The Boss (Chateau 3)

The door opened without a knock. My eyes immediately glanced up to see Melanie standing there, wearing a beautiful dress and heels with a sparkling necklace and bracelet, her hair straight and shiny, her makeup ready for a formal event.

She kept one hand on the door as she stared at me, trying to gauge my mood.

That was pretty easy to do—since I was always angry.

She took the risk and stepped farther into my office, scanning the elegant room as she approached my desk, her heels were muffled on the rug and then loud against the hardwood floor as she made her way across. She stopped in front of my desk, her fingertips fidgeting together at her waist, having an elegant poise that I found so attractive. Even when she was in the clearing, she had this graceful posture that gave her an unspoken power despite her situation. She was both confident and timid at the same time…especially around me.

I waited, in the exact same position as I’d been in before, except my eyes were on her instead of the screen that required my attention.

“Will you have lunch with me?”

I ate lunch alone, right here at my desk, so I could keep working. My dinner was usually enjoyed in the same way. I hardly ever dined with anyone except at social events, and without company, there was no reason to sit alone at a dining table, my thoughts my only conversation. I didn’t want to spare the time to eat with her now, but when her appearance was so hypnotic, it was difficult to say no. I could stare at a bright screen with spreadsheets and emails, or I could stare at the most perfect thing ever created. My only answer was a nod.

We sat at the dining table in the garden room, where the windows showed the rose bushes and tulips. The different seasons gave birth to different kinds of flowers, so new ones were constantly cycled in to mask the dead ones. Right now, the pink roses were in full bloom despite the winter season. It was a clear day, so the sun came through and highlighted the water drops on the petals and leaves from the rain that came in the middle of the night.

She sat across from me, eating with proper manners Gilbert must have drilled into her, her back perfectly straight and off the padding of the chair. Lunch consisted of sandwiches, a salad, and a side of fruit, along with homemade bread.

Melanie must have enjoyed tea because Gilbert had placed a teapot in the center of the table and gave her a vintage teacup to enjoy it. He didn’t bother to bring me one because I only drank tea on formal occasions.

She ate quietly across from me, her eyes down most of the time, sometimes on the garden outside the window, which she clearly admired.

My eyes stayed on her the entire time, grabbing my sandwich without looking, taking bites as I took in her features for the hundredth time. It was the first time she and I had had a meal together. In her cabin, sometimes I would eat, sometimes she would eat, but never at the same time.

“How’s your day going?” She buttered a piece of bread with the homemade jam my pastry chef made then took a bite.

I wasn’t a fan of small talk, so I shrugged, doing the bare minimum to participate.

“You seem to work a lot.”

“What else is there to do?”

She stilled at the question and stared for a while, like she didn’t know how to answer that.

I picked up the other half of my sandwich and took a bite.

“What are you working on right now?”

I chewed my bite as I stared her down. “I don’t want to talk about work.” She would never understand any of it, and I wasn’t happy about the way things were going at the moment.

“Okay…” She took a drink of her tea. “Does your family live in Paris?”

I paused at the question momentarily, flashbacks playing across my mind. As much as I tried to scrub those memories from my brain, they were permanent. They didn’t live in Paris…but they were buried in Paris. And my father’s body had been thrown into the ocean, to be forgotten, not to be remembered by anyone. “I don’t want to talk about that either.”

Disappointment filled her eyes. “My father abandoned us after I was born. I don’t remember him.” She shared that information unexpectedly, like she just wanted to talk to me, even if I was only listening. “My mom raised us until she got sick…and then Raven took over.”

I finished the bite in my mouth as I listened. My eyes dropped for a moment as the clarity struck me. Raven was like me—taking care of her sister the way I took care of Magnus. Dead mothers and worthless fathers. “I’m sorry.”