it was a very good one. I smile to myself in satisfaction and relief before remembering I still have a lot more to do tonight. I need to get set up in my new room, and it would be nice to get an idea of the house layout before tomorrow. I would love nothing more than to tour this enormous castle—at least, that’s how it seems to me—but one thing makes me pause. How do I avoid Matteo?
As it turns out, it’s already too late for that. “She tucked in?”
My heart threatens to lodge itself in my throat since I didn’t hear Matteo approach. Now, after I whirl around, he’s standing in front of me wearing the same dark gray suit that looked so good on him earlier. I don’t know whether I’m more afraid or impressed. All I know for sure is that I’m overwhelmed by his nearness.
“All tucked in,” I croak before clearing my throat. “I was going to go to my room now, get myself set up. I only have that one small bag I brought with me, and your housekeeper was nice enough to take it to my room.”
“Grace is very helpful.” His lips twitch, and I can’t quite tell if that was a joke or not. “I was about to go down for dinner. Come with me.”
It’s funny how two completely opposite reactions can take place at the same time. The thought of food makes my stomach contract painfully. I was hoping to sneak down to the kitchen and grab something from the fridge when nobody was looking, since I can’t remember the last time I had a decent meal. I didn’t think it would be appropriate to share Ophilia’s dinner, either.
But sitting down with him? I can barely breathe right now as it is. Sitting through an entire meal might kill me. “I had a little something to eat earlier,” I tell him. “But thank you.”
“There’s always room for dessert.” He narrows his eyes, searching my face. “You can go to your room, freshen up if you need to, then meet me in the dining room in half an hour. I’ll be ready for dessert by then.” He holds my gaze a bit longer than necessary before turning away and sauntering down the hall. My chest is so tight, I can barely draw a breath, and my head is spinning; I know he won’t take no for an answer. Not a man like him.
My room is just across the hall from Ophilia’s, which I guess is a deliberate move, so we’re never very far from each other. It only takes me a few minutes to hang a few things and slide a few more things into the drawers of a beautiful antique dresser. The room is stunning, but then, so is the entire house. It does seem awfully big for a father and daughter, though. I guess there’s other staff living here as well. Still, it’s not the same as a family.
He said something about freshening up, didn’t he? I don’t want to disappoint him, so I change into the only nice sweater I own, then unwind my braid and brush it out, letting the waves hang well past my shoulders. I can’t do much else since I don’t have much else to work with. The salary offered during the application process will be more than enough for me to start working on a decent wardrobe and basic beauty products.
Just the idea of finally having everything I need makes me tingle down to my fingertips. I don’t think anybody who hasn’t gone through the sort of shit I’ve endured could fully understand what security will mean.
But first things first. If I want security, I’ve got to keep the boss happy, which means wandering around the house before arriving at my destination. Thankfully, I gave myself plenty of time, so I’m actually a few minutes early when I stride into a formal dining room with much more confidence than I feel inside.
“I appreciate punctuality.” Matteo sets aside the tablet he was reading from before pushing his plate back to signal he’s finished his meal. There is still plenty of chicken and roast potato on that plate, so I have to settle for studying the room rather than looking like a pathetic loser and drooling over his leftovers.
He catches me, of course, and is smirking when I look his way again. “This is a beautiful home. I am really thrilled to be here.”
“Thank you. It’s good that you’re here.”
Is it? Then why does he stare at me with what almost seems like anger? Like he resents me for some reason. Why hire me if he resents me? Maybe I’m imagining it—my imagination has been known to run away with me, and this is a dangerous man, after all. I doubt anybody could blame me for being apprehensive. But I can’t let that go too far, to where I start making things up in my head.
“How was it you were ready to move in at the drop of a hat?” He toys with a glass of wine, swirling the ruby liquid but staring at me the whole time.
