THREE
Kit didn’t know why he did it. Maybe it was because the little red haired maid had been all a twitter over tall, blond and dangerous from the moment he walked in the front door. Maybe it was because studly had stopped the twitter with those two little words “I’m gay” that had done it. Kit was flustered. And what was worse he knew he was flustered and he hated admitting that he felt anything. At all. Ever. He’d spent the last decade feeling nothing. Why start now?
“Christopher Auberon,” Sam practically growled at him. It wasn’t often that he got under Sam’s skin, as much as he tried. Maybe old Rochfort had a thing for young dudes that Kit wasn’t aware of.
“Samuel Rochfort.” He typed back his reply never flinching under the butler’s less than pleased gaze. “I’m so glad we have introductions out of the way.”
The bodyguard was looking very pale around the eyes. Like he was about to bolt. Kit had to wonder exactly what this man could do to protect him from harm if he couldn’t even handle an introduction.
Oh, he’d seen him reach for a gun at the door. Which was why he’d cut the noise. The information his uncle had sent on the former marshal didn’t go into particulars but the scar that pulled the man’s once handsome face into a permanent scowl was recent. That much he knew. And here Micah Beasley was PTSDing all over Kit’s carpet.
“I’d ask if you were raised in a barn but honestly I fear your answer.” Sam walked through the room picking up his discarded breakfast dishes and the laundry basket Kit had brought out for Kady, his favorite Goth gamer maid, to take out after their lunch game break. Kady stayed because she like his games, even though she had no idea he’d designed them. He said he was a beta tester. It worked. She got to play if she finished her work early and he got valuable insight into the female gamer’s mind. “Mr. Beasley isn’t interested in your shenanigans. He’s here to do a job. At least respect that if you can’t respect anything else.”
“Aye, Aye, Sir. I am suitably chastised for being a goat or…maybe a pig.” Kit typed quickly letting emphasis fall on the word pig to see what the former cop would do. He bristled nicely. So not long off the job. “You may go now, Rochfort, and leave me with my new toy. I won’t break him. I promise. Might even leave something for you to rake across the coals later.”
The butler looked nervously over to the new bodyguard who seemed to be mulling things over. At least he’d lost the tail between the legs look from a few moments ago. His jaw was set now. The area around the scar gone white. There was no emotion in his eyes. Which were brown. Kit tucked that information away. He’d design a character after Beastly one day.
“I shall leave you both to get acquainted. Play nice, Kit.” Sam waltzed out with the dishes and the laundry. One day Kit would have to ask him how he did that ramrod straight walk thing. Kit had tried and failed. But then again he had the coordination of a giraffe on Adderall.
Kit waited for his butler to go back to his domain and out of Kit’s sound proofed life before he typed. “My apologies. I’m not exactly brimming with social skills. Please have a seat. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Kit indicated the small seating cluster around the fireplace away from his work station. He waited for the bodyguard to make a move to follow him over.
Kit walked on bare feet, the carpet masking his steps, but that shouldn’t explain the startled expression of his guest. Kit pulled the tie of his robe to make sure it was secure and sat cross legged in his favorite club chair.
“You’re very tall,” his guest stated as he relaxed into the chair across from Kit. “I guess it’s my turn to apologize, apparently my social skills are rusty.”
“We can dispense with the pleasantries and small talk if you wish. I’m not good at either. And, well, I can be very blunt. Mostly I’m rude.” Kit never broke eye contact as he typed his words into his voice program. The bodyguard’s gaze followed his hand, darting quickly back to meet Kit’s gaze
“Your uncle mentioned that you didn’t speak.” Mr. Beasley…no, Beastly was good, he looked like a Beastly to Kit...Beastly, addressed the white elephant in the room.
“I lost the ability before I was eight. Tragic accident. But I’ve adapted nicely, and it hasn’t affected my need to speak very much at all.” He went for light. He had no intention of going into the accident as it didn’t pertain to now.
Michael nodded. “It will take some getting used to. I mean your mouth doesn’t move and yet your face is very expressive.”
“Most people don’t notice. Most people can’t get past my hair to really see my face. Or my past. I make people nervous. Do I make you nervous?”
He shifted in his seat, the guilt in his gaze hard to hide. “You do. This whole situation has made me nervous. Your uncle didn’t go into great detail.”
“Gideon is a master manipulator. And he gets what he wants. He probably told you he had another candidate on the line. And…” Kit tilted his head, pausing for effect. “The pretty driver with the great ass would have distracted even a straight man.”
Beastly cleared his throat and broke eye contact. Interesting. Despite announcing his orientation to the staff, he seemed uncomfortable with who he was. “Yes, well. That may be. I made a knee jerk decision.”
“And the money isn’t enough to make that decision more palatable. I’m impressed. Most of the people who come through here are desperate for money. Only to find the remote location intimidating. More Shining than Maid in Manhattan…or pick any fairytale. I’m not on the most eligible bachelor list for a reason.”
“And why would that be? You’re obviously wealthy and incredibly beautiful.” The smile was dishonest.
“You suck at flattery. I thought you were gay. Don’t guys like you usually have charm oozing out of every pore?”
