Trinity scoffed. “More like your ticket back to dick town, population of one brooding author. Two swollen, blue balls.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “This isn’t about Sebastian. And besides, that would mean dick town has a population of three. Not one.”
“Four, really,” Lance said. “Assuming Kenzie is going to move there.”
Trinity groaned. “Yeah, well, I think you’re full of it, Kenzie. When people have healthy not relationships with other people, they don’t usually bring them up every other day for four months.”
“I did not bring him up every other day,” I said. “I brought him up like once a week.”
“Completely healthy and normal behavior,” Trinity said.
“Well, I don’t really need to convince either of you about anything. I’m doing this for my own reasons, and that’s that. But, uh,” I said, hesitating. “Will both of you promise not to tell Travis a word of what I’m doing? I have a really bad feeling he’d somehow weasel his way into all of this. And you know how he is with weird animals. I have an even worse feeling he’d practically fall in love with Mr. Meatball.”
Lance laughed. “Travis will absolutely show up at Sebastian’s house the moment he finds out.”
“If he finds out,” I corrected.
Trinity gave me a dry look. “If? We all know your brother. He’s totally going to find out.”
“Well,” I said. “The longer it takes for that to happen, the better.”
14
Kenzie
Sebastian wasn’t supposed to be back for two more days, which gave me plenty of time to get things figured out. The driver dropped me back off with my things and helped me bring them in through the front door. Mr. Meatball was happy to be free of his carrier. He did his creepy cat yells at me until I realized he wanted his harness off. He still scratched and punched at me while I wrestled it off. Once he was free, he cat-walked with his tail held high and proud toward the kitchen.
Jasper, Sebastian’s “not butler” approached me once I came inside. He was short, adorable with thick and crazy eyebrows and a round face. He had on his same little suit that made him definitely look like a butler. If he had on white gloves, it would’ve been a dead-on match.
“I have to ask,” I said. Jasper had brought me lunch and brushed by me at various points yesterday. He’d so far managed to avoid having to speak to me, but I was about to fix that. “Do you view yourself as a butler, or…”
Jasper’s serious face split into a huge, adorably shy smile. “I wouldn’t presume to flatter myself with a title so grand, Miss.”
My eyebrows shot up. “So you want to be seen as a butler? What does Sebastian call you?”
“My father was a butler. His father before him was a butler too. We Cummings men have a long history of dignified service to extraordinary men. Unfortunately, the trade of butlering has come under some scrutiny and it’s more acceptable to call me by other names. Such as the executive staff manager,” he said, twisting his lips as if the words tasted unpleasant.
“To me, you’re a butler.”
His smile widened and his cheeks went red. “Miss, that’s very sweet of you.” He’d seemed about as energetic as an elderly turtle, but now he was visibly humming with energy. He grabbed my things, then raised a serious eyebrow in my direction. “Well then. We should be getting you to your rooms, shouldn’t we?”
I smiled at his back as he hustled through the house, leading me to my new room. For an older man, he was spry on his feet and showed no sign of struggle making it up the stairs with my bags.
“So,” I asked as I followed behind him. “Sebastian is your boss, right? How is it? Working for him, I mean.”
“Mr. St. James leaves me alone and pays me well. I can’t complain. Well,” he added under his breath once he reached the top. “I can and do complain, actually. But I’m a surly old bastard. I’d complain if Michelle Pfeiffer was my boss and she walked around in a swimsuit all day.”
“What would you complain about in that scenario?” I asked.
Jasper turned to give me a dirty, hilarious look over his shoulder. “Her conservative choices in clothing.”
I laughed. “If you think Sebastian dresses too conservatively, try hiding in the bushes on his patio some time. You’ll get an eyeful.” And an earful.
Jasper sputtered with laughter. “Please, Miss. No. My complaint with Mr. St. James is that he’s entirely too solitary. This big house should be full of voices and laughter. Most days, it’s only Mr. St. James’ footsteps pacing in his office and that terrible cat yowling. I do worry about him. But if I may be so bold to say it, he has seemed happier ever since you arrived.”