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“Come on,” he tells me. “I’ll show you to your room.”
I follow him. “My room?”
He glances over his shoulder. “Unless you want to share mine.”
I slow down because he’s giving me that look again. The same one he was giving me last night. The same one that makes me feel like he’s burning holes through my clothes. The one that makes my skin feel warm and tingly.
I shake the feeling off and pick up my pace. “No, thanks. You’ve got lots of spare bedrooms, right?”
From the size of this floor, I’m guessing there are at least five.
Mason grins. “Take your pick.”
~
I pick the room closest to my old one. Yellow sheets. Green walls. Spacious desk by the window. The stained glass lamp and the collage of stamps on the wall were the ones that sealed the deal for me.
I lie down on top of the bed. It sinks beneath my weight. My eyelids close as the sensation of comfort overwhelms me.
So soft. And luxurious. Everything in this room is, just like in the suite of a five-star hotel. Yet it’s even more sophisticated, at the same time cozy and just a touch whimsical. The other rooms weren’t shabby, either. Even the room with the black sheets, the metal shelves and the frosted glass light fixtures looks like a contemporary work of art. I just didn’t pick it because it was too… cold for me. This room is warm. Sunny. It’s just right. And it’s just what I need.
“Mrs. Burke?” The maid’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Yes?” I answer.
With everyone calling me that – I tried to ask them to call me Aster but that only seemed to make them uncomfortable so I just let it go – I’ve already become used to it.
“Oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Burke. I didn’t realize you were taking a nap.”
“I’m not,” I assure her as I sit up. I run my fingers over the sheets. “The bed was just… heavenly. Like a fluffy cloud.”
The maid grins.
I pat the bed. “Here. Try it.”
She raises her hand. “I’d rather not, Mrs. Burke.”
I’ve made her uncomfortable again. I guess it will take me longer to get used to dealing with maids. Mason has five of them, or so Frank told me, and a valet and two chefs who alternate shifts in the kitchen. I asked him why there were so many when only Mason lives here and he said Mason likes the place kept squeaky clean and everything he needs always within reach. I guess that’s what it means to be wealthy. And now, I have to live like it, too. But should I get used to it? I’m not going to live here forever or enjoy all this forever. Eventually, I’ll have to give it all up.
“Mrs. Burke?” The maid’s question makes me realize my thoughts have drifted off again.
“I’m sorry.” I give her a smile. “What was it you wanted?”
“I’m done unpacking your bags, Mrs. Burke.” She glances at the door to the closet behind her.
Of course she is. I didn’t bring much. Mason told me I didn’t have to.
“Thank you…” I try to remember her name, but I’m not even sure she mentioned it to me and she’s not wearing a name tag. “What’s your name again?”
“Tess.”
“Thank you, Tess.”
She nods. “Will there be anything else, Mrs. Burke?”
I pause. “Fill up a tub for me?”
“Of course. Would you like the water more on the hot side or cooler? Would you like – ?”
“I was just kidding.” I wave my hand.
Tess looks confused. Right. That’s a no-no, too.
“I’ll take my bath later.” And on my own. “You can go, Tess. Thank you.”
But she doesn’t. “Before I do, the chef, Ron, told me to ask you if you have any preferences when it comes to food, or any allergies or anything you don’t eat.”
I touch my chin as I think. “Well, I don’t like offal or rabbits or snails, stuff like that. I’m not really adventurous when it comes to food. And I’m not too fond of celery. But I don’t have any food allergies and I’ll eat practically everything else. Burgers and fries. Seafood. Pasta. Sushi. Kebabs. I like eating food with my hands. And I like something sweet at the end of every meal, even if it’s just a bite-sized candy bar.”
Tess nods. She doesn’t seem to be taking notes. Does she remember everything I just told her? If so, I’m impressed.
“And where would you like your meals?” she asks next. “And what about your schedule? Do you have brunch? Or a light breakfast then lunch? Do you want dinner late or early?”
Wow. So many questions.
“What does Mason usually do?” I ask her.
“Mr. Burke usually has a working breakfast at his office, either here or downstairs.”
“Downstairs? The ninth floor?”
“No. His office on the sixth floor.”
