The following few days passed in a blur of paperwork for Kate, broken up only by the various acts of war that were thrown back and forth between her and Sam.
The day after the wallet escapade, the water wouldn’t turn on in either of the showers or the bath. At first Kate assumed it was a plumbing issue but quickly realised it was no unfortunate coincidence when Sam swaggered out of his room wearing nothing but a towel and a smug grin.
‘Great day for a shower, don’t you think?’ he asked cheerily.
Kate’s eyebrows had shot up in surprise, but she simply folded her arms and let him pass without a word. She listened at the door and heard the squeaking of metal on metal, which sounded suspiciously like the sound of a wrench reopening the pipes. A whoosh of running water followed right after, and her mouth dropped open in outrage.
Glaring at the door, Kate thought it over for a few moments, then lifted her chin and marched downstairs to fill up a bucket of water from the kitchen tap. If Sam wanted to play water games, then water games were what he’d get. Carefully walking the full bucket back up the stairs, she promptly emptied it over thecontents of his clothes drawers, soaking every item of clothing he owned.
Not wanting to miss Sam’s reaction, she settled in the hallway to wait, leaning against the banister with a smile of anticipation. He eventually walked out in a cloud of steam, the same towel wrapped around his waist and with water dripping from his dark hair. Seeing her there, he stretched out exaggeratedly with a sound of contentment.
‘Ahh, there’s just nothing better, is there?’ he asked before continuing to his room, whistling loudly.
As the whistling abruptly stopped and was replaced by shouts of frustration, Kate’s grin widened broadly.
‘Nope,’ she said, turning to her room with a satisfied chuckle. ‘Nothing better.’
Sam’s response to that had been to blast heavy metal through the house-wide sound system over the following few days every time she tried to take a call or had a Zoom meeting. He even did it during the night a few times, too, jerking her awake. After the second night of being woken this way, Kate began to debate whether prison might just be worth it if it meant she got to strangle the man with her bare hands, but then a better opportunity suddenly presented itself: Sam’s game night.
Kate was curled up in the lounge checking off the assets she’d documented so far when Sam walked in and stopped beside her, hands on his hips.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘You need to be elsewhere tonight,’ he said. ‘Same deal as before. Upstairs, on a rock leading sailors to their deaths, I don’t care which. Just anywhere else but here.’
‘Charming,’ she said wryly. ‘Why?’
‘It’s game night. And it’s the biggest game of the season, so…’ He tilted his head and upper body towards the door. ‘Off you go.’ He glanced out of the window with an anxious frown.
Kate folded her arms. ‘Not until you ask me nicely.’ She arched a challenging eyebrow.
Sam’s face flashed with annoyance, then he forced a smile. ‘Kate…pleasewould you kindly take your British backside out of this general area for the rest of the evening?’ he asked.
‘Not quite what I meant, but fine,’ she replied flatly. ‘I’ll finish reading this, then I’ll go.’
‘Well, read fast,’ he ordered rudely. ‘I’m headed out to grab some drinks and I’ll be back in ten minutes. I need you gone by then.’
Kate watched him leave, feeling the same irritating fizz of frustration his presence always incited. The man was justinfuriating.Rude and obnoxious and infuriating.
She watched him leave through the window as she gathered her things. She knew she should just ignore him, but they were locked in this maddening game of petty revenge now, and she just couldn’t seem to step away from it. Stopping in her tracks, she glanced over at the remote. The remote he’d told her never, under any circumstances, to move.
She picked it up, turned on the TV and flicked through the channels until she found a particularly dramatic Spanish soap opera. As two women began to argue passionately on screen, she grinned and turned the volume up. She glanced out at the drive to check Sam had definitely left, then jogged upstairs and let herself into his room. Pointedly ignoring the aftershave on his bedside table, she slipped the remote under Sam’s pillow, then made her way next door to her own room with a low, mischievous giggle. That would be the very last place he’d look, even if he turned the house upside down trying to find it.
After changing into a pair of jeans and a thick woolly jumper, Kate filled her satchel with enough work to keep herself busy for a few hours. She slung this over her shoulder just as she heard Sam pull into the drive. Several other male voices joined his ashe neared the door. It seemed his company had arrived to watch the game. Well, they were in for a bit of a surprise.
The voices grew louder as they moved inside, then there was a pause before they all began talking again in more serious tones. Kate listened to the pound of feet on the stairs and waited for the inevitable knock on the door.
‘Kate?’ Sam called tersely.
‘Yes?’ she answered, swirling her bronzing brush over her cheekbones in the mirror.
The door opened and he appeared, his face thunderous. ‘Where is it?’ he demanded.
‘Where’s what?’ she replied. She applied a touch of lip gloss.
‘Don’t play with me,’ he ordered. ‘I’m serious. Where is it?’
Kate screwed the cap back on and rubbed her lips together, making him wait before she answered. ‘If you’re referring to the remote, I can assure you it’s still in the house and it’s perfectly safe,’ she told him, turning to look at him. ‘Or maybe it isn’t. Wesirensdo love to destroy things, after all. Ships, men… The list does grow when we’re feeling cranky after being woken up by loud music several times a night. So who knows?’ She shrugged.