Page 25 of His

He’s right. It’s the only way we’re going to make it through this.

So, this hour, I decide to take a long, hot shower. There, I revel in the delicious soreness between my legs, and find myself longing to be alone with Astor again.

After toweling off, I consider what a “housekeeper” would wear. Knowing Astor, he’d probably hire from a company that demands their employees wear uniforms, but I obviously don’t have that, so I pull on a plain, white t-shirt and the cutoff jean shorts he likes so much. I’ve decided that I’m not going to unpack. Not while she’s here, or we’re here. It’s not home until Astor and I are alone—wherever that may be.

Hair still wet from the shower, I quietly open the door and peek into the hallway, not wanting to run into Valerie. The master bedroom, her bedroom, is directly across from mine, down the hall.

The door is closed.

Phew.

I don’t see, or hear, Astor anywhere.

I tiptoe to the kitchen. There I find Leo stocking the pantry and I get hit with major deja vu. He was doing this exact thing the first time we met in the lake house. The difference then was that Valerie’s presence was memorialized in photos. Now, she’s here in person.

“Morning,” I say.

“Ma’am.”

I smile. “Please call me Sabine.”

He dips his chin, continues storing groceries.

I help myself to coffee. “Do you know where Astor is?”

“In his office.”

“I didn’t know this place had an office.”

“It’s the door right next to the guest bedroom.”

“Thank you.” I sip. “So, uh, where’s Valerie?”

“In her bed, per usual.”

I notice the tray next to the sink. On it sits an empty cup of tea and half-eaten bowl of oatmeal. I wonder if Astor fed her, and again, I get that weird possessive feeling.

Ugh, this is going to be tough.

Just as I’m about to leave, the master bedroom door opens and closes. I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat at the thought of running into Valerie.

Instead, a five-foot sixty-something woman barrels into the kitchen. She doesn’t appear to be surprised to see me as she takes a water mug that was nearly her size to the sink and dumps the mostly melted ice cubes. Her silver hair is pulled back in a bun and she’s wearing traditional scrubs, rolled up at the ankles.

“Mornin’ Leo,” she says with a hint of a southern accent.

Leo nods. At least he doesn’t speak to her either.

She yanks open the freezer and, with bare hands, scoops handfuls of ice cubes into the mug.

“You’re Sabine?” She says over her shoulder.

“Yes.” My gaze flickers to Leo. Does he know we’re telling everyone that I’m the housekeeper?

The woman turns, shakes my hand with wet, ice-cold fingers. I bite back a wince.

“I’m Jackie. Valerie’s nurse.”

“Nice to meet you,” I smile, and can’t decide if I like her or not based on this initial meeting.

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