“But it’s daytime,” she whined.
Skylar pulled the curtains closed in her bedroom, blocking out the sunlight. “I understand. But if you want to stay up and see Daddy tonight, you need to rest.”
“I’m not tired!”
It hadn’t taken long to realize Addison was used to getting everything she wanted and, often, spoiled as a supplement to actual structure. Skylar couldn’t work like that.
“Today we’re starting a new routine. This is quiet time. You can come down in one hour, and I’ll have everything ready in the kitchen so we can make dessert for tonight.”
Purple moons showed under her big brown eyes. Despite her objections, Addison slouched on her pillow. Her bedroom was decorated like something out of a magazine, giant plush animals spilling out of tiny chairs, a perfect tea set arranged for her dollies. Princess costumes hung from silk hangers, and her library was large enough to supply a school.
Skylar selected an old favorite from the shelf. “I love this story. How about we read it?” The book creaked as if it had never been opened and she wondered if the stories were as unused as the clothing in Addison’s closet.
Lowering to the mattress, she sat on the edge of the bed and drew the covers over Addison’s shoulders. “In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon…”
By the time she reached the middle of Goodnight Moon, Addison’s eyelids were heavy. She slowly blinked, listening to the story and fell asleep before the last few page when Skylar whispered, “Goodnight stars… Goodnight moon…”
She quietly shut the book and left it for Addison to look at later, then backed out of the dim room.
Skylar was grateful for the break. It gave her time to freshen up, explore the house, and get more oriented with her new home.
Creeping through the second floor, she peeked through doorways and mentally catalogued each room. She wondered why she wasn’t given one of the more luxurious guest rooms, but she supposed she was the help, and they wanted to keep their personal space private for the weekends and other family time.
At the end of the hall, where the master bedroom was located, she stood outside the tall double doors. She wanted to see what was on the other side, but knew this was Mr. Buchanan’s private space.
Her hand reached for the ornate handle and she paused. What if he had cameras?
She glanced at the ceilings and walls, not seeing any sort of surveillance. The house was old, so she didn’t suspect it was wired for top secret spying. And this was Jasper Falls, after all.
Turning the knob, the latch clicked open. Cool air swept over her face as she crossed the threshold and stepped into the shadows.
A masculine scent, mixed with traces of soap, clung to the air. The furniture was carved, heavy wood, and the linens were midnight blue. The walls, papered in a gold and navy demask, suited the room for a king.
In the corner, a cherry wood secretary desk stood open. Tiny compartments and drawers held stationary, but there wasn’t much paperwork scattered about. Just a notepad with an address scribbled on it, and a ledger of some sort. She scanned the numbers and frowned.
* * *
$1150 Rent
$425 Back Rent
$677 Medical
$82 Rx
$2,456 Collections
$96 Septa Pass
$82 Rx
$4,892 Brightview Treatment Center…
* * *
The list of expenses went on and on, but she didn’t understand who was charging such things. There were countless prescription charges and medical bills, and very expensive treatment centers. Was someone sick? Perhaps Mr. Buchanan’s parents?
* * *
She shouldn’t have come in here. Backing out of the room—
* * *
She paused, her gaze snagging on something familiar.
Drifting across the carpet, she stared at her scarf, neatly folded and resting on the corner of his night stand. The pillows still wore the indentation from his head. Why was her scarf in here?
It belonged to her. Should she take it?
* * *
She couldn’t, not without alerting him that she’d trespassed into his room. What was she doing?
Without touching anything, she quietly shut the door and turned—“Mr. Buchanan.”
* * *
Her heart plummeted to her feet and she gasped.
* * *
“Skylar?” His gaze trailed down her front, dropping to her hand.
* * *
She followed his gaze and regret squeezed her insides as she stared at her hand still holding the knob of his door.
6
Skylar’s bones seemed to shrink within her skin. It was as if her body was literally trying to implode through a blackhole and disappear. “I, uh, was looking for the towels.”
It was clear he knew she was lying. She saw the awareness in his eyes. He knew it. She knew it. There was no covering the truth. Caught snooping, red handed. Ugh, he should just fire her now and get it over with.
Crossing the hall, he opened the door to the laundry room and removed a stack of white fluffy towels from a basket. “Where’s Addy?”