Chapter Twenty-seven
Turns out I really like Vietnamese food, but I love cheesecake more.
Cas joins us; a colleague taking his security watch during his break, and we talk utter nonsense while stuffing our faces.
The novelty of it hits me hard at the end of the meal.
My brain just disconnects from the moment and shows me the wonder of it.
Companionship. Socialising. Normality. Things that others take for granted, but for me, this is a core memory burned into my heart.
There’s a smile on my lips, and from the ache of my cheeks, it’s been there a while. I’m happy.
“I saw the two of you take a tour of the manor the other day. Did Ben show you all his secrets?” Cas asks, giving Ben the wiggly-brow treatment.
“Ephraim’s secrets,” Ben emphasises. “Yeah. This place is a treasure box, if only for the puzzles.”
“Did you find anything new?” Cas asks Ben, betraying his own interest in the subject.
“Not really, though Jules figured out the grapes clue in Ephraim’s office.”
Cas leans forward. “You’re kidding? What was it hiding?”
Ben shrugs. “Not sure yet. It revealed eight keyholes. They look like different-sized hex keys.”
“There’s a hex key in the orb at the top of the grand staircase. On the left side towards the business suites.” Cas offers.
“I forgot about that!”
Cas smirks. “Suggests they’ll be hidden in other puzzle boxes too.”
“The finials are puzzle balls too?” I interrupt.
“Only the left one on the main stairs,” Cas confirms. “I’ve tested the other staircases, but they don’t come off.”
“The upper floors have egg-shaped newel caps that are too small for keys.” Ben points at the stairway, and sure enough, there’s a small egg on top of the newel post
“I’m telling you; there’s one in the ballroom floor.” Cas proposes. “That pattern is too obvious not to be one of Ephraim’s games.
“We’ve sat for hours with that. If you figure it out and I’ll take your night shifts for a month,” Ben offers, suggesting a hopeless cause.
“Nah, shit deal. When am I going to get the time to check it out now that…uh…I’m on a full-time schedule?”
“Now that you’re babysitting me, you mean?” I laugh at his deer-in-the-headlights expression. “How about you babysit me in the ballroom tomorrow afternoon? I can bring my laptop down and work from there,” I suggest, altruism hiding my real plan to solve the puzzle with them.
Ben scrunches up his napkin and throws it at me, missing by inches. “You just want to see the puzzle. Admit it, Honeybee, you’re as into this as we are.”
I admit it openly, throwing his scrunched tissue back at him. “No denial from me.”
“Knew it.”
Cas slides the last slice of cheesecake toward me, but I shake my head.
I take the excuse to float an idea about another of Ephraim’s puzzles. “Actually, you’ve reminded me about our portrait puzzle.”
“The spinner in the old man’s office?” Cas asks.
“How does cheesecake remind you of Ephraim?” Ben asks.
“Not the cheesecake. The puzzle talk. I’ve been comparing the portraits for days.
There are definite differences between the two portraits.
It took me a while to figure it out, but the first portrait has black and white stones randomly lying around; on the shelves in Ephraim’s reflected sight, and disguised as buttons,” I remark.
“Buttons? I missed those.”
“On his cuffs. It’s subtle.” I point out then continue. “However, in the second picture, they’re arranged like piano keys.”
“You think we’re looking for a piano?” Ben asks.
“Maybe, but that’s not all. There’s a scroll on the shelf behind him and it says something different in each painting. Also, the window is slightly too far to the right on the second painting, and the maze can be seen in the corner of the glass.”
“So?”
“So, Ephraim’s office doesn’t face the maze.
None of his windows look onto it. Plus, the maze in the picture is in the bottom left pane of glass, like you are looking down on it.
” I watch as both of them think about the ground floor office and recall where the widows align to the orangery and the lawn.
“Okay, that’s weird,” Ben says first.
Cas leans forward. Elbows resting on his knees as he thinks. “Is he directing us to the maze?”
I’d wondered the same but, just like the change in lighting, I think the maze is just a device to orient us to the building. I explain what I really suspect. “No, I think he’s directing us to his office. His real office.”
“No fucking way!” Cas hisses.
