“Master Kian is extremely generous,” Aisling says. But then, she’s biased.
I put away my shocked expression and set the sneakers back down. Then I pick out a pair of soft blue jeans and a fitted black tank top. Everything is exactly my size. I decide not to think about what that might mean.
Once I’m dressed, Aisling and I venture through the house. She explains each room to me as we pass by it. Sometimes, we walk in and take a closer look around, but mostly, we just walk past and gander.
She’s right. The mansion is huge. I can’t help but feel intimidated by the sheer size of it. I’ve never stayed anywhere this big or luxurious before. My whole life has been spent on the run. Never more than a few months at any one place. Not that any of our homes were worth lingering in.
“How many bedrooms does this place have?”
“Fourteen,” Aisling replies. “But that includes the staff quarters.”
I raise my eyebrows, but decide not to comment.
“There’s also a tennis court, a basketball court and a swimming pool,” she adds.
“Is that all?” I say with a laugh. “What a dump.”
“There’s a cinema on the second floor if you ever want to watch a movie.”
“You’re kidding.”
She nods with a bright-eyed smile that makes her youth all the more prominent. “It’s even got a popcorn machine and a vending machine that serves chocolate bars.”
I shake my head. “Somehow, I can’t picture Kian using that room at all.”
She gives me a strange look. “Actually, he spent most of last summer in that room,” she tells me.
“Really?”
Aisling nods. “His niece came from Ireland to visit him. He likes to spend quality time with her.”
The more I learn about Kian, the harder it is for me to hate him. Is this the reason he’s given me freedom of the mansion? To keep peeling back the image of him I have in my head?
“He’s close to her, huh?”
“Very,” Aisling replies.
“How old is she?”
“About twenty now, I’d say.”
I raise my eyebrows, stunned by that piece of information. When Aisling had mentioned a niece, I’d been imagining younger kids. Definitely pre-pubescent. But she’s only five years younger than I am. The age gap between Kian and me does weird things to the butterflies in my stomach.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, wondering if I should risk it at all.
“Of course, Renata.”
“I can trust you, can’t I?”
“Of course,” she says. Her smile is so genuine that I actually believe her.
“Kian told me that he was involved with a woman a few years ago. Would you happen to know anything about that?”
She frowns a little. “I’m afraid that was before my time here,” she says. For a second, I’m not sure if I should believe her.
“Oh. Right.”
So far, I haven’t been able to sniff out a single lie that Kian told me. Which suggests that maybe actually did tell me the truth.