Page 24 of Failure to Match

We were led through two separate hallways, down a short set of stairs, and into… ah, yes,of coursethis place had a separate area for the live-in staff. “Servants quarters” as they were called. Andof courseJackson would assign me a room down here.

I bit down a smile. If it was supposed to be an insult, it didn’t come across as one. This space was already warmer and more homey than Jackson’s side of the penthouse.

“You’ll have to excuse Young Master Sinclair’s mood,” Bensen eventually said. “This process has not been exactly easy for him.”

Right. Because it’d been a walk in the fucking park for me.

“You don’t appreciate me defending him,” he went on, a knowing smile tightening his cheeks as he watched me.

I shrugged. “I’m sure you have your reasons.”

I was also sure they had something to do with the fact that Jackson was signing his paychecks. I couldn’t fathom why he’d defend him otherwise.

His jaw shifted like he was going to say something else, but he seemed to decide against it, choosing to remain silent until we finally arrived at a set of white doors.

“Here we are.” He held out a long bronze key for me to take. “This is for you. You’ll find that the lovely Ms. Harrisons have stocked the suite with everything you may require for the duration of your stay with us. However, please do let us know if there is anything else we can assist you with. We are, per the direct request of Minerva Sinclair, at your full service.”

I took the key—which was just shiny enough to distract Toebeans—and thanked him before twisting the door handle open.

Bensen tipped his head forward. “I’ll be out here when you’re ready to be escorted back.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I remember how to get back. You don’t have to wait.”

“As you wish, Madame.” Another head bow.

“Actually, could you please just call me by my name?” I said.

“As you wish.” And I swear his lips started to form the M before he stopped himself.

“Thank you.” I offered him a smile before entering the suite which, as it turned out, was bigger than my apartment.

I mean, sure, I’d downgraded to a studio after Ria moved out, but still.

I set Toebeans down so he could sniff and wander around while I did the same. There was more color in here than I’d expected, though it was all very soft—lots of muted pinks and gentle creams. I liked it. It reminded me a little of my bedroom growing up.

This was a lot nicer, and the walls lacked all the scratch-and-smell stickers but, you know, it had some of the same comforting vibes.

“Okay, yeah,” I said to Toebeans, who was carefully choosing which middle area of the upholstered bed would be best for him to monopolize. He needed to ensure my spine remained as contorted as possible while I slept. Otherwise, what would be the point? “I wouldn’t mind being stuck in here for a month. Not too bad huh, cutie?”

There was a walk-in closet, a huge balcony, a small kitchenette, and even a minibar. Also, the bathroom wasswanky. It had a rainshower, a toilet that talked, and a velvet storage bench tucked tastefully under a large window overlooking the Toronto city skyline.

By the time I left the room, Toebeans had made himself at home on top of a throw pillow he’d knocked off the couch. He hated new people but had absolutely no issues adjusting to new environments.

“You okay to be left alone for a bit, cutie?”

He yawned, tail swooshing.

He’d be fine. I was almost sure of it.

I was lost.

Likelostlost.

This place was a fucking maze and the harder I tried to get out, the more confusing the twists and turns seemed to get. I was positive that I’d walked through the same hallway at least four times, except each time it had led me to a different room or area. And because everything was so fucking sleek and modern and monotone, there weren’t enough visual markers for me to navigate from.

How the hell had I made my escape so easily when I’d run out of here in the stupid towel? Was it an adrenaline thing?

I thought I had it. From my recollection, Bensen had taken just two left turns before we’d reached the staircase. One by the giant matte-black minimalist painting, and the other by the Bonsai tree with the twisted white trunk. I’d made it to the painting but couldn’t find the tree to save my life.

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