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“As soon as we get a handshake on it. Gretchen, are you sure? It means living on the premises.”
“Yeah, but I’ve seen the outside of the house. It’s huge.”
“What if it’s filled with coffins and decapitated doll heads inside?”
“Jeez, Kat. You been trolling through the horror fiction section lately? It’s a mansion. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s probably so big that I won’t see anyone ever. It’ll just be me and some dusty library. No big.”
Kat sighed gustily into the phone. “Well, as your friend, I think you’re crazy. As your agent, I just want to say thanks for the commission.”
“You’re welcome. I think. Now, can you call my Astronaut Bill editor and tell her I need an extension?”
Chapter 3
Gretchen stared up at the Buchanan Mansion from the window of the cab as it pulled up the driveway. “Holy doughnuts. This place is insane. I can’t believe I’m going to be living here for the next month.”
“I can’t believe it, either.” At
her side, her sister Audrey’s voice sounded prim and disapproving. “The money is good, but I still think you’re crazy for taking this job.”
Gretchen was pretty sure that made two of them. “It’s a pretty lucrative job, Audrey. And you didn’t have to come.”
Her sister gave a derisive snort. “Oh, yes I did. You haven’t met Buchanan. I have. He’s surly and unpleasant and that house is a mausoleum. It’s bad enough that you’re taking a job that forces you to live in someone else’s home. I don’t care if he’s Mr. Hawkings’s best friend—I’m not letting you shack up without checking out the place first. That’s so they know you have someone looking out for you. I don’t want to have you disappear for a month and then we’re calling the news and insisting that someone digs up the gardens looking for you.”
Gretchen rolled her eyes. “I’ll probably never see the man.”
Audrey just gave her a prim look. “Don’t argue with me. You know I’m the responsible one in this family.”
And because she couldn’t really refute that, Gretchen just grinned.
The car moved slowly down the winding drive and, as it did, they passed intricately clipped flowering bushes in fantastical shapes. Spirals, moons, and stars adorned the colorful fall gardens. “I don’t think they’d bury me in the backyard, Audrey. Did you see the landscaping? It probably costs more than we both make in a month.”
“If you need money,” Audrey began for the millionth time that day.
“It’s not just the money,” Gretchen said. “It’s an adventure. Haven’t you ever wanted to have an adventure?”
“Not if it involves living with a stranger, no.”
Spoilsport. It wasn’t as if she and the owner were going to get in their jammies and have pillow fights and cuddle up in the same bed or something. “Look at the size of this place. Odds are that I never see him.”
Buchanan Manor was as big as a shopping mall. Seriously. She tried counting windows at the front of the building, but there was too many. Pointed gabled roofs in a dark green decorated the roof, and the building itself was a pale shade. There were windows everywhere, looking out on the spectacular lawns. If she counted up, it looked like the building was four floors. Good God, how many rooms did one billionaire need? He could fit an entire school into this building.
The taxi pulled up to the cobblestone driveway and Audrey paid the cab driver as Gretchen got out of the car, Igor’s cat-carrier tucked under her arm. The cat meowed angrily, and she made a shushing noise even as she continued to stare up at the mansion.
She was wearing jeans and a sweater and felt hideously, conspicuously underdressed. And here this was one of her better outfits. Since she didn’t leave the house much, she normally spent her time in yoga pants. But this house made her think anything less than starchy collars and tweed jackets were underdressed. Gretchen swallowed hard as her suitcases were set down on the driveway. “This is uncomfortable.”
Audrey shouldered her small weekend bag and gave Gretchen an odd look. “Where’s all your bravery?”
“I didn’t realize I was going to be living at frickin’ Hogwarts! I—”
The massive wooden front door opened, and a tall, thin man with a bald head and long neck stepped out of the house. Both women fell silent and watched him descend. Gretchen looked at him with keen interest. He wore a small plaid bow tie and a tweed jacket with patches in the elbows. Fascinating. Was he the owner, then? Come to greet her? He didn’t look very friendly.
“Good afternoon,” the man said in a sonorous voice. “Which one of you is Ms. Gretchen Petty?”
She raised a hand. “Here.” She immediately lowered it, feeling like a tool. This wasn’t class. “I brought my sister for the weekend so she can see me settled. I hope that’s okay?”
He gave her a piercing stare, as if she’d displeased him greatly.
At her side, Audrey cleared her throat and stepped forward, iPad in hand. “My employer is Logan Hawkings, a friend of Mr. Buchanan’s. When I told Mr. Hawkings that we would be coming here for the weekend, he told me that he had cleared it with Mr. Buchanan and that it would not be a problem for me to tag along.” Audrey’s tone was direct, crisp, and absolutely business-like in the face of this man’s disapproval.
