Chapter 9 – The New Face
Alex brought him home three days later.
A young man waiting in the foyer when I returned from the office.
Tall.
Clean-cut.
White shirt tucked neatly into dark trousers.
Smile warm enough to melt caution.
“Mom,” Alex said, “this is Hunter Chase. Old college friend. Down on his luck after a startup folded. Mind if he crashes here a while?”
Hunter stepped forward.
Extended a hand.
“Mrs. Harrington. Thank you. I won’t be any trouble.”
His grip was firm.
Eyes direct, respectful.
I held the handshake half a second longer.
Noted the faint callus on his palm—manual work once, maybe.
Or practice.
“Guest wing is fine,” I said. “Alex will show you.”
That night, Hunter appeared at my study door.
Knock soft.
Tray in hand.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Thought you might want something warm. Almond walnut broth—my specialty. Good for late nights.”
Steam rose from the cup.
Smelled rich, comforting.
I took it.
Our fingers brushed.
His lingered.
Not accidental.
But not pushy.
I sipped.
It was good.
“Stay out of trouble, Mr. Chase.”
He smiled, slow.
“I intend to earn my keep, ma’am.”
The door closed behind him.
I stared at the cup a long moment.
Then dumped the rest in the sink.
Rinsed it twice.
Set my phone to record the hallway feed.
Just in case.