Beastly’s face went hard. He hid any emotion that might have seeped in. “Spying on your staff is a pretty dick thing to do, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Phrased like that, I’d have to say no. They work for me. I pay their wages. They do their jobs and don’t plot to assassinate me and they go home to the comfort and privacy of their respective homes. Isn’t that how most corporations work? And Rochfort and now yourself are the only live in employees. The only surveillance cameras near your apartments are outside. I wouldn’t leave my drapes open, the guardhouse might see you shower, other than that…” Kit broke off and shrugged. He didn’t care if Beastly understood. He only cared if Beastly did what he paid him to do and not try to abscond with the family jewels.
“Ah, I suppose in a sense. Most people expect to be able to speak freely with their workmates. Or to enjoy a meal without their employer listening in.”
“They can certainly drive themselves off property to eat anywhere they please. This is my home. It wouldn’t be any different if I was sitting at the table with them.” Kit tried to keep his irritation under control. “I can see we won’t work after all. My needs are what the people here are hired to see to. I provide them a fine living. I expect loyalty from those who stay.”
“To the exclusion of personal freedom?”
“You were in the military. How much personal freedom did you have? Were you able to pick up and go whenever you wanted? Were you able to sit at mess and talk shit about your employer? Were you allowed to take home whatever pleased you? I suspect in that regard I’m much less strict. My people are paid more than a decent living wage. My people have healthcare, as do their families. They have vacation time. They earn those. And if I decide to listen in to them talk in the kitchen it’s my prerogative. Seeing as I’m forbidden from leaving this side of the house. Good day to you Mr. Beasley. I’ll arrange for a flight to where ever you want to go. Tomorrow. Please enjoy your evening.”
Kit looked up as Rochfort returned. The butler’s expression troubled. “Master Kit?”
“Mr. Beasley won’t be joining our staff after all. Please see that he’s made comfortable for the evening.” Kit turned his back on the men both looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. Some say he’d lost it many years ago, why dispel that notion now?
He went back to his work and turned the volume up to drown out the sound of panic clawing at his mind. Dark would come soon. And he would be exactly where he was before. Alone. With his ghosts come back to haunt him.
* * * * *
“What the hell was that about?” Micah found himself outside on the patio. The cold air doing little to calm him down. The butler had followed him out the door he’d happened to walk past and stood waiting for Micah to…what? Go pack up and go back to town?
“You failed your interview.” Sam leaned against the wrought iron column that supported the pergola they stood under. He looked disappointed. Yeah well, him and Micah both.
“I thought I was already interviewed by the uncle. I thought my service records and ability was all that mattered. I didn’t know I was going to have to deal with a privacy invading…what the hell is he anyway? Some escapee from a Miyazaki movie?” Micah was aware that he was over reacting. He didn’t give a shit. He’d flown all the way across the fucking country to take this job. He’d left behind everything he owned and left the people he…barely ever saw anyway.
“Master Kit picked you. Mr. Gideon only vetted you on Kit’s insistence. Kit is the one who will pay your salary. And I have no idea what a Miyazaki movie is so I can’t testify to Kit’s resemblance to one.” Rochfort was nothing short of stone cold now that Micah was being given the boot. “But yes, he listens in. He doesn’t use the information he hears. It’s his way of being part of the household.”
Micah sliced his hand in the air. He wasn’t buying that this man thought it was okay for the poor little rich boy to have the entire place bugged. “Is he listening now? Can he hear us?”
“No. The outside is camera surveillance only. The bedrooms have no surveillance. Only the public areas of the house. Any area he could walk into at any moment and overhear or participate in the conversation. It’s his home. We’re here for him. He pays the bills.”
“And you’re fine with his spying?”
“Let’s just say that when Mrs. Gibbs husband had a heart attack on his job, Kit had a helicopter en route before she could put the phone down. When the former maid Rachel fell down the stairs in the west wing, Kit was the only one who witnessed her fall. We were able to get to her before she went into shock. He’s not malicious, Mr. Beasley. He’s lonely and we’re all the family he has.”
Micah wasn’t appeased. He paced the cobblestones ignoring the pin pricks of icy rain that heralded a coming storm. “Gideon said he was agoraphobic, yet I came away from that interview with the idea that maybe Master Kit isn’t exactly free to leave his room. I don’t like being lured out here on false pretenses.”
The butler tensed. It was a motion so minute that Micah almost missed it. Not that it was an easy catch considering how stiff the man was normally. “It’s a little of both, I guess. Master Kit hasn’t left his apartment in ten years. At first it was because he was under house arrest. I think he…” the man let his guard down for a half a moment. “I think he’s waiting for a reason to find the real world again. He hides in his own little world and forgets that the people he deals with aren’t really real. Don’t get me wrong, some of them are very real. But Kit has never seen them, or spoken with them. And some of them are the characters he creates and brings to life in his games. Sometimes I don’t know which world he lives in. I try to make sure he is comfortable and as happy as he can ever be. Does that answer your questions? I believe lunch is waiting and it’s beginning to sleet.”
Micah stared off across the painfully manicured grounds. The topiary and flowering bushes were beginning to glisten as the rain did indeed turn to sleet. Way off in the distance a copse of trees hinted at the only wild in this world he’d been dropped into. “He’s out here in the middle of nowhere with the place locked down tighter than Fort Knox. What the hell does he need a bodyguard for anyway?”
“Maybe if you had given him a chance he would have told you. Now you’ll never know. And the soup is getting cold.” Rochfort held the door for him and Micah cast one last look at the wild beyond before following him inside.
He’d eat, go take a nap, and be ready to go back to the nearest town when the driver was ready to take him. He wouldn’t wait for morning. Tomorrow he’d pick a place on the globe and go get lost.