A Matter of Trust

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A Matter of Trust Page 8

by Ciana Stone


  As she followed Louise through the house, Nikki was once again struck by how large and luxurious the mansion was. She couldn’t imagine ever being comfortable in such a place. She’d be scared to death she’d mess something up.

  Helen was finishing her coffee and croissant when Louise announced Nikki. “Ah, yes,” Helen patted her perfectly painted lips daintily with a linen napkin, leaving a red smear on the pristine white surface. “Nikki. How considerate of you to be on time, dear. I was just preparing to depart. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to go to Louise or Osgood.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Helen gathered up her purse and smoothed out her skirt as she stood. “Is the car ready?”

  Nikki didn’t know who Helen was addressing. A voice from the doorway let her know. The driver, Steve, was waiting. Having no idea what she was expected to do, Nikki stood rooted in place.

  Helen ignored her and looked at Louise as she started for the door. “Please tell Richard I’m leaving.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Weston.”

  Nikki watched everyone leave the room then looked around. “What now?”

  “I’d think the first order of business would be to get you settled in your suite.” Richard’s voice behind her made her jump.

  “Oh! Mr. Weston. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “That’s perfectly all right, my dear. Now, why don’t I show you to the guest suite?” He reached out and took her arm at the elbow.

  Nikki didn’t budge when he started for the door. “Uh, um, excuse me, but I believe your wife’s waiting for you. She just left with the driver and told Louise to let you know she was ready.”

  Richard’s finger moved on Nikki’s arm for a moment before he released her. “Yes, of course. Please, have Louise or Osgood show you to your suite. I’ll check in with you later.”

  “You— But I thought…”

  Richard chuckled at her dilemma. “Forgive me, of course you didn’t know. Business demands that I delay my departure for a week. Mrs. Weston is going ahead of me to make sure the staff has the villa properly prepared before she begins entertaining.”

  “Oh, well, should I go? I mean if you’re not leaving there’s no reason for me to be here.”

  “Nonsense. In fact, I think it’s much better that I be here for the first week of your stay. This way if you have questions you can come to me. And I do want you to feel free to do that. With anything at all.”

  Nikki was very relieved that he didn’t want her to leave. After the scene when she left the apartment, with Mr. Sprull yelling and threatening to have her arrested, there was no way she could go back there. And imposing on friends wasn’t an idea she relished.

  “Thank you. I really appreciate it. And I guess I’ll see you around.”

  Richard looked into her eyes for a moment. “Yes. Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I should bid Helen farewell.”

  Helen’s voice preceded her appearance into the room, “Richard!”

  Richard gave Nikki a shrug before answering, “Here, darling.”

  Helen stopped at the door, looked from Richard to Nikki and then back to Richard. Richard tilted his chin up slightly then took Helen’s arm and turned her back the direction she’d come.

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Weston,” Nikki called. “Have a wonderful time.”

  “If I ever get out of this house, I’m sure I will,” Helen tossed coolly over her shoulder.

  Nikki watched them leave, wondering if they even knew what fun was. The sounds of voices bidding farewell fell silent and suddenly it was like being in a museum after closing—a big empty building full of silence. With a small shudder, Nikki made her way to the kitchen to retrieve her bags.

  Osgood was waiting, as was most of the staff. After being introduced to everyone, Osgood told her that Mr. Weston had requested that Nikki be settled in the main house instead of the servant’s quarters.

  Nikki noticed the looks of surprise that generated from the rest of the staff, but didn’t comment. Osgood asked her to follow him.

  As they made their way upstairs and down a long hall, Nikki looked into the vacant rooms. “Where’s Maxwell’s room?”

  Osgood stopped to turn to her. “Maxwell has separate quarters in the west wing.”

  “Where’s that?”

  Osgood pointed to the opposite side of the house. Nikki considered it for a moment and made a spur of the moment decision. “Are there empty rooms in the west wing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would it be okay if I stayed there? That way I’d be closer to Maxwell.”

