8. What are you doing in my house?
EIGHT
WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?
Lake
007
Zero hours of sleep last night
Zero chance Alessio will let me stay when he finds out I put Kahlúa in my blueberry oatmeal at six o’clock this morning because I needed something other than marijuana to calm my nerves. A Kahlúa shooter isn’t much for most people, but my low tolerance for alcohol makes me all warm inside.
Or so I tell myself.
And I can tell that to myself because Alessio hasn’t come downstairs after waking up at dawn and working out for two hours.
I spied on him and cracked the secret of how he maintains his physique. I’ll take that to the sadist in case he wants to improve his body sometime.
Oh, and the seven from 007 is that it’s been seven days since the sadist made contact and told me I need to deliver something useful by tomorrow morning or else. It’ll have to be “else” unless I remain in the house and find something he considers useful. Which I have yet to find.
This is a typical wealthy household. Val shops and bakes. The staff works around the house. I teach Leo geography and history in English, and we write stories about space cruisers.
That’s it.
Since there’s no chance I’ll stay here after Alessio recognizes me this morning, the sadist will execute me tomorrow on the beach. Do you see why I put Kahlúa in my oatmeal? Do you? Wait, do I need more Kahlúa? I purse my lips, wondering how I’ll sneak into the liquor cabinet in the middle of the workday, when I hear a man’s shoes tap the marble.
Alessio rounds the corner and enters the kitchen, not looking up from the tablet he’s reading as he sits down at the kitchen island.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Good morning,” Leo and I say in unison from our spot at the breakfast nook that faces the ocean. We can see Alessio’s left profile.
Universe, please summon Val into the kitchen.
Val walks in.
I gasp.
The Universe delivers!
Val’s wearing a beach hat, a two-piece bathing suit that shows off her beautiful big pregnant belly, and bare feet. She goes straight to her brother and kisses him on the cheek. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Three hours.”
“Alessio,” she groans. She rounds the bar, then smiles at me in lieu of saying good morning.
Leo’s finishing up his breakfast, but he’s a slow eater, and I feel crappy for wanting him to hurry the fuck up so I can avoid Alessio and extend my stay.
Maybe Alessio won’t notice me all day. He appears completely uninterested.
Universe, do you think we can keep it that way for the next few months until I deliver something useful for the criminals? If yes, give me a sign.
“Leo’s English has improved,” Alessio says but doesn’t look up from his tablet.
Is Alessio speaking my sign from the Universe? Is it a Get out while you can sign? Honestly, signs shouldn’t be this hard to read.
Val serves her brother an espresso and winks at me. “Our new governess is to thank for that.”
I hope he’ll keep reading from his tablet, but something he read must have displeased him, because he shakes his head and mumbles in Italian.
“I’m curious, Valerina, why I found Ms. Wilder here last night around midnight. It’s a little late for studies, don’t you think?”
Val swallows, then puts her palms flat on the kitchen island as if bracing herself.
Alessio looks up from the tablet. Their eyes meet and hold. Hoooold. Uh-oh. Is she challenging him?
Val looks at me.
Girlfriend, don’t even look at me! I won’t survive Alessio’s version of the Spanish Inquisition. I’m the witch heretic he’ll burn.
I shake my head and hope she can read on my face how terrified I am of her brother, even though the man has done nothing to me. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. He’s made me come multiple times. If anything, he’s done nice things to me.
I’m trying not to think about those things.
Really, I am. It’s just that my vagina is not as forgetful as I’d like her to be.
“The governess was here at midnight because she lives with us,” Val says. “I hired her as a live-in.”
Alessio puts down his tablet. “You never mentioned that tiny important detail.”
Val shrugs. “I didn’t think it was that important. It’s not like we’ve never had people living with us before.”
“She was different.”
Who? Who is she ? Jealousy burns a hole in my belly. Oh God, I’m a terrified green-eyed monster witch. Definitely burning.
“Lake came to the island on our digital nomad employment visa. She was mugged on our streets, her passport stolen. When she applied for a job, she was honest enough to tell me she needed a place to stay. The guest house was vacant. It made sense.”
“Only to you,” he says calmly.
Val shakes her head disapprovingly. “You won’t let Leo go to school, but you want him to receive a top-notch education and speak five languages by the time he’s nine. This is how it will happen, brother. A live-in governess.”
“She’s a journalist, Val,” he says.
“A travel blogger at best,” Val corrects him.
Suddenly, a detrimental urge to defend my journalistic skills comes over me. But I’m too terrified to argue with Alessio, so my fear of conflict saves my life. Yet again. A travel blogger is less threatening than a journalist.
“There are other ways Leo can receive the education I wish him to have.” Alessio stands from the bar chair and finishes his espresso. “Ms. Wilder,” he says in a voice that makes me stand up. I’ve never enlisted, but I imagine this is how boot camp works. He’s the sergeant, and he looks at me.
Finally looks at me. Blinks. His jaw slackens slightly, his mouth opening as if it might hit the floor.
He recognized me. Yup. Yes, he did.
Here we go. Mentally, I buckle up.
“What?” Val asks. “What’s going on? Do you know her?”
“Ms. Wilder.” He says my name as if caressing my nipples with his thumbs.
My name from his lips feels like he dropped a kiss between my legs. Heat crawls up my cheeks. I am so embarrassed by how quickly he can make me remember the things he did to me in the bar and in the hotel room. I’ve never had a man fuck me like that before. Never. I need to try to forget about it.
Alessio points down the hallway as if I’m his hunting dog. “My office.”
I glance at Val, whose cheeks are getting rosier.
“What is it?” she asks.
“I know this woman.” He glares at me. “Did you hear what I said?”
Leo’s watching, so I smile at him, reassuring him that everything is okay, even though the boy can clearly sense that something isn’t.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell him.
He looks away.
“Now,” Alessio snaps.
I scurry past him and enter Alessio’s office. I should probably sit, but I can’t. I’ve run this very scenario through my head a million times so that when it happens, I’m prepared to not only defend myself, but also persuade him to let me stay. Now that it’s happening, now that Alessio’s footsteps are closing the distance between the kitchen and the office, my brain goes vacant.
Zero thoughts. Double-zero thoughts. I’ll burn seven ways from Sunday.
Alessio walks into the office and closes the door behind him. He approaches the windows and draws down the blinds, then crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against his desk.
“What are you doing in my house?”