by Tina Folsom
Sophia reached for her and patted Alice on her arm. “No, that’s quite all right. You need a job, and I need a housekeeper and cook for the Bed and Breakfast.”
“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to—”
“Alice, please, no more apologies. Since I can’t read your resume, why don’t you tell me who you’ve worked for before? I seem to remember hearing that you worked for old Mrs. Winterbottom.”
Alice exhaled. “Yes, I kept house for Mrs. Winterbottom for over ten years. And then she died two years ago. You probably heard? Pneumonia. So when her heirs closed up the house and sold it, I got a job in a bakery up on Broad Street, but they closed only a few months later. After that I found another housekeeping job with old Miss Carlisle, but her kids put her in a nursing home. Real shame that was.”
Sophia nodded. She’d heard of Miss Carlisle, but hadn’t known her personally. “Do you cook and bake?”
“Sure do.”
“The cook here has to make breakfast and then bake cookies for afternoon tea. No dinner. Do you think you’d be up for that?”
“Wait here.” For a moment, Alice disappeared from the kitchen, then came back with a bag in her hand. She rummaged through it and pulled out something. When a lid opened, the sweet scent of freshly baked goods drifted into Sophia’s nose.
“Here, try this. I baked it last night.” Alice pressed a square piece of cake into her hand.
“What is it?”
“Bite into it and you’ll see.”
Sophia took a tentative bite, then let the melting chocolate flavor spread in her mouth. “Mmm, brownies.” She chewed, for a moment forgetting everything around her. This was the best brownie she’d ever tasted. She swallowed, then cleared her throat. “You’re hired.”
“Oh, thank you, Miss Baker, you won’t regret it.”
“Can you start tomorrow? There’s still lots to organize before we open.”
“Of course. I’ll be here at 7 o’clock.”
Alice turned, but Sophia stopped her. “And could you leave the rest of those brownies here?”
“Of course, Miss Baker.”
“Thanks, Alice, and please call me Sophia.”
“Miss Baker,” the voice of one of the workers came from the door, “you’re wanted upstairs by Triton.”
Sophia sucked in a deep breath and steeled herself. Now she would find out what the cause of the incidents from last night was.
***
Triton rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He’d barely slept because he’d been too worried about anything else happening to Sophia. He wanted to protect her—hell knew why. Instead of making love to her again when he’d taken her to his own bed after the ceiling fan had crashed onto hers, he’d merely held her in his arms all night. When had that ever happened to him? This wasn’t like him. When he spent time in bed with a woman, he was there to have sex, pure and simple. And what had he done? He’d cuddled! His friends had better not hear about that, or they’d make fun of him.
Strangely enough, he wanted to do it again. He wanted to spend the next night with Sophia in his arms, holding her, comforting her. Something was seriously wrong with him not having his godly powers.
Triton turned his attention back to Hermes and the plumber he’d brought in to look at the shower. After fiddling around with the taps, the man had taken the whole thing apart and looked inside. Then he’d inspected the shower door. A few grunts and mumbles later, and the plumber had given his verdict.
“Are you sure?” Triton asked.
The man fisted his hands at his hips. “’Course I’m sure. You wanna tell the lady, or should I?”
Triton closed his eyes. Already the electrician, another friend of Hermes, had checked out the ceiling fan and given his assessment. Now this. “I’ll tell her.” He nodded at Hermes who sent one of the workers for her.
“What will you do now?” Hermes asked him while they waited. Luckily, his friend had had the good sense to wear cargo pants which hid the wings of his sandals. Even though seeing him wear sandals at all looked rather ridiculous.
“What can I do? She needs me more than ever.”
“So you like her?”
Triton looked away. “None of your darn business.”
Hermes merely shrugged and continued, “Seeing she wasn’t able to sleep in her own bed last night, did you get any action?”
Triton grabbed Hermes by his shirt before the messenger god could even react. “What part of none of your darn business do I have to translate into Greek for you?”
