Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
EWAN
Icome in from feeding the animals on Sunday morning to find Daniel frowning at his phone instead of getting breakfast started. Damn it. I’m starving.
“What’s wrong? Did you lock yourself out again?”
He shakes his head, not looking up. “It’s this email from Josh.”
“What email?” I look at the clock. “And what’s he doing sending emails at six thirty on a Sunday? Did the guests keep him up all night?”
“I think he sent it late last night. Listen to this: ‘Apologies for the inconvenience, but I need everyone here for a senior staff meeting at nine on Monday. It’s not an emergency, but it is important and time sensitive. The ghosts have made me aware of something that needs our attention.’” He finally looks up.
“What do you think that could be about?”
I grab my phone from my back pocket and check my email.
I have the same one, and there’s no more detail.
I look at the clock again. It’s still early, but I need to clean up, eat, and be ready for the first demonstration in the smithy at eight thirty.
After that, I won’t have time for more than water breaks and a quick lunch until after Daniel and I get the animals settled tonight, and by then I’ll be too tired to traipse up to the house.
“Wanna beg breakfast at the house and see if we can corner Josh?” I ask.
“Yep. Who’s on duty in the kitchen this morning? I’ll call and sweet-talk them while you wash up.”
Twenty minutes later, we wander into the kitchen.
“Look, it’s a ravening horde,” Arissa says dryly. “Come to steal food with puppy dog pouts.”
“Guilty,” Daniel says. “What are you doing here? I thought you were off today.” Arissa’s the only member of the senior staff who doesn’t work both weekend days.
“I was, but Ray’s sick, so I’ve been demoted to cook for the day. We’ve got waffles if you want them.”
“Yes,” I reply instantly. “Can I go help myself to the buffet, or do you want me to wait in here?”
She shakes her head as Daniel pours us both coffee.
The hot drinks station is one of the only things we’re allowed to touch in the kitchen.
Since the kitchen is licensed for commercial use, Arissa is hella strict about untrained people using it.
“None of the guests have come down yet, so I haven’t got the buffet set up.
I’ll dish up for you—the bacon and sausage are ready. Do you want eggs and toast too?”
My stomach growls. “You’re my favorite,” I tell her. “Poached, please. I could do the toast?”
The assistant on duty—I can’t remember his name—laughs. “Dude, no. Why are you even asking that?”
Arissa points at him. “What he said. Go wait in the staff room. Daniel, what do you want to eat?”
“I’ll have the same as him. Has Josh been down this morning?”
“I haven’t seen him.” She casts a sideways look at her assistant and lowers her voice. “The email?”
We both nod. “It’s weird, right?” I ask.
“Is that why you’re here? To ask him about it?” She grins. “Really? You can’t wait one day?”
“Your amazing cooking is also a big attraction,” Daniel says.
“But mostly we can’t wait one day,” I add, and she rolls her eyes.
“Don’t forget to add our breakfast to the bill,” I throw over my shoulder as Daniel and I walk out.
All staff get a certain number of free meals, and of course we’re welcome to help ourselves to the snack stations whenever we want, but because Daniel and I live on the property, we don’t get as many freebies as most of the others.
It’s so easy for us to dash home for lunch, and our salaries are plenty generous, even with the reduction for rent and utilities.
We can still eat at the house whenever we want, but each meal gets added to a monthly tab.
We settle into the staff room with our coffee, leaving the door open so we can hear if Josh comes down.
If he doesn’t, we’re going to have to go up and knock on his door, and I’d rather not.
He might still be sleeping, since he barely has a commute, or he might open the door in his underwear or something.
Which, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see, but I’ve been in that apartment before.
It’s spacious, but the bed is right there.
I don’t want to risk being overcome with lust at the sight of him mostly naked near a bed.
Arissa brings our breakfast five minutes later.
“Marry me,” Daniel offers, and she smacks his shoulder.
“Josh just stumbled into the kitchen,” she says in a low voice. “His eyes were barely open, and he went straight for the coffee. I promised him breakfast and will send him in here.”
“Thank you,” I say through a mouthful of waffle.
She pulls a face. “You’re gross.”
“We’ll report back,” Daniel assures her, and she goes back to the kitchen.
Josh sleepwalks in—swear to god, if the guy is awake, I’ll eat my boots—a minute later.
“Whoa, dude, what happened? You look wrecked,” Daniel says, kicking out one of the empty chairs. Josh sinks into it wordlessly and gulps from his mug.
Daniel and I exchange glances. “Was there a problem with the guests last night?” I ask. “You know you can call us when shit happens. Don’t stay up all night dealing with it alone.”
