Chapter 005 Lyra
If I thought the office building was fancy, this house was on a whole different planet. Mansion, really. I’d babysat for some well-off families back in Cheerful, but this was wealth with a capital W. I probably should’ve googled Cillian Eve before showing up, but I didn’t, and now here I was, rolling up in my beat-up truck like I belonged. My brothers would lose their minds if they knew the details. Good thing small-town gossip travels fast only when someone feeds it.
“I could get lost in this place,” I said as we stepped into the foyer. Marble floors, ceilings so high my voice echoed, chandeliers that probably cost more than my truck.
“I did once,” Elara said, skipping beside me.
I snorted. “Of course you did.”
“I’ll have to Hansel and Gretel my way around,” I told her, grinning.
Niles cleared his throat behind us. “I would rather you didn’t leave trails of food behind you, Miss Galloway.”
He’d already corrected me twice—he was the house manager, not a butler. Tomato, tomahto.
“You know what would be crazy fun in this house?” I asked Elara while Niles marched us down yet another hallway wide enough for a parade. Or three Cillians standing shoulder to shoulder.
“What?”
“Hide and seek.” Her whole face lit up like I’d handed her a puppy.
“That would be fun,” she breathed.
Niles looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.
“This is Miss Elara’s bedroom,” he announced, stopping at a set of double doors.
Elara shoved them open and bounced inside. I followed and almost whistled. The room was enormous—fireplace, four-poster bed big enough for a sleepover, and a bathroom door that revealed a tub you really could swim in.
“You can swim in my tub,” Elara informed me proudly.
“The pool will open in April,” Niles said, as if bathtub swimming was a regular problem around here.
“There’s a pool?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Heated. It can open earlier if desired.”
I didn’t see myself still being here come spring, but I kept that to myself. Cillian had been pretty stiff during the interview. I wasn’t counting on a long-term gig.
I scanned Elara’s room again. It felt more like a guest suite for a visiting queen than a ten-year-old’s bedroom. Maybe he’d let us add some color, some stuffed animals, something to make it feel like hers. That could be a fun project.
“Shall I show you to your room, Miss Galloway?”
“Lyra,” I corrected for the third time. “And yes, please.”
“This way. Chef Carl has prepared a snack for you downstairs, Miss Elara. Dinner won’t be for a few hours.”
Elara grabbed a book off her nightstand. “Okay.”
“I’ll find you in a bit,” I told her. “Unless I actually get lost.”
She giggled—bright, real—and the sound warmed me straight through. She’d been through hell this past month. Hearing her laugh felt like the first win of the day.
Niles led me across the house to the opposite wing. “You must rack up the steps working here,” I said, tapping my watch.
He only nodded.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to stay closer to Elara?” I asked, thumbing back toward her wing.
“Your room selection has already been made. If you have concerns, you’ll need to take them up with Mr. Eve.”
“Okie-dokie.” Yeah, no. I wasn’t poking that bear today.
We reached the end of the hall. Double doors loomed at the very end—definitely the primary bedroom vibe—but Niles stopped one door short and opened it for me.
I stepped inside. The room was gorgeous, don’t get me wrong—bigger than any place I’d ever slept—but my trash bags and lone sad duffel sat in the middle of the pristine carpet like evidence at a crime scene.
“I’ll leave you to unpack,” Niles said. “Dinner is at seven.”
I wasn’t sure if that meant eating with the family or grabbing a plate in the kitchen, but I didn’t ask. “Thank you.”
“Oh—Mr. Eve mentioned the possibility of uniforms. I’ll have options brought up when they arrive.”
My stomach dropped. Uniforms. Because my sequined snowman sweater had been that offensive.
He closed the door softly. My polite smile collapsed the second it clicked shut.
I took a slow breath, trying to shake off the sting. Then I poked around. Decent closet, small but fancy bathroom. Something felt off, though. The room seemed… unfinished.
“Oh.” I spotted the doorway I’d missed. No door, just an open arch.
I walked through and stopped dead.
Holy crap.
This wasn’t a bedroom. This was a palace. King bed, sitting area, another fireplace, and a bathroom with a tub I could actually do laps in. I glanced back at the smaller room, then at this one again.
Wait.
This setup was classic rich-people nursery connected to the primary suite. I’d read about them in magazines. Which meant the smaller room was supposed to be the nursery, and this monster was… Cillian’s.
But Niles had shown me the smaller one. Niles didn’t seem like the type to mess up.
I looked at my pathetic trash bags again. Decision made.
I hauled everything into the big room. If Niles had made a mistake, I wasn’t about to correct him in the wrong direction.
I wasn’t ready to unpack yet—too overwhelmed—so I dug through a bag for something less festive than my snowman sweater. Wide-leg black pants, white turtleneck. Boring, safe. Probably more Mr. Eve’s speed.
I peeled off the sweater, then my jeans, standing there in just my bra and underwear while I shook out the clean clothes.
One of the double doors to the hallway swung open.
Cillian strode in like he owned the place—which, okay, he did.
I yelped, a short, mortified sound. His eyes snapped to me and traveled slowly—deliberately—from my face all the way down and back up again.
Heat flooded every inch of my skin. I clutched the turtleneck and pants to my chest like a shield, heart hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it.
I was so getting fired.