She seems to hear Cade’s words a few seconds late. I see the moment they land. Her eyebrows go up, eyes widening, and her shoulders tense. If I hadn’t been staring at her all this time, I might not have caught it. She begins to lift her hand but catches herself. “Not the west hall, though?”
Kam speaks up, his tone calm, “Everything in the west hall is untouched. Every room up there is just how you left it, Eleanor.” Although his outward appearance is at ease, his grip tightens on the back of the stool. So tight, I can see the whitening of his knuckles from here. Kam’s glance flickers to Cade when he adds, “I gave explicit instructions.”
Heat trickles down my shoulders. Cade confirms nothing has been touched in that wing. We don’t have access to it and neither will Eleanor.
Relief is exhaled along with her response. “Good.” She mouths the word more than she says it. Eleanor crosses both arms loosely over her belly. She’s still not comfortable—who would be?—but the fearful shine that flashed in her eyes is gone. Easing the tension out of my shoulders, I note that I’m left with more questions than anything after this meeting. So many that I consider reading the file. The idea lingers in the back of my mind.
“Let me walk with you upstairs?” Damon offers with an easy smile. He’s muscular, as we all are, and the kind of guy you want to have in an emergency. I would know. He’s helped me before.
Eleanor doesn’t quite smile back, but she looks like she might simply to be polite. When Damon steps to her side she moves along with him, the two of them striding past her manager, who trails a few steps behind. He’ll take her through the great room and into the foyer, and then they’ll climb the herringbone steps.
Besides my brother, I’m closest to Damon. He’s the one friend I could count on without fail in the last four years. Damon’s a good conversationalist but given her sore throat, he’s also comfortable with silence. There won’t be a second of awkwardness between them.
Friendship doesn’t do a damn thing to ease the possessive knot that coils my muscles as I watch him lead her away. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to look anywhere else.
This isn’t like me. I’m not jealous, and I never have been. Let alone the unethical thoughts that have run rampant since I first laid eyes on her. Excuses come to mind and pile up, the most obvious being the call I took first thing this morning and how much that fucked me up.
Dane and Silas call me over to where they’re standing, more than likely discussing the schedule and their thoughts of our new client. Holding up a finger and then the empty water bottle, I silently motion to the kitchen as if I need to throw away the trash before talking to them.
In the bright light of the kitchen, I steady my thoughts and my breathing.
It must be because Eleanor is not well. It makes her seem delicate. In need of protection.
Or in need of someone to take control.
All damned good explanations for why I feel like sprinting up the stairs after them, and for the same reasons I stay where I am, my mind shuddering away from the possibility.
I shake it off and come back to the task at hand. Cade has joined the other two men in front of the fireplace. I don’t think any of them have noticed how scattered my thoughts have been. Or how the majority have been focused on Eleanor in a way they shouldn’t. They’ll notice if I keep this up, which I don’t intend to do.
“Have you had a chance to read through the file?” Cade asks me as I join their circle.
“No. I’ll get to it.”
Cade doesn’t push me on the lie. It wouldn’t matter if he did. I want to hear her side of things. I want her to tell me what the hell happened to her.
Ella
The Firm will provide for all necessary modifications pertaining to the security and comfort of each client. These may include, but are not limited to, home renovations and the installation of complete monitoring systems. Modifications are subject to change as the service progresses.
My eyes burn as if I didn’t sleep at all. Which doesn’t make much sense given that last night I slept the most I have in months. It was off and on and took hours before sleep came for me, but still. I slept. A dreamless sleep, thankfully.
I’m busy rubbing my eyes when I hear heavy footsteps walk into the kitchen. I’m grateful my back is to whomever it is so they don’t see the exasperation in my expression.
I’m grateful to be out of the center, grateful for my own bed and an ounce more privacy, but I’d like a moment from under the shadow of these strangers.