He lifts his gaze from his mug and blinks slowly, seeming surprised to see us. Then he startles. “Oh my god, what time is it? Am I late?”
“Relax,” Daniel soothes. “You’re fine. We came up for breakfast.”
He slumps forward. “Thank fuck.”
“Didn’t you sleep well?” I try again.
“One hour,” he mutters.
“You only slept for one hour? Why?” Daniel sounds aghast. He needs a solid eight hours to function. It makes him unbearable when we have a problem with the animals in the middle of the night.
Josh waves his free hand. “Ghosts.”
That seems to be all we’re going to get out of him, and I’d totally respect his right to privacy if not for the fact he’s requested a meeting because of something the ghosts said, and now it seems the ghosts kept him up all night.
Arissa brings his food, giving Daniel and me a chance to wordlessly communicate about who asks the next question. We know each other pretty well, so we manage to get the points across with wiggling eyebrows and grimaces.
“Are you both having strokes?” Josh asks, fork in hand as he studies us. The coffee must be kicking in, because he seems more alert.
“Nope,” Daniel says cheerfully. “Just wondering what the meeting tomorrow is for.”
Josh puts his fork down, buries his face in his hands—his nails are a bright yellow that makes me smile—and groans. When he looks up again, he says, “Please don’t ask me now. I’m too tired to tell it properly. And we have a lot of work today. Trust me, it’s better to wait until tomorrow.”
“But,” Daniel begins, and I kick him under the table. It doesn’t take a genius to see Josh is at his limit.
“Just tell us this,” I say instead. “Is there anything we can do right now?”
He seems surprised at first, then takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “No. There’s nothing we can do right now. I should have slept last night, but I was… processing.”
Okay, fuck, that’s not a good sign. He’s right, though—if he needed a sleepless night to process whatever this is, I don’t need to be thinking about it while I’m working the forge. Blacksmithing can be dangerous even when you’re giving it your full attention.
“I’m not feeling a whole lot better about this,” Daniel says. “But okay. We trust you.”
Josh blinks. “Thanks? That’s, uh, really… nice.”
“Eat your breakfast,” I chide. No way is he going to be able to deal with people all day if he doesn’t fuel himself. He looks down at his plate, then picks up his fork and begins shoveling in scrambled eggs.
Daniel and I talk quietly while we eat, mostly leaving Josh to his own devices. There’s a list of things that need doing in the barn that we’ve both been putting off, so we discuss which ones can continue to wait and which need attention ASAP.
By the time we’re done with breakfast, Josh seems a bit more awake. Arissa sticks her head in to ask Daniel how much fresh lettuce is available from the garden, and he leaves with her. I study Josh.
He lifts his head and catches me staring. “What? Do I have food on my face?” Grabbing a napkin, he wipes his mouth.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m just worried about you.” My face gets hot, but I push on. “Is there any way you can catch a nap?”
He scoffs, but he’s smiling at me. “Not on a Sunday. I’m okay, Ewan, I promise. I did get some sleep.” A laugh huffs from him. “I must look pretty shit for you to be worried.”
The words are out before I can stop them. “You look pretty, but never shit.” I reach out and grab one of his hands, tilting it so the nail polish gleams in the light. “Great color. Sunshiny, like you.”
Those big hazel eyes blink at me, and then color stains his cheeks. “Uh… that’s sweet. Thanks.”
And I’ve made it awkward again. Clearing my throat, I get up. “Well, gotta go. There’s stuff to do in the smithy before the crowds arrive.”
“Yeah, bye.” The relief in his voice is clear.
In the hallway, I run into Freddie. He’s fully manifested and rummaging through the linen closet.
“Fred, what are you doing?” It’s impossible not to sound exasperated. The housekeeping staff hate Freddie because he’s always checking up on them.
“I’m inspecting the linens,” he says. “They have been shelved in a most haphazard manner.”
I glance into the closet. The shelves are filled with stacks of sheets and towels that look plenty tidy to me. “They’re fine. But if it concerns you, you can rearrange them.”
He gasps and throws up his hands. “I? Rearrange the linens? That’s a job for staff, not guests.”
I give him a level look, and he has the grace to look abashed. “Since you’re neither, it’s up to you whether you do it or not. But leave the housekeepers alone.”
He sniffs. “Very well.”
I take three steps down the hall, then turn back. “Freddie?”
“Yes?” He closes the closet door.
“Do you know what the staff meeting tomorrow is about?”
“Of course!”
Satisfaction curls my lips. “So what’s it about?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not permitted to speak of it. I’m not the elected representative.”
The… Do I even want to know?
“Thanks anyway.”
I’ll find out in one day. It’s not worth getting into a complicated conversation with a ghost over.