“Triton,” Sophia’s voice came from the door.
He instantly dropped his hold on Hermes and walked to her, taking her hand into his. “Come, Sophia.”
“Have they looked at everything?”
Triton nodded. “Yes. The plumber checked out the shower, and the electrician took the fan apart.” He hesitated.
“And?” Triton felt her anxious energy. He looked at Hermes and then the plumber, at a loss of how to tell her.
“There’s nothing wrong with the shower,” the plumber blurted. Hadn’t they just agreed that Triton would tell her the unexpected news?
“But—”
“I couldn’t find a thing wrong,” the man continued. “Yeah, sure, the taps are a little tight, but I think you just panicked.”
A frown spread over Sophia’s face. “And the door? I couldn’t get it open.” Her grip on Triton’s hand tightened.
“A little sticky, sure. I’ll adjust the hinges a little for you.”
“Triton,” she pleaded, “tell him you had problems opening the door too. Tell him.”
“I told him already.”
“Sorry,” the plumber said again, “but I couldn’t find anything wrong with the door.”
Triton watched as Sophia’s face changed. A haunted look flashed over her face. “And the fan?”
Hermes cleared his throat. “The electrician couldn’t find anything amiss with the fan either. He thought it was just a freak accident.”
“But didn’t you show him the blades, Triton? They were metal and painted to look like wood. That can’t be right.” Her pleading tone seeped under Triton’s skin, and he cursed himself for planting worry in her the night before.
“I was wrong. Maybe it was the shock last night, and I didn’t look properly, but they were wood. It was your old fan, not a new one.” Triton tried to shake off his uneasiness about the situation. He himself had thought otherwise the night before. He’d been convinced the fan was brand-new and made of metal. How he could have made such a mistake could have only been a result of his love-drugged—no, lust-drugged—state.
He pulled Sophia away from the plumber and Hermes, feeling the need for privacy. “Sophia, we were both occupied with other things last night,” he whispered only for her to hear. “I think neither of us was thinking clearly. We both overreacted. Accidents happen, and with all the work that’s going on in the house, some things are bound to go wrong.” He was trying not only to convince her, but also himself. Something still felt wrong about it, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Short of calling the plumber and the electrician incompetent, there was no way to dispute their findings, or lack thereof.
“But last night, you were there. You saw what happened.” She sounded close to tears, and it tore at his heartstrings. He pulled her into his arms, but a moment later she pushed back. “You think I’m hysterical, don’t you?”
He didn’t know how to reply to her. The thought had never crossed his mind. Instead he was wondering whether he himself was turning crazy, considering how he’d misjudged the events of last night. Before he could find the words to explain this to her, she stormed out of the room.
“Sophia!” But she didn’t halt her step and continued.
He wanted to run after her, but Hermes put his hand on his forearm. “Wait. In the mood she’s in, she won’t listen to you anyway.”
“Since when do you know anything about women?” Triton bit out, angry not at Herme
s but at himself.
“There’s no need to insult me. I’m just trying to help.”
“Oh yeah? Well, if you’re really trying to help, then why don’t you try and figure out why I had trouble shutting off the hot water too, and why it was hard to open the shower door. And while you’re at it, tell me why I thought last night that the fan came on by itself and why the blades felt as if they were metal, not wood.”
Without waiting for Hermes’ reply, he went after Sophia.
When he caught up with her, he found her in the second floor hallway just as a young black man walked up the stairs. “Miss Baker?” he asked.
Triton looked at the man and recognized him. Oh, damn, the shit was just about to hit the fan. And he was standing right in front of it.
Twenty-Eight
Sophia looked at the tall dark figure approaching her. “Yes? I’m Miss Baker.”
