Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“Better than dishes.” I grin, wiping my hands on my apron. “Just trying to earn my keep.”
Rob mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like idiot, but I ignore him as I walk past him and follow Mary.
The estate stretches for what seems like forever, with endless corridors of polished wood and chandeliers that glow as if lit from beneath. Every step echoes beneath my shoes, and the air smells faintly of lemon polish.
I tell myself that I’m not looking for her. That I’m here just to do the damn linens.
But when I turn the corner and see her—everything in me stills.
Victoria stands by a tall window, sunlight slipping through the sheer curtains, turning her hair to gold. She’s laughing. It’s soft, real, and unguarded. It fills me with a sensation I haven’t felt in years.
Warmth.
She turns her head slightly, and our eyes meet.
The world goes silent.
For a heartbeat, it’s just her and me.
Two unlikely friends caught in each other’s orbits, staring at the other like we’ve known each other for a lifetime. Her expression is curious and cautious, but there’s a spark there, too. A flicker that shouldn’t be there at all. Not for a man like me.
And then she smiles.
It’s small. Hesitant. But it hits harder than it should.
Knocking the wind right out of my lungs. Something about her makes my chest tighten, makes me suddenly aware of every wrong thing about this moment.
I don’t smile back. I can’t. Not with Mary so close.
More footsteps sound down the hallway, and with that, the spell is broken.
Rob again. Of course.
He strides past, surveying me, and leans in close so only I can hear him. “I told you,” he says under his breath. “Stay away.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
He drills me with a stare that says I’m not fooling anyone. “You’re looking. That’s enough.”
I clench my jaw. “You sound like her bodyguard.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
He grabs one end of the linens, forcing me to pick up the other. I follow him down the hall, though my eyes still linger back toward her.
Victoria raises a hand in a soft wave—half shy, half brave.
But I turn away before she can finish it.
Not out of pride. Out of survival.
I know that look in her eyes. The kind that can ruin a man like me.
A few minutes later, and no longer holding the linens, I make it back into the kitchen. Elise waits by the door, smirking. “So?” She crosses her arms. “Did you see her?”
“Briefly.”
“And?”
“She looked . . . normal.”
She barks out a laugh. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
I don’t answer. I just head back to the sink. To the new pile of dishes stacked on the counter. The water is still hot enough to sting. I let it run and watch as the suds swirl down the drain, trying not to think about the way she looked when I didn’t acknowledge her.
A tight feeling spreads in my chest.
I shouldn’t seek her out. And I certainly shouldn’t want her.
But the lie sits heavy on my chest.
And I can’t decide if that scares me or thrills me more.
5
Victoria
Time for dinner . . .
Great.
To me, this is the worst hour of my life.
It’s not that I hate my parents; it’s just that I can’t stand them. The constant judgment. Condescending tone, and the conversations they have . . .
How self-important can two people be?
That doesn’t matter, though, because they have summoned me, so that’s where I’ll be.
Once dressed, I head downstairs and take a seat.
Dinner is exactly what you’d expect from a family who puts more effort into optics than affection.
A table that seats twelve. Only four places are set.
Father at the head, Mother two seats down, and me across from no one. The symmetry is part of the performance. The silence, too.
All this bullshit makes me want to gag.
Why keep up the false pretense? No one cares. It doesn’t matter how hard we try to pretend. No one on the staff cares if we are just another dysfunctional, wealthy family who hates each other. Why do we have to go through all this trouble?
“Victoria, sit up straight,” my mother says gently, eyes flicking to my elbows.
I adjust my posture and resist the urge to mutter something about Victorian torture devices. Pretty sure that wouldn’t go over well.
Death or anything controversial like that is not a “proper” subject for the table.
Father clears his throat. “Tell me about the new staff.”
My mother sits up, perfecting her posture. She’s not used to Father making conversation. She’s practically starved for attention, so this is her moment to shine. “I’ve hired on new summer staff. With all the entertaining we have planned, I thought it would be best to bring on a few more people to help around the house. Angela will be working in the kitchen. Her son will assist.”