Chapter 3 #2
Aria nodded, studying me. “She leaves in a few days.”
“I’m sure you’ll miss her.”
She smirked like she knew I knew better. “I’m sure I will.”
“I should have brought more madeleines for Mrs. Howard too.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Aria tapped the top of the box of mini cakes.
“I’m hiding them from my mother so she doesn’t give me another lecture on how to maintain my Italian curves.
” She mimicked the Italian accent as she said, “They should be sleek like a Ferrari, Aria, not jiggly like a panna cotta.”
I winced. “Sorry.”
Aria waved off my sympathy. “I’m used to it. And she’ll be gone soon and I can return to eating without wondering if she’s watching and judging.”
An awkward silence fell between us, so I cleared my throat. “How is she?”
She knew I didn’t mean Chiara. Aria’s expression softened. “She’s doing really great. You haven’t heard from her?”
I nodded. “She texts. I just … sometimes people tell you they’re okay because they don’t want you to worry.”
“She’s more than okay,” Aria assured me.
“Are you okay? Here, I mean?” The question had been bubbling in my mind for months and burst forth without thought. Though I didn’t know Aria well, I was beyond grateful to her. She treated the staff fairly, and despite her reserve, there was kindness in her.
If she was surprised by my question, she didn’t show it. “You’re either someone who thrives in a place like LA or it drowns you. My mother thrives there. I’m thriving here. Are you?”
I smiled. “I really am.”
“Good.” Aria nodded and then glanced at her phone. “I have a meeting. Thank you again for the madeleines.”
Dismissed, I let myself out of her office and almost ran straight into Walker.
Before I could remember my annoyance, his familiar cologne wafted over me, making me weak at the knees.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that delicious combination of citrus and sandalwood that made me weak at the knees. It was the man wearing it.
I cursed Walker Ironside for making me so hyperaware of him. It would have been really nice to feel this physically attracted to someone who actually noticed me back and didn’t go around telling people I was poor.
“Sloane.” He blocked my way, scowling down at me. “About earlier—”
I pasted on a big fake smile and pushed open Aria’s door so she could see and hear us. “Going in?”
“Ah, Walker, there you are. Come in,” Aria called.
He narrowed his eyes at me as I moved out of his way. “We’ll talk.”
It sounded like a threat.
“Yeah, I’d like to know when I can get my car back,” I said over my shoulder as I strutted away.
When Callie and I first arrived in the Highlands, Aria had gone above and beyond by having a car pick up Callie from school and bring her to the estate.
She’d wait for me in the staff room, doing her homework, until my shift was over and then we’d walk to our lodge on Loch Ardnoch.
There was a high turnover of staff on the estate, but only because they hired seasonally.
For instance, students could work for the entire summer and stay in the staff accommodation on the loch before returning to school.
The lodges were great for them, but they were a temporary solution for us.
When Brodan’s sister, Arrochar, and her husband, Mackennon Galbraith, offered their rental cottage in the village, I’d jumped on it.
Being a single mom was the hardest and greatest thing I’d ever done.
But I don’t know how I would have juggled parenting and being a mother if it hadn’t been for the kindness of other people.
For her safety, I’d never been able to tell Juanita where Callie and I disappeared to.
But I’d let her know we were okay. I was grateful for what she’d done for us and for what Monroe and the Adair family were doing for us.
Gratitude didn’t scare me. The opposite, in fact.
I felt nothing but sad for ungrateful people.
Gratitude was its own kind of joy, and I pitied those who couldn’t see that.
I was thinking about this, about why I was so mad at Walker when he was only trying to help.
Where was my gratitude? Maybe it was because I was attracted to him?
Or maybe it was because I finally felt like I was doing right by Callie.
That I wasn’t failing her. Walker knowing that the classes were a strain for me, knowing that I couldn’t afford the repairs on my crappy car, felt like a slide backward.
As the working day wore on, the guiltier I felt for being cold to him when all he’d tried to do was offer help.
I was stewing over my remorse as I pushed the laundry cart toward the elevator at the end of the second floor. I still felt iffy about getting on the elevator, but I needed to use it every day, so I couldn’t avoid it and let my fear win.
My shift was over. I just needed to deliver the dirty sheets to the laundry service and I could clock out.
Except for my cool encounters with Walker, it had been an unusually juicy kind of day on the estate.
I’d changed the sheets of an actor who had arrived alone but was definitely getting it on with someone here who liked to celebrate his release on her sheets.
I’d spotted false teeth in a tray in the bathroom of an actor that surprised the heck out of me, and I’d accidentally walked in on a director screwing an actor who was most definitely not his husband.
Yet I was the utter definition of discretion.
I didn’t even text Monroe, someone I trusted, to share my gossip.
Having been the butt of celebrity gossip since falling pregnant with Brodan’s child, and then marrying the retired actor, Monroe wasn’t interested in knowing people’s business.
That suited me fine. I didn’t need to share what I knew about people, especially if I thought it could hurt them.
Also, I’d signed an NDA when I took the job.
As I passed the staircase, I noticed movement out of my peripheral.
Glancing toward the stairs, I caught sight of Byron Hoffman climbing the last step onto the landing.
I’d pushed yesterday’s encounter with him to the back of my mind, preoccupied with other disasters.
But at the sight of him, I stiffened, my skin flushing hot with tension.
I nodded a polite hello and kept walking toward the elevator, picking up my pace.
“Excuse me, miss.”
Ah, crap.
