Page 5 of Intrigued
“She’ll stay in this room,” Jasper said.
I quickly looked at the sexy Christmas son then back at William. I suspected not showing emotion was a trait William had mastered over the years. However, I caught his brow wrinkle ever so slightly, and I could see the hint of bewilderment in his eyes.
But without questioning Jasper’s decision, William nodded once. “Your luggage is on the way up.” Then he bowed before walking out of the bedroom.
I wanted to say something cynical like, “Really, Pompous Mac Christmas? You all make the house staff bow around here?”
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Miss Henderson,” Jasper said and gusted past me.
His energy hit me like a whirlwind, but I swept myself around fast enough to say, “It’s Holly.”
He looked over his shoulder to glare at me, and without addressing my offer to refer to me on a less formal basis, he walked out of the bedroom.
I stood there for a moment, wondering what in the world had just happened. But then two women who appeared to be close to my age entered, wearing maids’ uniforms and carrying my luggage. We spent a very brief time folding my clothes, putting them in drawers, and hanging other items in the huge, empty walk-in closet. Then we arranged my personals and toiletries on the counter and drawers in the attached bathroom, which was also fit for a queen. It felt strange not to have enough items to fill all the space.
“So,” I said to the maid who had been the most cheerful. “What’s so special about this bedroom?”
“All the rooms in the Christmas mansion are special, Miss Henderson.” Her answer sounded forced, rehearsed.
I stretched my smile wider. “It’s Holly.”
Her expression didn’t match my intensity. “Miss Henderson, I thank you for your modesty and kindness, but my job is to make you feel at home.”
“That’s fine, but you can do your job around me without being Rosie the Robot Maid.”
Her eyebrows ruffled.
“The Jetsons? Cartoon Carnival Network? Late night? 2000s?”
She smiled as she shook her head.
I chuckled. “Well, check them out. I mean, the Jetsons will make you believe there’s life on Mars.”
Her eyes expanded. “Seriously?”
I shook my head, grinning. “Well, only if you’re six years old, but still. It’s good TV.”
Her smile turned warmer. Then she searched over her shoulder as the other maid rolled my suitcase out of the bedroom. Once the other woman was out of earshot, she stepped closer until our noses nearly touched then spoke in a whisper. “My name is Crystal Preacher. I’m new here, but my mother, Sally Preacher, worked as Amelia Christmas’s personal maid for years.” She stepped back again and spoke normally. “Will you be needing any more assistance, Miss Henderson?”
I could feel how narrowed my eyes were. “I’m fine, Crystal.”
“It’s Ms. Preacher,” she said with a gracious smile.
“Right,” I muttered and kept my eyes on her as she bowed and walked out of the room. Gosh, I hated the bowing. No one needed to do that in order to fulfill their duties.
It suddenly occurred to me that all of the paradoxes in personalities I’d encountered so far reminded me of the person who’d invited me there in the first place. At that point, the only individual who could make me feel truly welcome was not there. I wasn’t shocked. Nine years ago when we were freshmen in college, Bryn had had difficulty keeping her word. Even then, I knew it was because she was spoiled and had never suffered any consequences for not being mindful of those who would be affected by her self-centeredness.
I flopped down in the chair Jasper had abandoned. It smelled like his cologne, so I took a deeper whiff of it. A large part of me still wanted to leave the Christmas place. But then I remembered those blue-green eyes. The energy emanating from his palm when we’d shaken hands made my heart flutter just thinking about it. Perhaps the fact that I was so attracted to him was a reason to get in my car and get the hell out of there. Men like Jasper Christmas were heartbreakers. They couldn’t feel authentic love. Life was a script to people like the Christmases. Blue bloods bore the right kind of descendants to carry on the family names and riches. His future wife would have to be obedient, know her place, and bear his sons. I could never be that woman or play that role.
“My goodness, it’s true,” a familiar voice said. The tone had matured some, but it was still youthful.
I quickly rose to my feet as Bryn seemed to float toward me with her arms open wide.
“You’re finally here,” I sang, so relieved to see her.
We hugged.
“You look well, and beautiful as always,” Bryn said. Whenever she complimented me on my appearance, it always sounded as though she didn’t really mean it. I didn’t care, though. I’d always believed that Bryn had to be the prettiest and most interesting person in the room, or else she would rather be somewhere else.
