Chapter 3
Three
SLOANE
Walker texted me later that night to tell me a Hyundai would be in my parking spot behind the cottage come morning, and he’d posted the keys through our letter box. He told me not to worry about insurance because I was covered. How he got my details to insure me, I’d rather not know.
And sure enough, there it was. When I asked him about my car, he said the mechanics were looking at it and he’d get back to me. When I asked how much I owed him, he said nothing.
Part of me wanted to seethe with misdirected anger and hurt pride.
But I didn’t have time for that. I had to drop Callie off at school and get to work.
Callie had a ton of questions about the new car, none of which I could answer, except that Walker had left it for us.
I could only assume the car was one of his and he’d added me as a secondary driver to his insurance while he loaned it to us.
I refused to question that supposition or the fact that Walker probably didn’t need a second car when he drove a Range Rover.
I also would not admit to myself how much I enjoyed driving the newer-model SUV.
Instead, I focused on getting my kid to school.
Callie had assured me that her new teacher, Mrs. Hunter, seemed okay.
She wasn’t Monroe, but she wasn’t as strict as rumor had implied.
Mostly, Callie was excited to tell Lewis that she’d be attending tae kwon do classes with him.
I had given it the go-ahead. My hair would have to suffer the consequences.
And I’d need to increase the cake orders I fulfilled per month.
I’d left Callie with Lewis in the lineup outside the school, told Regan I’d get the money to her for the first class, and hopped back into the pretty blue SUV.
My phone rang through the car as I drove away.
Monroe’s name lit up the cool screen in the middle of the dashboard.
I hit the Answer Call button on the steering wheel, telling myself not to get used to the car and its modern stellar ways.
“Hey!” I answered brightly because we hadn’t talked in a few days. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m fifty months pregnant,” Monroe grumbled in her cute Scottish accent. “Otherwise all right.”
I chuckled, remembering that feeling. “That means you’re getting close.”
“Eight months. I don’t know where those weeks went, but I can feel them,” she joked. “In all seriousness, I’m fine. Missing the kids. How was Callie’s first day?”
I told her about her new teacher.
“Ellen Hunter gets a bad rap. It’s unfair. She’s a good teacher. She’s just a wee bit less warm and fuzzy than I am.”
Grinning, I nodded as I followed the long stretch of road toward Ardnoch Estate. “Well, my kid misses you, that’s for sure.”
“I miss her too. I know you’ll be busy baking this weekend, but I thought I’d pop round for a visit.”
“Of course, we’d love that.”
We talked a little more about her pregnancy and then as I approached the staff entrance to show the security guards my ID, Monroe said, “So, Walker told Brodan that Callie wants to attend tae kwon do classes in Inverness.”
I reached out of my car window and flashed my ID. The security guard, Jamie, tapped it and smiled at me. “New car, Sloane?”
Between Monroe’s words and the reminder of my fancy borrowed car, I pasted on a smile to cover a frown. “Just a loan.”
“A loan for Sloane,” he teased. “It suits you.”
“Thanks.”
“Go on in.” He waved at his companion at the guard station, and the gates swung open.
“Sloane?” Monroe asked.
“Hey, yeah, sorry, I’m at the estate gates.”
“So, tae kwon do?”
“Yeah,” I answered, holding back my annoyance with Walker for telling people my business. “I think it’s a great idea.”
“It is,” Roe agreed. “You know what’s also a great idea … to let Walker sponsor her. I don’t know if you know this about Walker, but he’s very protective of women. He’d love to see Callie learn self-defense and, as a martial artist, he’d make a great mentor and sponsor.”
Since I knew Monroe wanted only to help ease my financial stress, I didn’t snap at her. I’d accepted her help with the cottage because I was still paying rent and thus felt like I was paying my own way.
But accepting money from Walker for my daughter … no. The last time I’d forsaken my pride to get money from a guy to help raise Callie, it blew up in my face.
“I can handle it myself,” I assured Monroe lightly. “We’re all good.”
“Are you sure, because Walker mentioned your car—”
“Roe, I’m late for work,” I cut her off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. Can we talk later?”
“Of course.” She sounded unsure. “Call me?”
I promised her I would, but hung up feeling awful. Monroe had sounded worried, and I knew she was probably kicking herself for mentioning Walker. I’d have to reassure her we were okay.
Unfortunately for Walker, he was one of the first people I saw as I hurried in through the staff entrance. He stood talking with Jock McRory, head of security.