I halted and looked back at the actor. My father had represented a lot of famous clients, and he’d thrown parties for them at our house. Famous people didn’t faze me, which was one reason Aria was happy to hire me. But men like him, who thought they could own everything, made my skin crawl.
“May I help you with something, Mr. Hoffman?”
He smirked, gaze dipping down my body and back up again. “Please, call me Byron.”
I didn’t respond because it would be inappropriate of me to call him by his first name and I didn’t want to encourage him. Yesterday was so far beyond inappropriate, it wasn’t funny.
Maybe I should’ve told Mrs. Hutchinson, after all. Maybe I still should.
Hoffman sighed heavily. “Very well. I know your name now, though. Sloane.”
I stiffened. “Has something been amiss with your room, Mr. Hoffman?”
“Not at all.” He waved his hand and took a step toward me. “Would you mind leaving me an extra little chocolate on the pillow tonight at turndown?”
“I don’t do the turndown service, but I will pass along the request.”
“So, you’re the one who cleans my room and has it looking spotless for me when I return to it in the afternoon?”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes gleamed. “Well, you do an excellent job. What time do you clean my room? Just so I know when to skedaddle.”
I hesitated, the equivalent of warning bells going off in my ears. “Uh … Thank you. I usually get to your room after noon.”
“Precise timing, please, sweetheart?” Despite the please, there was a hard bite to his words.
“Around two o’clock. Good evening, Mr. Hoffman.
” I dismissed him when I probably should have waited for him to dismiss me, but I wanted to get as far away from him as possible.
Hurrying toward the service elevator, I hit the button and, thankfully, the doors pinged open right away.
I got in with the cart and turned to hit the button for the ground floor.
Byron Hoffman still stood there, watching me.
A knot formed in my stomach as the doors closed. His question bothered me. Why did he want to know the exact time I cleaned his room?
So he could skedaddle.
Was it really, though? Maybe he wanted to trap me between him and my cart again.
Or was I being paranoid?
The elevator doors opened and I finished my shift in a daze. I couldn’t shrug off the feeling of unease.
“Sloane.” A heavy hand landed on my shoulder as I stood at my locker, and I squawked in fright.
It felt like my heart had leapt into my throat as I turned to face the intruder.
Walker stood before me, a deep frown pinching his brows. “I said your name four times and you didn’t respond. You okay?”
Trying to catch my breath, I pressed a hand to my chest and nodded. “Sorry. I was …” I shrugged. Then I remembered my earlier confrontation with Walker. “Hey, about earlier—”
He lifted a hand to halt me. “Who do you think I’ve been talking to?”
“Monroe mentioned you told Brodan about Callie’s tae kwon do classes. But I know you never meant anything by it. I’m just having a crappy few days, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Walker continued to frown. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like a charity case. That was not my intention. That’s not how I see you.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask how he did see me, but Walker bent his head to study my face more intently.
“What’s going on? Why are you so jumpy?”
“You startled me, that’s why,” I replied with a nervous laugh as I turned to lock my locker. Grabbing my purse off the bench in the middle of the room, I didn’t meet his eyes.
“No, you were lost in your head about something, and you look …”
“I look?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.” I tried to shrug off my worries about Hoffman. “When do you think I’ll get my car back?”
Walker kept peering at me as if he could see right through me. “I’ll keep you posted.”
I huffed out a shaky laugh. “Shouldn’t I know what’s going on with my car?”
“Aye, and it’s in the garage being looked at. I’ll keep you posted. Now tell—”
“Great, fine.” With a fake smile, I cut him off. “I have to go pick up Callie from Regan and Thane’s.” I moved to brush past without looking at him and was shocked when he wrapped a hand around my biceps to stop me. “Walker?”
He scowled at me. “Something’s wrong.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Sloane.” Warning spiced his tone, even as he released my arm.
Glancing around to make sure we were alone before responding, I lowered my voice. “It’s really nothing. I-I get a bad feeling around one of the members. It’s nothing.”
Walker gave a small nod but insisted, “Who is it?”
“Walker—”
“I won’t tell anyone who it is.”
Trusting Walker at his word, I shrugged. “Byron Hoffman.”
His aquamarine eyes hardened. “Explain this bad feeling.”
Hadn’t I already decided I should tell someone what Hoffman did? Maybe it wouldn’t be completely stupid to have at least one person know about it. “Yesterday, he came up behind me while I was at my cart and trapped me against it.”
Walker’s nostrils flared as he straightened to his full height.
“Nothing happened,” I assured him. “Two members showed up and he let me go.”
“Why didn’t you report it?” he growled.
Indignation flared through me. “Report what, Walker? A powerful and well-connected club member came up behind me and touched my hips before letting me go. Not exactly reportable stuff.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“I know nuance means nothing to these people.”
Walker bit out, “Has he done anything else?”
I shrugged. “I bumped into him at the end of today’s shift.
He knows my name. And he wanted to know what time I clean his room because he wanted to make sure he wasn’t in it when I do, but he’s never asked the last few weeks, so why now?
” I sighed. “Am I being paranoid? As if a member would give a damn about my comings and goings, beyond how it affects them?”
Walker responded sternly, “Always listen to your gut. If you have problems with Hoffman going forward, I want to know. I’m not just here to protect them.”
Warmth filled my chest that he hadn’t dismissed my feelings. “Thanks, Walker. For everything.” I gave him a little wave and left to go collect Callie. There was nothing like my daughter’s “happy to see you” smile to shrug off the strange disquiet the day had brought.