  Osgood seemed to hesitate for a moment then nodded. “Very well. If you’ll follow me.”

  The west wing was easily as large as the east, a full three stories. The ground level contained various sitting rooms, an enormous home theater, a billard room, bar, library, arboretum, as well as several enormous guest suites. Osgood showed her to one with a private entrance to the terrace.

  “Where’s Maxwell’s room?” she asked as she set her bags down beside the bed.

  “The second floor has been renovated for his use.”

  “Is it okay if I go up there?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “Would you like someone to help you fetch the rest of your belongings?”

  Nikki laughed at the question. “This is it.” She gestured to the worn luggage.

  “Very well.” Osgood moved to the door. “If you need anything, there’s a directory in the top drawer of the night stand with everyone’s extensions. Lunch will be served at precisely noon. You’re invited to dine with the Westons on the terrace. Until then, feel free to make yourself familiar with the house and grounds. Mr. Weston gave specific instructions that you’re to have exclusive use of all facilities.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Gaynor. I appreciate it.”

  “Certainly.” He turned to leave then stopped. “One more thing, Ms. Morgan. The third floor is off limits to everyone save the family.”

  “Oh, okay, but can I ask why?”

  “Mr. Weston’s father Simon inhabits the third floor and he dislikes being disturbed.”

  “All right, thanks.”

  She watched him leave then turned to the task of unpacking. With so few belongings, it didn’t take long. Nikki stowed her luggage in the massive closet and then walked out onto the patio and looked around. It was much too beautiful a day to be cooped up inside, and until Richard left there was no way she could snoop around. Maybe the best thing for her to do was face Maxwell right away so she could be sure she was over whatever infatuation she’d formerly felt.

  She went in search of him, wondering if he would seem any different at their second meeting. All of the doors on the second floor were closed. Having no idea which one was Maxwell’s, Nikki started at one end, knocking on each door. By the time she reached the last door her knuckles were sensitive.

  She could hear music from inside the room. She knocked softly and waited. There was no answer. She knocked again, a little louder. Again, no answer. Thinking that either he didn’t hear the knock or didn’t want to answer the door, she hesitated, trying to decide whether to try again. In the end, she decided not to. She was going to be there all summer, no need to push things.

  Nikki shoved her right hand into her pocket, touching the bag with the pendants as she turned to leave. A creak made her stop and look back. The door was ajar and Maxwell was looking out of the two inch crack. She walked back to the door and looked up at him. Their gaze met and locked. And fantasy took over.

  Nikki wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, a prisoner to his eyes, when she came back from yet another little foray into fantasy land. She just hoped that nothing was revealed on her face, particularly considering that the fantasy had been of a highly erotic nature.

  She cleared her throat and smiled. “Hi, I just got here and wanted to say hello. Am I bothering you?”

  He shook his head no.

  “Well, I was just getting fami
liar with the place and wondered if you wanted to show me around?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged. Nikki thought it was sort of a strange response. Did he or didn’t he? She wasn’t sure.

  “Your mother mentioned that you have tennis courts. I’m not exactly what you’d call a good player, but if you’re interested, I’d be willing to try. Could you tell me where the courts are?”

  Maxwell was still for a moment, then stuck his arm out of the door and pointed to one side of the house. Nikki found that odd. Why didn’t he just tell her? Maybe she was wrong and he was a lot worse off than she thought. Before she could say anything else he closed the door in her face.

  What a start, she thought as she walked away. She didn’t know what was worse, that she was attracted to him or him being so odd and uncommunicative. Either way, it wasn’t what anyone could call a great start to her new job.

  She just had to make a point not to look him the eye. She couldn’t ever let him know about the dreams, or how he affected her. She wished she could forget it, just shove it into a dark place in her mind and lock it away. Running the last few steps, she made it to her room, closed the door and leaned back against it. Safe. At least for the moment.

  Now, how the hell was she going to make it the rest of the summer?