The man moved closer, his booted feet grinding against the dust on the wooden floor. This had better not be another salesman trying to convince her she needed an expensive marketing brochure or a fancy sign out the front. Right now she couldn’t deal with it when all she could think of was whether she was going crazy. She had panicked in the shower, yes, but after she’d been unable to turn off the hot water. And now they all made it sound like she was hysterical, that she’d all made it up. Even Triton. Not even he believed her now.
“The agency sent me.” The man’s words didn’t register at first.
“What agency?” Had she forgotten yet another appointment?
“Executive Home Healthcare. I’m here to start my assignment,” he elaborated.
Sophia shook her head. “There must be a mistake.”
“Why don’t you let me handle this?” Triton’s voice came from the stairs. She looked into his direction, seeing his silhouette approach. “You look tired. I’ll bring you something to eat and drink in the garden.”
But Sophia wasn’t in the mood to listen to him right now. Sitting in the garden wouldn’t calm her mind. “It’s all right, Triton. I can handle this.” Her words came out sharper than she’d intended. She knew he didn’t deserve it, but she couldn’t stop herself from reacting this way. He’d given into the plumber’s assessment without protesting, without supporting her. At least that was what it felt like to her.
“What does the agency want? As you can see, they already sent somebody last week.” She pointed toward Triton. Or had Triton asked for a transfer? As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she felt an uncomfortable stab in her chest. Was he leaving her? He’d gotten up early this morning. What if he’d called the agency to terminate his employment with her?
“Last week?” the man asked, his voice colored with confusion. “But we only got the call from you yesterday afternoon.”
“No. I’m sorry, but I’m sure somebody at your office must have mixed this up. I was released from the hospital a week ago, and the agency sent Triton a day later.”
“Miss Baker, that’s impossible. We got the call yesterday, and—”
“I would know if I called the agency yesterday, believe me.”
“But,” the man started again.
“As you can see, there must have been some misunderstanding at the office,” Triton interrupted.
Sophia nodded. “I’m sorry that they inconvenienced you, but I—”
“On which date were you released from the hospital, Miss Baker?” the terse voice of the man interrupted.
She let out an exasperated breath. Fine, she’d humor him for another minute. “On the twenty-ninth.”
“Miss Baker, today is the thirtieth, so you came home yesterday, and you requested a healthcare worker for today.”
“I don’t know who you are, but today is not the thirtieth, today is the sixth,” she replied.
“What?” The man’s voice was a gasp.
“Clearly, you’re a week late. So would you please leave,” Triton added.
There was a short pause, before the man replied, pointing at Triton, “Miss Baker, may I ask: who’s this guy who claims to be your home healthcare worker? I sure have never seen him at the agency, and trust me, I know everybody there.”
Sophia’s heart stopped. A moment later, she fought for air. This couldn’t be happening.
“Sophia, clearly this man is a fraud. Let’s get him out of here.” Triton put his hand on her arm.
“I’m no fraud. Here. Here’s my ID.” She saw him shove a piece of paper toward her. She had to know what it said.
“Charlie? Where are you?” she called out. He appeared moments later.
“What can I do?” Charlie asked.
“Would you please tell me what this man’s ID says?”
“Jonathan Matthews, Certified Home Healthcare Provider, and then some dates, and the company name: Executive Home Healthcare.”
“Thanks Charlie, that’ll be all.” She braced herself against the wall and looked in Triton’s direction.
“Mr. Matthews, are you sure this man doesn’t work for Executive Home Healthcare?” She almost choked at her words.
“I’m sure.”
“Sophia, I can explain,” Triton said as he placed his hand on her arm. She shook it off. He’d lied to her. He wasn’t who he’d said he was. Michael’s words came back to her. Had her cousin been right for once?
“Who are you?” She stepped away from him. He’d come to her home, a stranger, and not only had she let him into her house, she’d let him into her bed. And she knew nothing about him. What did he want? What evil scheme had he planned?
“Please, we need to talk—alone, just you and me. I can explain everything.”