“But it’s exactly the same,” Ben argues. “The décor in each painting is the same as the room we were in. Why would you assume a second room?”
“Because it’s a perfect ruse,” I insist. “You said he was all about balance, but the flip side of that is duality. Like the two paintings there could be two rooms. Identical but in different places. The only other way it might make sense is if he moved his office downstairs at some time?”
Ben shakes his head. “No, the family has kept that room like a shrine to the old man all these years. If they suspected another office, they’d have not kept this one.
Plus, Ephraim having two offices wouldn’t be out of the question.
One for public and one for private. One for business and one for secrets.
In that case, he would be far more likely to create a room with a hidden entry,” Ben reasons.
His eyes flick up to mine. “Do you have lectures tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, one is live and the other is recorded. I have to attend the first one, but I can push the recorded one back. Do you want to go hunting for the office?”
“Are you up for it?” he asks, and all three of us know it’s a stupid question.
“Of course.”
“Then it’s a date,” Cas cheers. “We can check out the ballroom floor too.”
Ben and I shoot awkward glances at each other before looking away. Ben mumbles something that I don’t catch, distracting Cas with conversation.
I tune them out. A strange buzzing sensation exists in both my stomach and my chest. Excitement and something else.
The thought of running around this house in search of treasure and secrets is so childish and impractical, and yet it brings a smile to my face.
No pressure, no Franz, no deep promises, no fear; just freedom to be silly. A chance to be with friends.
Then it’s a date.
Or more? That’s a throw away comment for Cas but is the same true for Ben?
Is it okay to think of Ben that way? Am I attracted to him?
Yes. Sure, he’s wiry, small, and has a kink in his slim nose that suggests he can handle himself in a scrap.
He prefers to slink in shadows than to walk around a park in the sun, but he’s kind, honest, always there, shrewd, watchful, and smart.
In the Vale, he’d rise through the ranks quickly.
In the Heights, he’s a useful commodity.
To me, he’s Ben. In the end, that’s what matters.
Whether he’ll approve of the open-style thing I have going with Dax and Aiden though, well, that is something altogether different.
“Jules?”
“Huh?”
“Okay, that’s my sign to get back to work and your sign to get some sleep. You look exhausted.” Cas chuckles.
“I’m not surprised. She didn’t take a single break.” I’m not even going to ask how Ben knows that. At this point, I’m convinced he spends his days behind the walls.
“I noticed. Not even a lunch break. Need me to order that too, Jules?” Cas jokes.
“You should, just so she remembers to eat,” Ben teases.
I lift my hands and cover both their faces with my palms outstretched until I can no longer see them. “Oh, shut up. What a pair of old nags. I’m fine. You forget I ran my life on a scrap of breakfast. Whole days fuelled by a single croissant.”
“That’s not something to brag about,” Cas chastises, discarding our takeout boxes in the recycling. “You have the time and ability to look after yourself, Jules. It’s important for you prioritise yourself.”
“I do!”
“You don’t!” Ben joins in. “You’re so determined to reach your end goal that you discard everything else. I get it, but you can slow down now. You need to, or you’ll not be healthy enough to see your work through to the end.”
Tension flares. I’m not keen on being chastised. “You talk as if I’m hurting myself. I’m not deliberately avoiding food,” I snap.
“Maybe not, but you are neglecting yourself. If you watched your siblings doing this to themselves, what would you do?” Ben fires back. Trust him to hit the bullseye.
“I’d make them food and feed them if I had to.” I nod. “Okay. I hear you. I’ll take breaks. I’ll eat regularly.”
“You’ll train with Cas for an hour every morning,” Ben adds, “I know he offered, and I know you were interested.”
Why? Why do I have to be interested in another high-handed male? Christ. If this is the way it’ll be, maybe I’ll just change my mind about all of them.
Ah, who am I kidding?
“And how did you know what I was thinking?” I argue.
“I could see it written all over your face.” I can’t even deny it.
“This stalking thing is suddenly feeling very intrusive.” Both Ben and Cas laugh. “Fine. Training too.”
“Good.”