  Maxwell watched her hurry off. Had she realized what happened when she came to his door? The idea that she might have made him want to throw himself off the balcony. He tossed the small bag of marbles he’d been clutching onto the bed and put his hands over his face. Good god, what a fantasy.

  He needed to get control of this…whatever it was. Second sight, visions, whatever. They’d gotten much stronger since Nikki arrived. He could barely look at her without one taking control.

  This one had been the strongest by far. And had definitely put a new spin on the phrase erotic fantasy.

  Sadly, fantasies were all he’d ever experience for the rest of his life. He wanted to believe it could be different but how could he? His visions were the only freedom life afforded him. And what visions they were. It made him wonder if in reality, Nikki would be so open to such things. He didn’t suppose he’d ever have the chance to find out. By the time he got through testing her, she’d either prove herself to be a drone and turn tail to run, or she’d hate him. Either way, as usual, it was a lose-lose situation for him.

  At noon Nikki walked out onto the terrace to find a member of the staff setting a table. “Hi.” Nikki walked over to the woman. “Ann, right?”

  The woman looked at Nikki and nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Lunch will be served shortly. Osgood said that you’ll be joining the Westons.”

  “Oh, yeah, I guess so. Can I help you do anything?

  “No, thank you.”

  Maxwell walked onto the terrace and stopped when he saw Nikki. Ann immediately gathered up her tray and scurried from the room.

  “Hi.” Nikki had decided that she could deal with both Maxwell’s odd behavior and her own faulty judgment in picking men. She just had to remember that he wasn’t normal, and she couldn’t expect him to act and react like a normal person. And she had to remember to not look directly into his eyes. She couldn’t afford a repeat performance of what had happened before.

  Maxwell looked at her then abruptly looked away.

  “I guess your father’s been delayed. Should we wait on him to sit down?”

  He didn’t respond or move. Nikki thought it extremely rude for him to not even answer. Richard walked out on the terrace and diverted her attention. “Ah, here you are. Shall we?”

  He pulled out a chair for Nikki. She saw the way Maxwell’s eyes narrowed and wondered why the gesture seemed to anger him. Richard ignored Maxwell and took a seat.

  “Have you had an opportunity to familiarize yourself with the estate?” Richard asked.

  “No, sir, not yet.” She looked over at Maxwell and smiled. “I was hoping Maxwell would show me around after lunch.”

  Maxwell’s eyes darted to his father and then down when Richard looked at him.

  “Why don’t you let me give you a tour? Maxwell customarily takes a nap after lunch. It wouldn’t be advisable to disrupt his routine.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She cut a look at Maxwell, who was studying the table top.

  “Nothing to apologize for, my dear. Now, did Osgood get you settled?”

  Before the question was out of his mouth, Osgood appeared. Behind him was Ann with a serving cart. Osgood had apparently heard the question and answered for her.

  “Ms. Morgan requested to be placed in the west wing, sir.”

  Nikki couldn’t help but notice the way Maxwell’s head jerked up to look at her and then his father. Richard didn’t notice Maxwell. His attention was focused on Nikki. She felt suddenly on the spot.

  “I thought since Maxwell was in the west wing, it’d be good if I was closer. Is that a problem?”

  “No, of course not. Ann, you may serve now.”

  Nikki looked over at Maxwell, as Ann started serving the plates and handed them to Osgood, who placed them on the table. Maxwell looked at her for a split second then looked away.

  Richard sampled a bite of the fish from his plate. “My compliments to the cook, Osgood. The salmon is delicious.”

  Nikki looked down at her plate. She hated fish. But how was she going to get out of eating it without drawing attention to herself?

  Maxwell solved the problem. He took one look at what was on the plate in front of him, and then swiped it off the table, sending it, the silverware, and his glass crashing to the tile.

  Richard jumped up, cursing as his wine glass shattered against the edge of his plate, spattering him with shards of glass and wine. Nikki made a grab for her glass as it started to sway but was a moment too late. It spilled over into her plate and onto the table.

