The Insiders (The Insiders Trilogy 1)
She waved me in, going to sit behind a desk that was piled high with paperwork.
This was obviously Marie’s place, and after meeting her at Kash’s villa, I expected to find an office room that was pristine and clean. Instead, her own desk was filled with papers and files. A counter was in the corner, filled with goodies and candy. Vanilla cake on a platter. There was a large table in the middle of the room, where crafts had been started and left behind. A pile of beads were spread out over one end, with wires next to it as a bracelet, half made, was abandoned. In another corner were three gaming chairs on the floor. A PlayStation was hooked up beneath a television, the consoles resting on the floor between the chairs and TV. A bag of chips was scrunched down between two of the chairs.
She had filing cabinets in another corner, covered in picture frames.
A half wall jutted out so I couldn’t see what was on the other side, but the back of a desk chair had been rolled out.
The room was large, more resembling an elementary school classroom than the office of someone who managed the staff at Peter Francis’s estate.
“Come in, come in. Shut the door.” She waved at me, impatiently.
I sat on the chair across from her desk, sinking into it.
She was watching me, already riffling through some of her papers, and the ends of her mouth were pulled in. I tried not to feel her disapproval, but it was hard. It washed over me like a hot wave of embarrassment.
She motioned around the room behind me. “That’s for the children. They like to come in and spend time here.”
“Cyclone and Seraphina?”
“Cyclone.” She was nodding as she spoke. “Seraphina, if she can sneak away from Victoria or her mother. And some of the other women bring their children if they’re sick or school is closed. The master and mistress are very accepting if the staff don’t have day care options in case of an emergency.” She waved around her office again. “They come in here. We call in a day care worker if there’s enough children, but you are right.” Her eyes paused on me, looking over a piece of paper. “It’s mostly Cyclone, and if he has a friend over at times. His parents like him to have friends here. Seraphina too, but her friends prefer her own wing rather than in here.”
Jesus. Wing.
I heard the fondness and pride.
She was proud of what she did at this estate, of who she worked for, or perhaps of what she did for the children. She provided a sanctuary for these children, and that was important to her.
She waved to the partition behind me. “There’s a desk behind that. That’s for you.”
“Me?”
“As soon as Kash informed me you were coming, I had maintenance bring up a desk for you. It’ll be your spot for when you are inside the estate home. I called after seeing you at the villa and they’re bringing up a computer as well. It might already be there, but you can check later. Now…” She was done with her paperwork, putting it all aside and fixing me with a direct stare. “Let’s discuss you.”
I swallowed, not getting a good feeling from how she said that. “Me?”
“You.” And she narrowed those eyes at me. “You are going to be a problem.”
Those were the words every illegitimate daughter longed to hear.
And, feeling like a smartass, I smiled. “Please elaborate.”
She fixed me with a look, her mouth flattening even further. She was not amused.
I tried to make my smile more sincere. “Pretty please?” Was that better? Then I just sighed on the inside. Kash was right earlier. I was fighting being here, but could he blame me? Could anyone? But that wasn’t her problem. That was mine. That was my f—that f-word. She was just doing her job.
I sat up straighter in my chair and rolled back my shoulders. “Okay. Lay it on me. Tell me how to not be a problem for you, and I’ll do the best I can.” I bobbed my head up and down. “Promise.”
Her mouth pursed together and she moved her head, giving me a side-eye. She blinked, slowly, and rotated her face to look at me square again.
“Okay.” She laid her hands down on her desk, folding them together. “You want to not be a problem for me?” She didn’t wait a beat. “You should go home, go back to where your mother is, and not contact Mr. Colello or Mr. Francis again.”
I stand corrected.
Those were the words every illegitimate daughter longed to hear.
THIRTEEN
“Excuse me?” I pretended to clean out my ears. I hadn’t heard that right, had I?
“You heard me.” It was like she could read my mind. She fixed me with a steely glare. It wasn’t a full glare, but it wasn’t a stare.