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Nell returned his smile, wondering for about the twentieth time how the Manor made any money. She did her fair share of snooping after Mistress Freya got her to fill out that long-ass application, and the place was supposed to be super fucking fancy. Like, antique furniture, world-class dungeon, extravagant food, and expensive wine fancy. Plus, Rafe (her “host” apparently) would be with her almost 24/7 if she wanted. And she even got this free ride to and from the airport—a six-hour round trip in a Lexus for Christ’s sake.
Yet her stay only cost a little over two hundred dollars a night? Even if you didn’t count all the other expensive shit, that meant Rafe would be working for under ten bucks an hour. Something about this definitely didn’t add up.
A niggling little suspicion started to form in the back of her mind, but before she could solidify it into actual thought, great stone pillars appeared around a bend in the road. She sat up a little straighter, craning her neck to get a better view of the open wrought iron gates. What was this place, a fucking castle?
“Here we are.” The driver sounded downright cheerful as he turned on his blinker. Probably glad to finally get rid of her. She’d never been very good at small talk, so the guy had to be bored out of his mind. The sorry state of her luggage didn’t exactly imply she’d be a good tipper, either, though she intended to prove otherwise.
As they passed through the gates, Nell’s breath caught in her throat. “Goddamn,” she muttered, her eyes wide. It wasn’t a castle after all, though there were probably castles smaller than this place. The mansion was a pristine white, as if not a single speck of dirt ever dared to touch it. Three stories high, it had about half a million windows, each with black shutters and an old-fashioned crisscross pattern in the windowpanes. A huge farmer’s porch stretched across most of the front.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” the driver said as he wound his way down the long driveway.
She made a sound sort of like, “Chyeah,” as she turned in her seat, trying to take everything else in. A beautiful, perfectly mowed lawn stretched out from the house to the front gates, with a copse of pine trees off to one side. Beyond the lawn and house, dense forest surrounded them, all the intense oranges, reds, and yellows of the autumn leaves interspersed with the occasional deep green of more pines.
Yeah, no fucking way did this place cost under five hundred a night. Hell, for all she knew, it could be a thousand. If the situation got any fishier, it would reek like all those giant fish they tossed around at Pike Place in Seattle, where she grew up.
Had Mistress Freya secretly paid for the bulk of her stay? Or maybe her boss got her some sort of friend-of-a-friend pity discount; it was clear the Mistress and Rafe were close. At the end of the day, though, there was only one question that actually mattered.
Did she care?
Her pride said yes, but her libido was ready to bitch-slap her pride in the face.
“Alrighty then,” the driver said, pulling into a parking spot and turning off the car. “Here at last.” He hopped out as she started to open her own door, pulling it the rest of the way open for her.
Climbing out of the back seat, she stood beside her driver, whose name she seemed to have forgotten, though it definitely started with a D. Dane, maybe? Or Dean? They stood on either side of the door, staring up at the colossal house.
“Hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” Dane/Dean said, his voice gentle and kind, “but you don’t seem as excited as the other girls I drove up here. Everything okay?”
Warmth spread from the center of her chest, and she felt her lips curving up. After all the shit she went through with Micah, it felt good to have people looking out for her. If only she’d listened to the people looking out for her back then. “Yes, everything’s good,” she promised, looking Dane/Dean in the eyes so he could see she meant it.
“So long as you’re sure,” he said, his own eyes crinkling at the corners. “Because I’ll be driving right back through Manchester anyway. If you decide you’ve changed your mind, makes no difference to me if you’re in the car or not.”
Okay, Dane/Dean deserved an extra big tip. And for her to know his actual name. “Thank you. Really.” She put a hand on his upper arm, giving it a grateful squeeze. “I’m actually really excited to be here. I promise. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Then, doing her best to look sufficiently chagrined, she asked, “And I’m so sorry, but what was your name again?”
He seemed pleased to be asked, rather than insulted she hadn’t remembered. “Dale.”
Damn,soclose.
“Well, thank you, Dale. I really appreciate you looking out for me.” She reached into her little fake leather purse, pulling out her wallet. She’d stopped at an ATM in the Tampa airport, pretty much draining the last of her savings. The rest of her laptop money and most of her emergency fund already went to the Manor and Spirit Airlines, and that waswiththe pity discount.
Peeling off five twenties, she held them out to Dale. A hundred dollars was a good tip, right? Or maybe it wasn’t for such a long drive. She considered reaching back in for more when Dale held up his hands. “That won’t be necessary. The gratuity has already been taken care of.”
Of course it had. “Consider this a bonus, then,” she said, pushing the wad of cash into his hand, “for being awesome.”
Dale grinned as he slipped the bills into his pocket. When he removed his hand a moment later, he held a business card between two fingers. “You need a ride back to the airport before Saturday, you give me a call, okay? Anytime, day or night.”
She accepted the card, looking down at the cartoon picture of a uniformed driver leaning against the hood of a black car. “Thank you.” She put it in a side pocket of her purse, then gave Dale a final smile. “But you really don’t have to worry about me. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Looking forward to it.” Popping the trunk, he held up her duffle bag. “Help you inside with this?”
“Oh no, I’m fine.” Nell took the bag from him, slipping the strap over her shoulder. “Have a safe trip back.”
With a little salute, he climbed into his car. As he backed out of his parking spot and started down the long driveway, Nell pulled the business card out of her purse, wrapping her fingers around it. She wasn’t stranded here. If she hated it or she freaked the fuck out the second Rafe touched her...
But no, that wasn’t going to happen. For the thousandth time since that surprise meeting in her boss’s office a month ago, she reminded herself this was one of Mistress Freya’s mentees. One of the people she trusted most in the world.
Rafe wasn’t going to be Micah 2.0.
Please, God, don’t be like Micah. Don’t even look like him.
