Page 14 of Borrowed Bride

“I shouldn’t,” she says, shaking her head.

“Why?” I ask sharply. “Is there some weird rule where the help can’t share food with the wife?”

“No, not at all!” Tara says quickly. “I’m allergic.”

“Oh.” A wave of foolishness washes over me and I retract the grapes. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I don’t know the exact rules.”

“There’s no rules like that here,” Tara says with a wide smile. It makes her narrow face light up. She’s rather beautiful underneath all that shyness.

“Are you sure?” I glance pointedly at the black and white maid outfit she’s wearing.

“Yes. It’s a quiet job, really. It pays well. And I get the weekend off like any other job,” Tara explains. “This is just the uniform, like the guards’ suits.”

I glance back at Anton and Ben who still haven’t moved from their statue positions. “Oh. What’s um…” I point at Anton. “The pin on their suit. What is that?”

Each guard wears a pin on their lapel but when I asked Anton about it, he glared at me.

“It’s the family crest,” Tara explains. “Everyone under Barrone employ has that pin, see?” Tara lifts the white frill of her shirt collar to show the same pin attached to her dress. “It’s a symbol of what family you’re loyal to. Every family has a different sigil and a different pin. You can only receive a pin from the don, which in this case is Marco. Each pin also has a secret symbol visible under certain conditions that only the don knows so that fakes can’t be made.”

“Wow.” My brow lifts. “That’s way more intense than I expected.”

“People try so hard to be sneaky,” Tara says. “Loyalty is very important to these people.”

“So I’ve noticed. And business-wise?—”

Anton suddenly loudly and abruptly clears his throat, making Tara flinch.

“I don’t know anything about business,” Tara says hurriedly, and the relaxation that was creeping onto her features vanishes immediately. “I’m just a maid.”

“No one isjustanything,” I reply softly, ignoring Anton. “Plus, now you’re my friend.”

“Really?” My heart squeezes at the way Tara’s face lights up.

“Of course! You’re the first person I’ve had a real conversation with.”

“It must be so strange coming here like you did,” Tara says, and her head tilts. “What were you doing before you met Marco?”

“I was?—”

Tara is so sweet that it suddenly feels strange to lie to her. Like I’m doing something awful by deceiving her after she was so nice to me. Our conversation almost made me forget I’m playing a role.

“I was working as a pretzel vendor,” I lie smoothly. “I worked, I would take the cart back to the distributor and either go home or go to clubs. A simple life, really. You know how it is, just doing what you can to make sure the bills are paid. Marco stopped to buy a pretzel and, well, the rest is history as they say.”

“How romantic,” Tara sighs wistfully as if we’re not talking about Marco, the asshole. “Don’t you have anyone out there that you miss, though? Family or something?”

I know she’s just asking regular questions, but my defenses dart up anyway, and I shake my head, smiling tightly. “Nope. Nothing.”

“That’s a shame,” Tara sighs, seemingly blind to my abruptness. “Well, you have us now. I hope you will love it here.”

Tara spends the rest of lunch with me until someone comes looking for her to take her back to her duties. It feels nice tohave a friend, though, and she fills my thoughts as I resume my exploration of the manor. I’ve run into very few staff. In fact, this place is either really empty or it’s just too big, and I keep missing the rest of the employees.

But Tara is now on my list of friends, and she taught me a little about how things work.

It almost sounded like Tara has more freedom than I do.

“Gianna.” A hand grasps my arm, drawing me from my thoughts as I reach for the next door I’ve never been through. I glance up at Ben who briefly tightens his grip. “Marco has requested you stay out of the south wing.”

“Why?”

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