I follow Lukas down into the kitchen like an obedient puppy. He gestures for me to take a seat at the wide breakfast bar, which I hurry to do. I glance around the industrial space, noting that this setup is far too elaborate for a home of three or so. But to each his own, I suppose. Lukas wrenches open the concealed refrigerator and begins pulling out ingredients.
“You cook?” I ask, amazed.
“Sometimes,” he says over his shoulder.
“I thought there was a kitchen staff?” I ask, leaning my elbows on the counter. I resist the urge to press my tits together just a bit for his benefit. He’s got a fine view of my cleavage as it is. I watch him take in the sight of my prized assets as he carries his bounty over to the stove.
“You’d be amazed how quickly things like servants become unnecessary,” he tells me, firing up the range.
“I wasn’t aware that servants were things,” I say primly, annoyed by his phrasing.
“You know full well what I mean, Miss Levy,” he says with a laugh. “What, you didn’t have servants growing up?”
“We...had some help,” I admit.
“I could have guessed as much,” he says. “I’m pretty good at reading people, you know.”
“Yeah?” I say, letting the corners of my mouth turn up in shameless flirtation. “What can you tell about me, Mr. Roth?”
He peers briefly over his shoulder as he drops some breaded chicken breasts into a skillet. The oil hisses and pops as he lets his eyes rake all over my body. I can practically feel his gaze lingering on my eager skin. An unmistakable pressure starts to build up just behind my navel, and my cheeks flush as I feel a sudden yearning between my legs. It’s a rare man that can make a girl wet while frying chicken, but I get the feeling that Mr. Roth is nothing if not rare.
“I can tell you come from money,” he says, turning back to his cooking. “But I can also tell that you no longer receive any financial aid from your family. You don’t have any siblings. You’re from somewhere on the East Coast. New England, if I had to guess. You didn’t go to an Ivy League school, but not because you couldn’t have gotten into one. You are not a young woman without life experience. There has been some trauma in your recent and distant past. I won’t be inconsiderate enough to venture a guess as to the nature of that trauma.”
I stare at him, bewildered by the accuracy of his assessment. “What, did you do a background check on me or something?” I ask.
“I’m just perceptive,” he says lightly, tossing some summer vegetables into the pan. “I used to make a living by reading people. I also perceive that you’re extremely empathetic and something of a romantic. Which is perfectly fine, of course. I don’t cast judgment.”
“How kind of you,” I say dryly.
“What, do you value your romanticism?” he asks, turning toward me with an arched brow.
“I like to find the beauty in things, yes,” I say firmly, “I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with wanting to appreciate the good that life has to offer, rather than focusing on the bad.”
“Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree on that point,” he says.
We lapse into silence as Lukas puts the finishing touches on his decadent snack. He plates the light dish onto a couple of fine china plates and joins me at the island. His arm brushes against mine as he sets my food down in front of me, and I have the inexplicable urge to bring my lips to his scruffy throat. His perpetual five o’clock shadow is wildly attractive, far more so that a clean shave or full beard could ever be to me.
“Thanks for this,” I tell him, taking up my fork.
“My pleasure,” he says, “I’d like for you to be comfortable here, Hannah.”
“I already feel very much at home. Very welcome,” I say, taking a bite. “Wow...This is delicious, Mr. Roth.”
“I picked up a few culinary tricks in Switzerland,” he tells me, bringing a bite to his own tantalizing mouth.
“Switzerland?” I repeat, “Is that where you were stationed?”
“Stationed?” he says quizzically.
“Weren’t you in the military?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
“Not exactly,” he says.
“I thought—”
“I told you that I worked for the government,” he corrects me, keeping his gaze averted.
“Oh...” I say, “In what, uh, capacity?”
He pauses for a long moment, taking a few bites of his light meal. For a moment, I worry that I’ve offended him to the point of ignoring me. But finally, he swallows and says, “I was a CIA operative for a while. But my work was—is—classified.”
