Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Of course.” She sounded unsure. “Call me?”
I promised her I would, but hung up feeling awful. Monroe had sounded worried, and I knew she was probably kicking herself for mentioning Walker. I’d have to reassure her we were okay.
Unfortunately for Walker, he was one of the first people I saw as I hurried in through the staff entrance. He stood talking with Jock McRory, head of security.
At my appearance, Walker turned that intense gaze on me. I held it as I strode toward him. But instead of stopping, I skirted him and Jock and said coolly as I passed, “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop telling people I can’t afford to give my kid the things she wants.”
His chin jerked in surprise, his eyes flaring, but I turned away and marched toward the housekeeping staff room.
“Sloane,” Walker called after me, voice gruff, but I was already gone.
“I hope those are for me.”
At my boss’s teasing tone, I glanced up to see Mrs. Hutchinson staring at the Tupperware filled with madeleines. Agnes Hutchinson was a woman of indeterminate age, but I knew from talking with her she had a grown son and daughter and a gaggle of grandkids. There were laugh lines at her eyes and mouth, but otherwise, she had smooth skin most of the members here paid lots of money to maintain. Her blue eyes were bright with amusement as our gazes met.
I fastened the three gold buttons on the left upper chest of my black tunic. The housekeeping uniform at Ardnoch was simple and comfortable. It was a black tunic and black pants. The short sleeves turned up at the ends to reveal a plaid (or tartan) fabric detail. We could wear comfortable black shoes of our choosing, so I wore black sneakers. My hair was up in a ponytail most days. It was not the sexiest look, but staff were seriously discouraged from becoming involved with the members, anyway, so we weren’t supposed to look sexy.
“They’re for Ms. Howard,” I told Mrs. Hutchinson before reaching into my locker to produce another Tupperware filled with small cupcakes. “These are for you and the rest of the team.”
“I swear my uniform no longer fits,” Mrs. Hutchinson commented with glee as she took the box. “Thank you, Sloane. I’ll put these in the staff room … after I pinch one for my wee morning tea.” She winked.
Determined to shrug off my anger with Walker, I chuckled as I tightened my ponytail. My fellow employees had warned me that Mrs. Hutchinson was fair but stern. However, she’d only ever been super warm to me. “Do you mind if I drop these off”—I picked up the box of madeleines—“to Ms. Howard before I start my duties?”
“Be quick about it.” She glanced at her watch. “Ms. Howard has a meeting in fifteen minutes.”
The woman’s knowledge of everyone’s schedule was practically occult.
I nodded and hurried out of the room.
Aria Howard was the daughter of Hollywood director and Ardnoch Estate board member Wesley Howard. The family owned a large home on the estate, and that was where Aria was staying while she worked as the new hospitality manager. She was pretty much running the place, giving Lachlan more time with his family.
I stopped outside her office and knocked lightly.
“Come in,” her familiar husky voice called.
Letting myself in, I smiled at her as I closed the door behind me.
Aria sat behind an intimidatingly large captain’s pedestal desk. It even had a leather top. The office was like a smaller version of the estate library. Wall-to-wall dark oak bookshelves, an impressive, open fireplace, two comfortable armchairs situated in front of the desk. A floor-to-ceiling window adjacent to the desk let in light so it didn’t feel too dark. Tiffany lamps aided in chasing off the gloom too. Luxurious velvet curtains at the window pooled on the wooden floors, most of which were covered in expensive carpets.
Aria was a tall, attractively curvy brunette with a Mediterranean dark beauty bestowed upon her by an Italian mother. Her mossy-green eyes were the only feature she’d inherited from her father. Aria was brusquely efficient, with a no-nonsense attitude that made her excellent at her job. However, I knew there was more to her than her aloof facade. She gave me a small smile as I approached her desk and placed the box of madeleines, her favorites, before her.
She shook her head but reached for them with elegantly manicured hands. Almost every one of her fingers was adorned with a barely there, delicate gold ring. Her long, dark hair was curled to perfection, her makeup soft, immaculate, her dark suit tailored and expensive. Even though I couldn’t see her bottom half, I knew she’d be wearing a pencil skirt that hugged her curves, and high heels I’d break an ankle in. “I’ll have to hide these from my mother.” Aria sighed. “But thank you.”