SAFEHOUSE

After dealing with a cranky Marie all morning, I checked the clock in the kitchen, sighing with relief when I realized that it was almost noon. Julien would be around here at some point soon asking me to come along with him. To where, I had no idea.

Gervaise went ahead and cooked me a small lunch, without me even having to ask. It was nice knowing that at least the chef liked me.

I sat down at the table, trying hard not to completely devour my meal. It was true what everyone said about French chefs; they were the absolute best.

As the minutes ticked by, I had to wonder where Julien was. Usually he was down here by this time, telling me about his morning, while grabbing a cup of coffee.

Gervaise noticed me looking at the time, and cleared his throat. “Ah, mademoiselle. Monsieur Malveaux not coming today. Il est dix-huit Juin,” he said, starting in on his French again.

I thought about it, and realized that he gave me the date. “Dix-huit Juin? Is that today’s date? Today?”

He nodded.

“What happens today?”

He shrugged, shuffling off to another corner of the kitchen to busy himself with something else. That was weird.

I finished up my food, wishing I knew where Julien was so I could ask him. Was something going on today that I had missed?

Without Julien pulling me from my work, I went to find Marie and see what else needed to be done. I was still trying to figure out the schedule, which seemed a bit all over the place to be honest. But when she pointed me to the right place I generally knew what I was doing. For the most part.

I figured I would start in one of the upstairs guestrooms that I had last seen her in. I scoped out the entire long hallway, still not finding her. A noise came from upstairs, startling me. What could that be?

The thing about dealing with PTSD is that you never knew when something will trigger you. I was very cautious as I climbed the next set of stairs, keeping my ear out. It sounded like someone was yelling loudly, maybe even singing. What the hell?

Before I had a chance to further investigate, Marie came rushing out of the room at the end of the hallway. Her face was completely flushed, and she looked seriously pissed. I didn’t know whether to ask her what was going on, or whether to get out of her way.

She paused when she saw me standing there, trying to collect herself.

“Is everything okay? What was all that noise I heard?”

She huffed impatiently, waving her hand about. “No concern. We go back to work,” she insisted, walking right past me.

Seriously? That’s the kind of answer someone who’s hiding something would give. I wanted to wait until she was out of earshot to have a look myself, but something told me not to. I realized where exactly we were in the house, and that made me even more curious. As far as I knew, the room that she had just left was actually Julien’s.

Marie always insisted that she personally cleaned Julien’s room, so I had never actually seen it before.

Once I got back to working down the second floor main hallway, I’d debated on whether I should go up and check on Julien or not. I didn’t even know if he was actually in his room or not, but I hadn’t seen him anywhere else in the house.

Dinner time had rolled around, and I was left again to eat by myself in the kitchen. Even Gervaise was making himself scarce for the night. It was eerily quiet, and my imagination was trying to get the best of me again. I didn’t want to drive myself crazy so I headed back to my room, deciding to call it an early night. Maybe I would see Julien tomorrow. Then he would probably explain what the deal was.

I had finally drifted off to sleep when I heard the knock at my door. It was so soft that at first I thought I had just imagined it, but when I heard it again I looked over, trying to read the time on my phone.

10:18? Who needs me this late?

I hesitated to get up, but I looked around the room to see if I could grab something to defend myself with… just in case.

The next knock was even louder this time. Giving up on finding a makeshift weapon, I slowly opened the door.

It was Julien.

He looked… well… he looked like a hot mess. His usual clean-shaven face was long forgotten, a layer of stubble already in its place. His hair had not been styled for the day, giving him an unruly look. He had on a pair of low-slung jeans that were desperately in need of hemming. The most startling of all was the fact that he was shirtless, giving me a very close and personal look at his chest. Just as I had imagined he was lean yet toned everywhere else, leaving a slight definition to his abs and hip bones.

He gave me a petulant look, his eyes completely glassed over. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Was he drinking?

Given his intoxicated state, I tried desperately not to ogle him with my eyes. “Is everything okay? You seem a little… drunk.”