“Wow...” I breathe. “I’ve never met anyone with an exciting job like that.”
“Exciting is not the right word for it,” he tells me, looking sharply into my eyes.
“Sorry,” I say, “It must have been...demanding. That kind of work is sure to take a lot out of your life.”
“It becomes your life,” he says quietly.
I raise my gaze to his, and sit still as he seems to study me.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s just...your eyes,” he mutters, peering at me intently. “They’re a lovely shade of green.”
“Th-thank you,” I stammer, recalling the gorgeous emerald eyes immortalized in the leather photo album. I suppose Mr. Roth has something of a type. Not that I’d mind being his type at all, in some alternate universe in which I didn’t work for him and his dying mother.
“I have a proposition for you, Hannah,” Lukas says, pushing his plate away.
“Oh?” I say, my heart slamming itself against my ribcage.
“The other nurse that we have on duty is a perfectly capable woman,” he begins, crossing his arms, “But Mother hasn’t taken to her the way she has with you. The two of you seem to understand each other quite well, and it’s obvious that she prefers you to the other woman we’ve employed. Let’s be frank for a moment, Hannah. My mother probably has a week, maybe two, to live. I know this is rather short notice, but I was wondering if you might consider coming on full time for a few weeks? It would mean the world to my mother. And to me.”
“Mr. Roth...” I breathe, the blood pounding in my ears, “I’m...honored that you would ask me to be here with you through this...difficult time. I...I’m sure that I can ask some of the other nurses to cover for me at the hospital, the ER has been slower these past few weeks actually.”
“Could you?” he asks, laying a firm hand on my bare forearm. It takes every ounce of self control that I possess not to fold into his arms.
“Absolutely,” I tell him.
“We have plenty of spare rooms,” he says, “You’ll be very comfortable here.”
“Spare rooms?” I say, “You mean...You’d want me to sleep here—?”
“24/7,” he says, “But of course.”
“Of course,” I murmur. “I’ll...fetch my things as soon as I can.”
“I'm thrilled," he says with a slight grin, "I'll pay you one year's salary for one month's work, just in case your employer happens to be less than flexible."
"Oh wow, that's very generous of you," I say, picking my jaw off the floor, "But I have plenty of paid time off, and my attendance has been perfect, I'll just tell my boss I need a few weeks off for personal reasons, she likes me well enough."
I see a slight smile spread across his face. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks, his eyebrow cocked slightly.
"I'm positive, it would be an honor and a privilege Mr. Roth," I say with a smile. "Besides, I need something to occupy my time right now."
I can't believe this is happening right now.
"But you should go now, while Mother is still asleep,” he urges, “I’ll be here if she wakes up.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Roth,” I tell him, rising to my feet. I linger in the kitchen doorway, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. Boldly, I turn back to him and draw a deep breath. “You know, Mr. Roth. If there’s anything I can do for yo
u personally, anything you’d like to talk about or work through...Well. I’m here for you too, you know. I’d be happy to listen.”
Lukas stares up at me, his dark eyes churning. For a moment, I’m afraid that he’s going to shout at me, fire me, banish me from the house. But instead, he simply nods. “Thank you Hannah. That’s very kind of you.”
I smile hurriedly and leave the room, dashing across the foyer and out to the garage. I can’t believe I’m going to be living here for the next couple of weeks, right under the same roof as Mr. Roth. Maybe being in such close proximity will reveal some of the mystery about him—some things he’s keeping under wraps. I get the feeling that I’ve barely scratched the surface of this fascinating man, and I know for sure that I’m eager to dig deeper.
Chapter Twelve
-Lukas-
Hannah’s rundown Volkswagen slips away around the bend as I make my way back up the stairs. I know that I should behave more professionally around her, but it’s difficult not to let my hands linger on her at every given opportunity. What’s a friendly touch, here and there? It isn’t as though I’ve cornered her in the library or done anything inappropriate, and she hasn't exactly pulled away yet.