At my appearance, Walker turned that intense gaze on me. I held it as I strode toward him. But instead of stopping, I skirted him and Jock and said coolly as I passed, “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop telling people I can’t afford to give my kid the things she wants.”
His chin jerked in surprise, his eyes flaring, but I turned away and marched toward the housekeeping staff room.
“Sloane,” Walker called after me, voice gruff, but I was already gone.
“I hope those are for me.”
At my boss’s teasing tone, I glanced up to see Mrs. Hutchinson staring at the Tupperware filled with madeleines.
Agnes Hutchinson was a woman of indeterminate age, but I knew from talking with her she had a grown son and daughter and a gaggle of grandkids.
There were laugh lines at her eyes and mouth, but otherwise, she had smooth skin most of the members here paid lots of money to maintain.
Her blue eyes were bright with amusement as our gazes met.
I fastened the three gold buttons on the left upper chest of my black tunic.
The housekeeping uniform at Ardnoch was simple and comfortable.
It was a black tunic and black pants. The short sleeves turned up at the ends to reveal a plaid (or tartan) fabric detail.
We could wear comfortable black shoes of our choosing, so I wore black sneakers.
My hair was up in a ponytail most days. It was not the sexiest look, but staff were seriously discouraged from becoming involved with the members, anyway, so we weren’t supposed to look sexy.
“They’re for Ms. Howard,” I told Mrs. Hutchinson before reaching into my locker to produce another Tupperware filled with small cupcakes. “These are for you and the rest of the team.”
“I swear my uniform no longer fits,” Mrs. Hutchinson commented with glee as she took the box. “Thank you, Sloane. I’ll put these in the staff room … after I pinch one for my wee morning tea.” She winked.
Determined to shrug off my anger with Walker, I chuckled as I tightened my ponytail.
My fellow employees had warned me that Mrs. Hutchinson was fair but stern.
However, she’d only ever been super warm to me.
“Do you mind if I drop these off”—I picked up the box of madeleines—“to Ms. Howard before I start my duties?”
“Be quick about it.” She glanced at her watch. “Ms. Howard has a meeting in fifteen minutes.”
The woman’s knowledge of everyone’s schedule was practically occult.
I nodded and hurried out of the room.
Aria Howard was the daughter of Hollywood director and Ardnoch Estate board member Wesley Howard.
The family owned a large home on the estate, and that was where Aria was staying while she worked as the new hospitality manager.
She was pretty much running the place, giving Lachlan more time with his family.
I stopped outside her office and knocked lightly.
“Come in,” her familiar husky voice called.
Letting myself in, I smiled at her as I closed the door behind me.
Aria sat behind an intimidatingly large captain’s pedestal desk.
It even had a leather top. The office was like a smaller version of the estate library.
Wall-to-wall dark oak bookshelves, an impressive, open fireplace, two comfortable armchairs situated in front of the desk.
A floor-to-ceiling window adjacent to the desk let in light so it didn’t feel too dark.
Tiffany lamps aided in chasing off the gloom too.
Luxurious velvet curtains at the window pooled on the wooden floors, most of which were covered in expensive carpets.
Aria was a tall, attractively curvy brunette with a Mediterranean dark beauty bestowed upon her by an Italian mother.
Her mossy-green eyes were the only feature she’d inherited from her father.
Aria was brusquely efficient, with a no-nonsense attitude that made her excellent at her job.
However, I knew there was more to her than her aloof facade.
She gave me a small smile as I approached her desk and placed the box of madeleines, her favorites, before her.
She shook her head but reached for them with elegantly manicured hands.
Almost every one of her fingers was adorned with a barely there, delicate gold ring.
Her long, dark hair was curled to perfection, her makeup soft, immaculate, her dark suit tailored and expensive.
Even though I couldn’t see her bottom half, I knew she’d be wearing a pencil skirt that hugged her curves, and high heels I’d break an ankle in.
“I’ll have to hide these from my mother. ” Aria sighed. “But thank you.”
“Your mother’s still here?” I knew Mrs. Chiara Howard vacationed at Ardnoch every summer, but I’d thought she’d have gone home by now.
She’d insisted on meeting with me at the beginning of the summer.
She was an intimidating woman compared to her easy-going husband, but I owed this family, even if they didn’t think so.
I’d meet with them any time, any place, whenever they asked.