Cas stands up and claps his hands. “I’ll make arrangements. Kellan is doing the night shift in the security office, but I’ll ask Paul to do my morning shift, and we can head straight to the gym. Six—”
“Seven!” I negotiate. Like hell am I getting up that early for anyone but Charlie and Koko.
“Fine. Seven,” he concedes easily. Too easily. I should have tried for eight. “Meet me at the elevator in the garage.” A dark grin crosses his face, and I know I’m going to be in for a world of trouble and hurt.
“God, I’m already regretting it.”
“You’ll enjoy it,” Cas insists. He crosses the room and drops his foot onto the top step. “Or you won’t. One way to find out.”
“Arsehole!” I shout after him and grin at his returning chuckle.
The security door bangs closed downstairs before either of us speak.
“He’s a good guy,” Ben says, watching the empty stairway like he can’t bring himself to look at me as he says it. “You could do worse.”
“What? Cas?” Is Ben being dense or jealous? I have no interest in Cas beyond the easy friendship we seem to have struck.
“He seems to like you.” Ben stands and busies himself fixing the objects on the coffee table.
“Cas already has someone he likes. You should hear the way he talks about her. Ashlyn, I think he said her name is, and anyway, don’t you think I’ve got enough on my plate with three of you constantly on at me?” My thoughts stall as I register what I’ve admitted.
Ben stares at me before calling me out. “Three?”
I didn’t mean to say it. It just came out. Clearly my subconscious brain already thinks of Ben as part of whatever weirdness I have going on, but can I blame me? He stalks me all day. He’s aware of everything I do and now much of what I’m thinking. What else am I expected to think?
“Uh huh. I’ve got you, Dax, and Aiden glued to me day in day out,” I say, trying to make it nonchalant and non-committal. Let him read it the way he wants. Only Ben doesn’t give me the easy out. He just stares.
“You’re adding me to that list?” he asks.
“You’ve added yourself.” His brow furrows. I realise too late that it might be taken wrong—like he’s pushed himself onto me. I rush to explain. “Your actions have anyway. You seem extra considerate of me. I took it to mean, uh…am I wrong?”
“Are you wrong?” he repeats but doesn’t answer. Instead, he holds his arm out and directs me toward the stair. We climb in silence. Ben remains two steps behind me the entire way. When we reach my bedroom door, he takes a deep breath and moves away. Giving me space and changing the subject.
“I’ll sleep here tonight. I know the guys are watching downstairs and that you are as safe as it gets, but I…
just in case you need someone in the night, to talk or just to feel less…
I’m saying this wrong. I’ll be right next door.
” As if to prove it, he walks to the door on the opposite side of the stair and reaches for the handle.
“I appreciate that. Thank you,” I say.
“No problem… We should…” He nods toward his room.
“Yeah. It really has been a long day, and I’m probably going to fall into a food coma after all of that,” I agree.
“And you have an early start,” he adds.
“Yeah.”
“Right.” He doesn’t move an inch.
Neither do I. “Okay.”
“After you…”
I take the invitation to move, even if only to avoid the awkwardness between us.
It’s not exactly uncomfortable, more the kind of nervousness you experience as a teen talking with a crush.
That slow, painfully wonderful moment where you ultimately wish the floor would open up and swallow you for your social ineptitude.
We stand at our respective rooms like mirrors of each other, poised with hands on the door handles. I turn my handle. Ben breaks the silence.
“The name Mouse used to hurt because it was more accurate than a joke. I was always small. An unwanted pest. I constantly found myself under someone’s boot, you know?” He stares at the door as he speaks. I watch him with his head bowed and hurt for him because I know that feeling well.
“I do.”
“That’s why I want to thank you.”
“There’s no need.” I turn and take a step towards him, but he’s still staring at the floor in front of his door.
“There is. Th…thank you for seeing me.” Ben’s words stutter as his voice thickens around a lump he swallows down quickly. “You’ll never know just how much that means.”
He slips into his room before I can reply. Not that I’d know what to say. I stand for a second, staring at his closed door, and wonder how long people have treated him that way. How long has he treated himself this way?
I slip into my room and vow to do my absolute best to continue to make Ben feel seen, and heard, and important, because he is all those things to me already.