Chapter 19
19
ADAM
I t’s nearly midnight one night about two weeks after the storm when I give up tossing and turning and steal down to the kitchen for something to eat. The house is quiet and still, but there’s light spilling from beneath the kitchen door.
Meredith is sitting at the table, nursing a cup of tea in her pink dressing gown, scrolling through something on her tablet.
“Don’t tell me that’s work,” I say as I enter.
She smiles wanly and gives me the briefest glance. “Is he on your mind again?”
My heart stutters. How the hell could she possibly know?
Oh. She means Lloyd.
It wouldn’t be the first time I was up late pining over him, over what could have been. What would she think if she knew the truth? That in reality it’s our employee who I can’t get out of my head?
At first I watched him purely out of concern for the children. At some point, that changed. At some point I started to enjoy seeing his bright outfits and quick smile as he patiently explained complex concepts, or how flustered he got when he was challenged. I started to look forward to seeing him with them in the kitchen, when he’d inevitably get flour on his nose or icing on his cheek. I started to be disappointed when he took them outside—not because it wasn’t a lesson, but because it was a lesson I wasn’t privy to, wasn’t part of. At some point, he became the background to my days.
Not healthy. On any level.
And for the past two weeks, it’s only gotten worse. He’s no longer just the background to my days, but to my nights too. When I’m alone in my room, my mind strays in frankly filthy directions. I’m driven to distraction by everything about this man.
Maybe I should hook up with Geoff again. Get it out of my system. Just yesterday he cornered me in the gym, promising hours of amazing sex.
“It will be good,” he’d assured me. “Just like old times.”
Old times when I’d been willing to do nearly anything just to feel something other than grief and guilt. Those times we’d fumbled together and fucked and then I’d pushed him out of my bed and ordered him to get lost. And sometimes he’d leave and sometimes he’d lecture me about getting over my grief. All those times, as soon as I was alone, I’d hated myself.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Meredith offers me another tight smile in response to my silence and I’m brought back to the present.
“I have things on my mind,” I acknowledge. “Why are you up?”
“I have things on my mind,” she throws back at me.
“Such as?”
“Oh, we’re sharing now, are we?”
I snort and go dig in the fridge for leftovers. When I eventually take the seat opposite her, with a plate of cold chicken, she pushes the iPad across to me. “Finances.”
My stomach sinks, but I accept the tablet and look at the display. “I regret asking.”
“Situation certainly isn’t good.”
That’s putting it mildly. The running costs of this whole venture were worked out based on the assumption that we’d be getting in regular donations and that we could make a much bigger splash about it in the press and sell story rights or sponsorship deals or whatever else Geoff had up his sleeve. But with the pandemic, people have enough to worry about. The charities that we support are struggling more than usual. Then there were the unexpected legal costs of getting the kids over here. Our expenses have increased in every area, and our income has dropped to zero. I’ve been keeping us going out of pocket, but I haven’t worked in a decade, so the pockets certainly aren’t as deep as they used to be.
“I’ve been moving the numbers around and I think the best option is if I take a salary cut,” Meredith says.
“No. I won’t do that to you.”
“My living expenses are nothing while I’m here?—”
“You’re working while you’re here. I’m going to pay you.”
“We’re going to need some way to get in money, Beast.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
She sighs. “The other option is we return to New York?—”
“Have you seen the infection rate in New York?”
Meredith rubs at her eyes. “Dare I raise the topic of the teacher?”
“I’ll figure something out,” I repeat.
New York isn’t a bad idea. Not returning there, but maybe selling my place there. I really don’t need to maintain multiple homes. It’s excessive. Especially if the foundation needs the cash.
“Well there is some good news,” Meredith says with a wan smile. “They’ve started human trials of a vaccine at Oxford, did you hear?”
I hadn’t heard. “That means maybe we can— I mean we’ll certainly be able to host the event in August?”
Her expression is still dubious. We lapse into silence. I finish eating and rinse off my plate. Meredith is focused on her iPad again, so I wish her goodnight and leave her be.
As I reach the entrance hall and look up towards the bedrooms, my heart leaps into my throat. There’s a blond man at the top of the stairs. Lily-Iris’s ghost stories fly through my mind before I register that it’s Belle. He seems similarly startled by my sudden appearance.
I hold up my hands, unsure how much he can see in the shadows. “Not a ghost, merely a beast.”
He laughs softly, the sound carrying in the empty hall, and starts down the stairs again. “How did you know that’s what I thought?”
“Lucky guess.”
He comes level with me. In the moonlight, his pale skin is luminescent. He’s not wearing his specs and without them he looks soft and vulnerable.
“Do you make a habit of roaming the halls in the middle of the night frightening your staff?” Belle asks. “Because that could explain some things I’ve heard.”
“Ah, the ghost stories.”
He drops his gaze to his feet. “I tried to reassure Mal that there’s no truth to them.”
“What’s keeping you up?” I ask, changing the subject from my husband’s ghost.
He chews on his bottom lip. “Just restless. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because it’s not raining and the windows aren’t rattling. I’m not used to the quiet anymore.” He smiles. “You?”
With effort, I drag my eyes from his mouth to meet his gaze. “I’m glad I ran into you actually,” I dodge his question. “I had an idea I wanted to pitch to you.”
His smile broadens. “I’m all ears.”
“Well, May Day’s coming up. Spring Day. I thought, well, since we missed Easter, maybe we could make a day of it? With the children? Go exploring the woods, have a picnic? Weather permitting of course.”
Now he’s positively grinning and my belly flips. “That’s a wonderful idea! Yes. Yes, let’s do that. It will be an excellent chance for you to bond with them.”
“Good. All right then.”
“All right. Yes. Good.”
There’s a beat of silence and I struggle to find some way to fill it, some way to keep him there longer.
“Well, goodnight,” he says.
“Goodnight Belle. Don’t let the ghosts and beasties get you.”
As I pass him, my nostrils flood with the scent of lilies and vanilla.
“You mean besides you?” he says softly.
I push away the flood of images of ways I’d like to get him and don’t look back as he wishes me good night.