Alone? “How stupid do you think I am? Why would I be so crazy as to agree to be alone with you?” She tried to push back the memory of their intimacies of the night before. He knew when he saw a good thing, he’d said then. It was so obvious now what he’d meant by that. “What are you? Some con artist who scams lonely and vulnerable women, makes them trust you so you can fleece them?” Which didn’t make him one iota better than Michael.
“No, Sophia, no. I never had any intention of hurting you,” Triton claimed, his voice just as agitated as hers. Well, at least he was a good actor, because acting was all this was.
And she’d been so stupid. And this time it hadn’t even been a pretty face, for Triton was still faceless to her, just a silhouette whose facial features she couldn’t discern. And right now, she was thankful for it. At least she would have no memory of his face. Maybe it would be easier to forget him.
“Get out! Get out now and take your friends with you,” she yelled, knowing her tears weren’t far behind.
“I need you and you need me.”
“No. I don’t need somebody like you. A liar and a cheat. And for all I know, a psychopath. You’d better leave now before I call the police and have them arrest you.”
“Please don’t do this. Give me a chance to explain.” Triton stepped closer, but Sophia backed away.
“Here’s your chance: explain it now, right here.”
“Not in front of other people.”
“Ha! I knew it. You think you can sweet-talk me when we’re alone. How stupid do you think I am? I might be slow in catching onto you, but I’m there now, and I don’t make the same mistake twice.” Well, sometimes she did, but she swore that this time she wouldn’t. No, this time she knew this would turn out really bad.
“I’m leaving now, but believe me, I’ll be back when you’re ready to talk.”
“Don’t threaten me.” Sophia gripped the banister for support, her knees close to buckling.
“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. I will come back, and you will listen to what I have to say to you. Alone.”
With those words, Triton turned and dashed down the stairs. A few seconds later, the entrance door slammed.
Sophia’s knees weakened, and she would have fallen, had the healthcare worker not grabbed her and supported her.
“I really can’t say enough how sorry I
am, Miss Baker, but I have no idea what happened. I don’t understand how I could have lost an entire week without any memory of it. Something is seriously wrong here. And frankly, considering that this man you called Triton was able to infiltrate here and pretend to be me, I think we should talk to the agency and report this to the police. I don’t do drugs—there’s no way I could have just had a blackout for an entire week.”
“Mr. Matthews—”
“Jonathan,” he corrected her.
“Jonathan, I don’t know what happened. But I don’t want to deal with the police right now. Can you understand that?” All she wanted was to forget, not to be reminded of how Triton had lulled her in.
He nodded. “I understand. But we’ll get to the bottom of this. I have to know what happened during that week. In the meantime, why don’t I get you a coffee and you sit down for a moment?”
***
Triton looked up at the clouds. The sky looked ominous, and he could already smell the scent of rain in the air. Soon it would come pouring down. The wind had already taken up speed and whipped the trees, which framed the cobblestone street.
Dionysus was in for a tongue lashing as soon as Triton found his sorry ass. What had gotten into him, letting the healthcare worker out of his clutches so prematurely? Just when everything had started falling into place.
Since it was daytime, Triton dispensed with searching for Dionysus in his usual drinking establishments and went straight to the studio where his friend had let him crash during those first few weeks in Charleston. Apparently Dionysus kept bachelor pads in many earthly cities for convenience. Figured that a simple palace on Olympus wasn’t enough for the drunkard and philanderer.
Triton jerked the door to Dionysus’ apartment open, lifting it straight out of its hinges. At least he still had his physical power, which would come in handy when he decked Dionysus with his fists.
“You drunken, no good, unreliable son-of-a-god—”
Triton halted his tirade when he spotted Dionysus lying on the floor of the living room—bloodied and beaten.
“Shit!”
Triton crouched down next to his friend. He didn’t have to feel for a pulse—Dionysus was immortal, and while he could feel pain and be injured, he couldn’t die. At least this one fact was for certain.