Mother’s still sound asleep as I step into her suffocatingly warm room. I scowl at the photo albums scattered lazily around the room. What was she thinking, leaving these around for anyone to see? What if Hannah had gotten into them while Mother slept?
The notion of Hannah flipping through these testaments to my tragic past makes me grind my teeth furiously. I have no intention of letting my newest employee in on that irrevocably closed part of my life. That part of me is padlocked, dead bolted, and absolutely out of bounds. And my mother knows that full well.
I make my way over to the crackling fire and snatch up the leather photo album I spotted lying on the floor. My fingers brush against the smooth surface of the book, and a long-repressed longing threatens to resurface. I’ve had seven years’ worth of experience denying just this sort of feeling, and I know exactly how to disengage from useless grief and reflection. The past has no power over me. Not anymore.
With a deep breath, I open the album to its final page. My daughter’s blue eyes, the ones she got from me, shine out from the faded image. Even seven years of dusty neglect haven’t dulled that gaze of hers one bit. I peel the photograph off its page and quickly tuck it into my pocket. I’ve always liked that picture of my family—I’d say that it’s my favorite. But as for the rest...
Without pausing for a second thought, I toss the album into the crackling fire. The leather begins to blister at once, and the vile smell of burning ink and plastic brings a coughing fit down upon me. I hear the rustling of bedclothes behind me and scowl, knowing that my commotion has wrenched Mother out of her slumber. I turn just in time to see her eyes flutter open. At once, her face takes on a disgusted expression.
“If that’s some new cologne you’re trying out, I’ll save you some trouble—it smells like shit,” she says, wrinkling her nose.
“You’ve been holding out on me, Mother,” I say calmly, fingering the photograph in my pocket.
“What...?” she says quizzically. Then her eyes fall upon the fireplace and the new kindling that I’ve offered up to the flame. Her eyes well up, glinting in the firelight. “Oh, Lukas,” she whispers, “I’m sorry, darling. I know that you wanted them all destroyed, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. I just wanted a couple happy memories to hold onto.”
“Now, now,” I say, masking my guilt with impatience, “There’s no need to cry. I’m not upset with you. It’s perfectly human to want to hang onto the past.”
“What does that make you, superhuman?” she sniffs.
“Or subhuman. Who’s to say?”
“I was feeling nostalgic,” she tells me, pulling herself up to sitting. “I’ve outlived so many people, Lukas. Too many.”
“Not me,” I tell her, sitting down at the foot of her bed, “Unless you slip arsenic in my coffee soon, that is.”
“I hadn’t planned on it,” she laughs sadly, “But it would certainly match the trend if you went before I did. I’ve said goodbye to everyone that I care about in this world, Lukas. My father, my mother. My sisters. Your father, God rest his soul.”
“I know, Mother,” I say softly.
“But all of those, I could abide,” she says, her words quivering on the verge of sobs, “As painful as they were, I could have accepted them as part of life. But Andrea? Charlotte and Peter?”
“Don’t,” I warn, my voice gruff.
“You aren’t supposed to outlive the generation that comes after you,” she says, dissolving into tears, “You aren’t supposed to help bury your son’s wife. Or his...ch-children...”
My jaw tightens as Mother buries her face in her hands. I’m torn between wanting to comfort her and wanting to storm out of the room. I settle for sitting perfectly still while she releases the grief that’s pent up inside of her.
“This is why we don’t keep pictures,” I say quietly, “This is why we don’t discuss these things, Mother. Look what it does to you.”
“I can’t just pretend it never happened,” she weeps, “I’m not like you, Lukas. I can’t just quarantine an entire chapter of my life and never think about it again.”
“Why...not?” I say, through clenched teeth, “What good does it do, dredging it up like this? Does it make you feel better? Does it make you hurt less?”
“...No,” she admits, turning her tear-soaked face away from me. “Hand me my handkerchief, will you?”
