Page 45 of The Stranger

“I’m not into luxury.”

“I like it. I just can’t afford it,” she replies airily.

“Has that happened before, with the nanny and the journalist, whatever. Just because he’s rich?”

“Rich and scandalous.”

The plot thickens. “How’d you mean?”

“Girl, did you not google this family before you started working for them?”

“You can’t believe the stuff you read on the internet,” I say with a shrug. If half the things written about my brother were true, he’d be suffering from terrible chafe from all the women he’s supposed to have bedded, when the truth is he’s besotted with his wife and bonkers for family life. But the truth rarely travels as fast as a good tale.

“Well, I’ve heard stories.”

“Stories you won’t repeat.” Both our heads swing right at Jacque’s low interjection. “Right, Zoe?”

“You’re just jealous no one wants you for your money,” Zoe retorts.

“That’s because the ladies want me for my sparkling personality.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Alone,” she snipes.

“Primrose is right.” Jacques leans around her to look at me. “The tabloids don’t know shit.”

“But they have all the fun stuff,” she retorts happily. “And⁠—”

Whatever she’s about to say is lost as the captain announces we’re beginning our descent.

Great.

13

PRIMROSE

I’ve been to the Balearic Islands before, though I’d avoided the Ibiza party scene, despite it being a rite of passage for many a British twenty-something. But I’ve never been the high-energy-dance-from-dusk-’till-dawn type of girl. Not that we’re in Ibiza but Mallorca. On the du Beaumont estate.

The house is huge, even by mansion standards, and in the traditional Spanish style. Maybe that should be Iberian with a few Moorish elements thrown in? Anyway, it’s beautiful; blond stone and terracotta-tiled roofs, exposed beams and vaulted arcades. With the mountainous view to the Serra de Tramuntana range, the property is set within lush grounds of date palms, cypress and almond trees, and offers views all the way to the ocean. There are tennis courts, extensive stables, an equestrian arena, guest cottages, and a pool area to rival any five-star hotel.

The place is mind-blowingly bougie, as well as a working vineyard that produces one of the region’s best rosé. I sound like I’ve read the brochure.

“Does the boss entertain while he’s here?” I pop an olive into my mouth, unimpressed I’d asked. I lean my elbows against the island in a very high-end kitchen. Pale wood cabinetry and top of the range appliances set into walls of ancient stone, and fancy pendant lights hanging from the vaulted ceilings.

I find myself periodically glancing up because I’m on gecko high alert. God, they give me the heebie-jeebies. Their almost translucent skin, their creepy lidless eyes, and freaky toe pads.

“You okay? Zoe asks as I give in to a shiver.

“Yeah, good.” I glance ceilingward again. My sister reckons I must’ve been fly or a moth in a previous life to harbour so much hate.

“He’s had a dinner or two here since I’ve worked for the family,” Zoe answers, now concentrating on a large mixing bowl as she carefully folds its contents. “And always business.” Her mouth gives an unimpressed twist.

“It’s a lot of house for a vacation home.” I glance at the range that looks like it belongs in a commercial kitchen. Behind it, copper pans hang in graduated sizes, worn with use and age.

Maria, the housekeeper, gave me the grand tour when we arrived a few days ago, but I still need a GPS to get around. And that’s just the house, because a person could easily get lost within the grounds. In fact, I almost did earlier this afternoon.

Sylvie wanted to visit her pony and insisted on running ahead. Maria’s husband or Sophia, her granddaughter, usually takes her, which meant I wasn’t sure where the heck we were heading. One minute, I was following the back of Sylvie’s white-blonde head, and the next, I stood in the shade of the palm trees, wondering if the boss who hates me would send out a search party. Thankfully, the little love realized I wasn’t behind her and came scampering back.

“Oh, Jacques said to give this to you.” She pulls a white envelope from a nearby shelf and slides it across the countertop.