Page 40 of Prince Charmless
Did I say that? I don’t remember.
“Plans can be changed. What’s your favorite? I’ll make whatever.”
“My favorite food isn’t dinner food.”
“Says who? Anything can be dinner if you eat it at night.” Learned that in university.
The green from the stoplight illuminates her awkward smile. “Pancakes?” she squeaks.
“I can do pancakes. It’s easier than what I was planning.”
Which was absolutely nothing.
13
Melina
Taylor is one hundred percent lying about something. It’s not like I’m scared of him. I know he’s all bark and no bite. I’m just curious about what the hell is going on.
The manor is three stories and made from stone brick in various shades of gray. I wouldn’t say the place is an architectural feat. It’s very up-and-down-looking and adorned with non-distinct rectangular windows. Medieval is what I would call it if I knew anything about architecture. Back then, there was a trend of making all the buildings look as menacing and haunted as possible.
Taylor slams his car door. “You’ve been here before, remember?” he says from behind me.
“Is it possible it’s gotten bigger?”
He doesn’t answer. Actually, I haven’t beenherehere. The wedding was held in the foyer at the front entrance. Now we’re at a side wing. Maybe he’ll let me do some exploring.
I follow Taylor up some marble steps lined with neatly trimmed shrubs and through a dark mahogany door that doesn’t need to be unlocked. I guess when you’re rich, you don’t have to worry about keys.
The corridor I step into has low ceilings and simple wood furniture. Taylor goes ahead of me, but I’m too busy staring at a painting of an old sailboat.
“Melina?” he calls, realizing I’m not by his side.
I do a slow 360. “So this is your terrarium,” I say, examining the wainscot walls lit by gold sconces.
“You can just call me a snake, Melina. No need to get all creative.” He looks at the painting and then back at me. “I don’t know much about the art that’s in here.”
Placing a hand on my back, he walks me down the hallway to a large living room lined with huge French windows. Some furniture is scattered across the floor, and an upright piano sits in the corner next to an unlit fireplace. I don’t get much time to take in the space because suddenly I’m led into a kitchen. Not the kitchen I saw when we were setting up at the wedding, this one is smaller and less industrial-looking.
Taylor takes my coat off and leaves for a bit. I set my bag on the island and stare up at the gold-painted molding. Even the ceilings are beautiful. The door on the other side of the space also looks enticing, so I go over and open it a crack. It leads to a long hallway that I think I remember seeing at the wedding.
“You can snoop if you want to.”
I jump at Taylor’s voice. When I turn my head, he quickly looks up from my chest. Yeah, I may have undone my top button. Sue me.
“Just don’t get lost,” he warns.
“Do you have one of those shelves where you pull out a book and it opens a whole secret room?”
“I’m not sure I’d tell you if I did,” he says, pulling out ingredients from a cabinet.
I take a peek into the living room again.
“Take a look, Melina, I don’t care. You’re not afraid of ghosts, are you?”
“No,” I try to say very confidently.
Taylor’s lip twitches at the speed with which I answered his question.
