“This is small as far as estates are concerned.” I got out of the car as a couple of our staff hurried towards us. I gestured to the trunk for them to get her bags. “It only has ten bedrooms.”
She snorted. “Only. Wow. I guess I'll have to slum it.”
This almost made me smile...almost. She had a sense of auto-derision I hadn't expected.
I looked at her as she unlocked the child from his seat. Did she really have to dress like a twelve-year-old?
I sighed. "Come on. Let's go inside."
"You’re sighing a lot, you know," she remarked as we walked up the wide stone steps to the house.
"I never used to. I guess that’s your effect on me." It was not a lie. She was aggravating me. Everything I had expected her to do, she'd done the opposite. It would have been so easy for her to just take the money. Why did she need to make it so difficult? What did she expect to win coming here? Trap me? I snorted internally. I was neither high or stupid. An overused, cheap, junky whore wouldn’t make my list of potential girlfriends. Or maybe she wanted to steal from me? I shook my head. Well, good luck with that one. I had cameras everywhere and I'd be making sure they were monitored closely.
As I took the stairs up to the first floor, I turned to warn her about the security system, but she was not beside me.
I turned around to find her still in the middle of the entrance hall, the child clutched closely to her chest as she took in the room in a sort of reverent awe you'd expect from an art lover visiting the Sistine chapel for the first time. It was not really for a middle-range mansion.
I detailed the hall as well. I had walked it thousands of times, so it didn't really register anymore. The old patterned wooden flooring, the high engraved ceiling, the portrait of my mother hanging proudly in the entrance - the last gesture of an old fool full of love and grief...
“Could you please move!” I snapped, colder than I'd intended. Thoughts of my mother often had this effect on me.
Startled, Opal looked at me, the hurt in her eyes evident. Ah, well, go show someone who cares...
“I have a conference call soon.” I most likely didn’t, but I was a busy man. It was possible.
“You have a conference call at night?” she asked curiously as she picked up the pace to meet me on the stairs.
Did she miss anything?
“Yes, I do. We’re a global company with a lot of responsibility. Much of it would go over your head," I added as I resumed my walk to the nursery.
“This is the child’s room,” I said, walking in. “And this is Ms. Reynolds, the live-in nanny I hired to ensure his needs are filled. “
“I’m here to fill his needs,” she replied with a glare. She turned to the nanny with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Reynold. I didn’t mean any offense.”
The nanny nodded. “None taken,'' she replied, but her pursed lips and tensed back said otherwise.
Opal stood in the middle of the room and looked around; the dozing child still held closely to her chest. It seemed like holding him brought her a sense of security, a comfort. How peculiar for a druggie to seek comfort with a child instead of drugs.
The room was state of the art, designed in all shades of white and pure lines by one of the most sought-after home designers. But Opal didn’t look impressed. Judging by the slight downward tilt of her mouth, I would even say she disliked it. What a strange bird.
I looked at my watch. I needed to get away from her. “Why don’t you leave him with the nanny and I'll show you to your quarters?”
Her hold on the child tightened and I knew I would not like what was about to follow.
“What do you mean? My quarters?” She pointed to the connecting door that was open and revealing an adjacent bedroom. “This will be my room.”
“No, it will be the nanny’s room.” I pointed to the austere woman who stood awkwardly by the crib. “Yours is in the east wing.” As far from me as possible.
She shook her head. “No, I'm staying with him. There will be no nanny. I told you before, Timmy is special. He needs me.”
“And I’m telling you that this nanny has gone through rigorous vetting. She is the best there is.”
She shrugged like it didn't matter one bit. “No one is better than his own mother.”
Debatable. I ran my hand through my hair in frustration. “Your room is far better, the top of luxury - TV, jacuzzi bathtub, fireplace. This room is bare and is only attached to a small shower room.” Luxury will work; it has to.
She shook her head again.
Damn it!
“You’ve seen where I live. This will be like a stay in the Hilton for me.”
“Oh, because you know the Hilton? I didn’t know they rented rooms by the hour.” That was a cheap shot, I knew it, and I felt a little scratch on my conscience when she blushed with embarrassment and threw a quick look at the nanny. “I’m staying with my child. I'm moving in there -” she pointed at the room - “and that’s final. You want me to prove I'm a fit mother, right? Or is this all a scam?”
She got me there. How could she be that quick to the draw? Hadn’t the drugs destroyed her brain in some way?
“Fine,” I sighed with rendition. “Ms. Reynolds, you haven't moved in yet, have you?”
“No, sir. I’m still in the servants' quarters.”
I nodded. Don’t worry, Lady, you'll move into this room before the month is up. “Perfect. You will stay there and assist Ms. Collins should she need assistance.”
“Very well, sir,” she nodded sharply. “Please ring if you need me, Ms. Collins, Mr. Beaumont,” she added before exiting the room, a scowl of reproach on her face.
“She hates me,” Opal stated when the door closed behind the woman, I guessed she wasn’t as clueless as I'd thought. I needed to reassess her and my plans because failure was not an option. I needed her gone.
“Can you blame her?” I asked, turning my back to her and exiting the room. “You’re taking her job away.”
“Please. You hired her when you thought I would just give him to you. A child needs genuine love and care. Timmy is not a ‘job.'” She followed me down the corridor and down the stairs again. “This is why I fought you so hard. You would not give him what he needs.”
I threw her a sideways look. “How selfless of you. The kitchen is through there. Our head housekeeper should be there. Let her know what you need and she will accommodate you.” I pointed to the heavy door down the corridor. It was my office - formerly my father's, which I'd redecorate as soon as I could to ensure that nothing reminded me of him. "I have to go now." I turned around, took a few steps away before turning around to look at her again. “Remember your contract. I’ll be sending someone to get your urine sample in the morning, and just so you know, there are cameras in every room in the house.”
She smiled. She had the audacity to actually smile. “Is that code for ‘don’t steal the china?'”
I pursed my lips. I wanted to lash out at her, release my frustration for every disturbance she was causing in my life, but I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t allow her to be the victim in this somber story. She would fall all by herself. I just needed time. Druggies failed, they always did.