Chapter 18
Eighteen
Brittney
Okay, so size does not matter, apparently. The interior of the home is staggering. The floorplan was obviously built around the view, with sweeping windows everywhere, showcasing the ocean below. The furniture, the paintings, the amenities, everything is high-end, sparkling, spotless, gorgeous. And priceless, I imagine.
“Well, that’s the tour,” Sabine mocks as we close the front door behind us.
I laugh loudly. Feels good to laugh.
Sabine chuckles. “It’s small, but nice. You’ll get used to it.”
She takes me through the living room, the kitchen, and shows me the back patio and garden. Again, I find myself awestruck at the view.
Once back inside, Sabine gestures to two rooms at one end of the hall, both doors closed. I can hear a pair of deep male voices coming out of one.
“Mr. Stone’s office is there, and that’s the guest bedroom, where I stay.”
She turns toward the opposite end of the hall. The sunlight doesn’t reach this end. The door to this room is larger than the others, and is also closed.
“That’s the master bedroom, where Val—I mean Mrs. Stone—stays. I believe when Jackie has stayed overnight before, she stays in there with her, and they always keep the door shut.”
“She stays in there with her?”
I notice Sabine’s demeanor has changed. Once warm and welcoming, she’s now serious.
She nods, watching me closely.
“So, I’m going to sleep in there?”
“I believe so. There’s a loveseat next to the bay window that pulls into a bed.”
My eyes round. I did not expect to sleep next to the woman I’ve been hired to care for.
Suck it up, Brittney. You can do this. You have to do this.
Sabine clears her throat. “So, uh, yeah, Jackie’s in there. So,” she gestures to the closed door— go ahead.
She’s not going to walk me into the room? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s the maid. But I did expect to meet Mr. Stone upon my arrival.
I’ve been here ten minutes and it seems like nothing is as I’d expected. This makes me uneasy. I don’t like surprises.
“Okay. . . . Thanks.”
On a deep breath, I banish my nerves, and walk to the closed door at the end of the hall.
I knock, and while waiting, look over my shoulder.
Sabine is watching me from the exact spot she left me. Her expression is hard and apprehensive, and she’s wringing her hands. It’s like she doesn’t want to get any closer to the room.
Why, I wonder?
. . . And why do I have such a weird feeling right now?