I pass my mother a folded square of silk and watch as she dabs at her eyes. “I know what will make you feel better,” I say.
“That, is seriously doubtful,” she laughs coldly.
“I asked Hannah to come on full time. She’s getting her things now. I’m going to set her up in the annex, so she’ll always be on hand.”
Despite her assertions, Mother’s eyes brighten at the news. “That’s...lovely, Lukas. Thank you,” she says politely. “She’s a wonderful girl, isn’t she? She’d make, she does make, a very good companion.”
“I see where you’re going with this, Mother,” I say shrewdly, “Don’t get any dreamy ideas in that head of yours.”
“Whatever you say, darling,” she smiles wistfully. “Whatever you say.”
Chapter Thirteen
-Hannah-
“You’re where?” I ask into my cell.
Sophia shouts her answer over her noisy environment, “It’s an immersive art show. You have to wander through a recreation of the Trojan War to take the whole thing in.”
“That sounds intense,” I say.
“You have no idea,” Sophia replies, as someone starts shouting in Greek very close by.
“So listen to this,” I press on, guiding my buggy back toward Clarendon, “I’m going to be staying with the Roths for a little while. Lukas asked me to come on full time until...You know.”
“Holy shit!” Sophia cries, “You’re going to live there?”
“Yep,” I say, “God knows, there’s enough room for another house guest. Or twenty.”
“You’re going to be living under the same roof as that foxy ass boss of yours?”
“How do you know that he’s foxy?”
“Oh please,” Sophia scoffs, “I Googled his ass as soon as I saw how much you were digging him. I don’t blame you, by the way. Dude’s a class A babe.”
“That aside,” I say, “He really wants me to be with Gertrude around the clock. I couldn’t very well refuse him.”
“Nor should you. In any scenario,” she teases.
“It’s not like that,” I insist, “Even if I could get over my nerves about being with a man again, it would be totally inappropriate. He’s my boss.”
“Come on Hannah,” Sophia says, “I know you’re not as square as all that. What’s the use of living by some arbitrary rules when all they do is harsh your mellow?”
“Are you high or something,
Sophia?”
“Oh, as a kite, my friend,” she crows. “Look, I’ve got to go. They’re about to open the Trojan Horse, and I’m pretty sure they stuffed it with Trojan condoms. Should I grab you some to enjoy with Mr. Roth?”
“Goodbye, Sophia,” I say, tossing my cell onto the passenger seat. I can’t start thinking of Lukas that way right before I move into his home, after all. Well...not in any practicable way, at least. But harmless fantasies? That’s another story.
I realize that I should probably call my nurse manager and let her know that I won't be able to come in for a few weeks. I find her cell number in my phone and hit send. Thankfully she picks up after the second ring, sparing me the anticipation, I hate calling out.
"Hellooo?" My manager sings into the receiver.
"Hey Lynn, it's Hannah, I'm sorry to call you on your personal line but I need to talk," I say earnestly.
"I'm surprised to hear your voice Hannah, I don't think you've called out once since you started here, breaking the streak I take it?"
"Yeah I'm going through some personal things lately, with my family, you know...I don't want to get into too many details but I need a few weeks off, I'm really sorry." I say, holding my breath.
"Oh, if anyone understands family trouble it's me, and honestly we've been so slow at the hospital lately that upper management is going to force us to start cutting hours soon. So take all the time you need, seriously, you're a wonderful employee and a valuable member of the team and we need you to be 100%. Life happens Hannah."
"Thank you so much Lynn, I really appreciate it, I'll be back at the end of the month I promise, no worries I swear."
"Take care of yourself hun," she says, and hangs up.
Phew glad that's over with. Lynn is definitely getting a Christmas Card this year.
I let my mind wander as I sail toward home, happy to have something to occupy my mind other than nightmares and worries. My daydreams drift through the enormous Roth Estate. I imagine Lukas leading me through secret passages and hidden doorways, into the very most private corners of his home.
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