  She grabbed the napkin off her lap and started mopping at the mess. Richard was still cursing as Osgood and Ann fluttered around, attempting to pick up the mess. Nikki looked at Maxwell in shock. Why in the world did he do that?

  Maxwell jumped up and ran from the room, colliding with another woman on the staff, Betty, who was rushing in. The impact sent her sailing backwards to land with a loud thump on her backside. He never paused or even looked back but charged right on.

  Nikki ran over to help Betty to her feet. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, fine. Thank you.” Betty straightened her clothes and smoothed her hair.

  Nikki was shocked. Why on earth had he acted like that? Before she had time to ask, Louise, the housekeeper hurried out. “What on earth’s going on out here?”

  Richard threw his soiled napkin down on the table. “Just another episode, Louise.” He looked at Nikki. “My apologies. I assure you this won’t happen again. If you’ll excuse me, I must change. Osgood, a word with you please.”

  Nikki was floored by what had just happened. She didn’t understand what had precipitated such behavior. Walking around the mess so as not to step on any glass, she followed Richard and Osgood out of the room. They didn’t notice her as they talked.

  “Call Charles Abernathy and ask him to have whatever it is we use to sedate Maxwell sent over. I won’t have him behaving in this manner.”

  “Yes, sir. Right away.”

  They sedate him? Nikki wasn’t comforted by the news. Just what exactly was wrong with Maxwell Weston?

  Richard headed for the main staircase. Osgood spotted Nikki and remained. She walked over to him. “Excuse me, Mr. Gaynor, but is that typical for Maxwell? I mean what’s wrong with him? If he has that big of a problem wouldn’t it be better if--”

  “Miss Morgan, forgive me, but I must remind you that you’re a newcomer to the staff, and have not yet had time to become accustomed to Maxwell’s habits. Whether or not you approve of the manner in which he is treated is of no concern to anyone here. The Westons have standards and orders they expect to be adhered to, and as their employees it is not to us to question those orders, but to carry them ou
t. Do I make myself clear?”

  Nikki was reminded of a sixth-grade principal who put her in her place once, in much the same way. In other words, mind your own business.

  “Fine. Whatever you say, Mr. Gaynor.”

  He nodded and turned away from her. Nikki went to her suite, threw threw herself down across her bed and stared at the ceiling,. Her hand felt for the pendant on her chest. It was then she remembered she was keeping them in her pocket. What had just happened?

  She closed her eyes, trying to recall every detail. Everything was going fine, as far as she could remember. It was when Maxwell looked at the fish on his plate that was when he lost it.

  Maybe he hates fish as much as I do. She smiled at the thought then immediately sobered. That was no excuse for such behavior, but neither was it justified for his father to curse the way he had, not to mention ordering Osgood to have Maxwell sedated.

  What am I doing here? Was it because of Gaspar’s impossible idea that the Westons were hiding something people had been searching for thousands of years, or was it that she thought Christian’s death was somehow tied to Gaspar and the Westons? Or is it something else, something I don’t even want to admit to myself. Like Maxwell? She hoped it was anything but the latter.

  Max crouched at the window inside the cabana, watching Nikki on the terrace. She had papers and books spread out on the glass table in front of the lounge, sitting with her legs curled up Indian-style, taking notes.

  He hadn’t been able to watch her for nearly two days. The day of the fish incident as he thought of it, Osgood and Steve had shown up in his room with one of the gardeners. At first Maxwell didn’t know why they were there. It was very clear when Osgood displayed the syringe.

  It took Steve and the gardener to hold him down long enough for Osgood to inject him. Max hated it when they drugged him. Whatever the drug was, it knocked him out for hours and then left him with no energy and made it hard to follow a train of thought. In short, it turned him into a zombie.

  He’d been out of sight long enough for his father to forget about him and now that the drug had worn off, he could get back to figuring out if Nikki was another of his parent’s drones, or if his initial impression of her had been right and she was different.

 

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