Under His Roof

At 12:17 a.m., I stopped pretending I was going to sleep.

For the last hour, I had listened to Reed House settle around me. No footsteps passed the service wing. No doors opened on the main floor. Through the narrow window beside my bed, I could see part of the service garden and the path beyond it.

For ten minutes, I watched one of the exterior cameras turn toward the cliff, pause, then sweep back toward the house.

I tied my robe over my thin nightdress. I had not bothered with a bra; I was supposed to be sleeping, not wandering through my employer’s house after midnight.

My feet were still tender from running barefoot the night before, but at least they made less noise. I checked the window again.

The camera turned away so I slipped into the service passage and eased the door shut behind me. Calvin had given me rules. More useful than that, he had told me which parts of his house mattered to him.

The pantry was closest to my room. Beyond it, the passage opened toward the main floor. I paused at the corner and listened before looking out. Nothing moved.

Small night lights marked the hallway. I passed the dining room and noted the terrace doors without touching them. The staircase led upstairs toward Calvin’s private rooms. Across the hall, his study door remained closed.

I looked at it for a second, then kept walking. Breaking that rule on my first night would be stupid. Learning how to break it later was different.

The kitchen gave me the safest excuse if anyone caught me. I really was thirsty, and getting water sounded better than explaining why the new housekeeper was studying doors and cameras after midnight.

I entered without turning on the main lights. The room was silent. I opened the refrigerator and cold white light spread across the counter and the front of my robe as I reached for a bottle of water.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

A man’s voice came from the darkness behind me.

I turned too quickly and bumped the refrigerator door with my hip.

Calvin stood near the far counter, half in shadow. He wore a dark shirt and loose trousers, nothing like the fitted suits he wore around the resort. The shirt stretched across his shoulders as he lifted a glass. He had been there long enough to watch me enter.

“Sorry, Mr. Reed.” I closed the refrigerator and held the water bottle against my stomach. “I didn’t know anyone was awake.”

“I noticed.”

A small light beneath the cabinets caught one side of his face. Without the jacket, tie, and employees waiting for instructions, he looked less like the man who ran the resort but that did not make him safer.

“I only came for water.”

Calvin glanced at the bottle in my hand.

“From the dining-room corridor?”

My fingers tightened around the plastic.

“I took the wrong turn.”

“You’ve lived here less than six hours and already found the long way to the kitchen.”

“I’m still learning the house.”

“So I’ve seen.”

I moved toward the cabinet where I had noticed the glasses earlier. The upper shelf was higher than I expected. When I reached for one, my robe pulled tight across my shoulders and the hem climbed up my thighs.

I dropped my arm. Calvin crossed the kitchen before I could try another cabinet.

“I can manage.”

“I’m sure you can.”

He stopped behind me and reached past my shoulder. His arm brushed my sleeve, and the clean scent of soap and cedar brought Apollo back in one quick flash—his hands at my waist, his mouth against mine. I shifted forward until the counter stopped me. Calvin took down a glass and placed it beside my hand.

“You’re tense, Ms. Blake.”

“It’s late. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

I turned carefully. He was too close. His gaze stayed on my face, but I became aware of the thin nightdress beneath my robe and how little I had expected anyone to see me tonight. I reached for the glass. Calvin rested two fingers against the rim before I could take it.

“Have you ever worked on a yacht?”

The question almost made me drop the bottle.

“No.”

He watched me, but I kept my expression neutral.

“Odd.”

“What is?”

“You adjust quickly to unfamiliar places.”

“I’ve worked in private homes before.”

“Private homes.” His fingers left the glass. “Not boats?”

“No.”

He placed one hand on the counter beside me. Moving away now would mean brushing against him. I stayed still and his gaze dropped briefly to my mouth.

I knew exactly what his mouth felt like, and he knew what mine felt like too. Calvin leaned closer, stopping just short of touching me. I could have moved but I didn’t and for one second, neither of us did. Then he straightened and stepped away.

“Drink your water, Ms. Blake.”

He picked up his glass as if nothing had happened. I still couldn’t tell whether he had almost kissed me or only wanted to see if I would let him.

My burner phone vibrated in my robe pocket as I left the kitchen. I stepped into the pantry off the service passage and answered quietly.

“Hi.”

“You sound tired.”

Vic. He could hear it in one word.

“I’m fine.”

“Did you eat?”

“I had coffee.”

Movement near the doorway caught my eye. I lowered the phone slightly and looked up. Calvin had left the kitchen counter and stopped just outside the pantry.

“S,” Vic said through the phone.

Calvin’s gaze settled on me.

“I got busy,” I said, bringing the phone back to my ear.

“Doing what?”

“Learning the job.”

It was safe enough if Calvin overheard.

Vic sighed. “Get some sleep when you can. You’ve been running since last night.”

“I’ll try.”

“Call if you need me.”

“I will.”

I ended the call and slipped the phone into my robe pocket. Calvin remained in the passage.

“Someone from home?”

“An old friend.”

His eyes dropped briefly to my pocket, then returned to my face.

“S?”

I hesitated for half a second. “A nickname.”

He gave a small nod. “I see.”

Nothing in his expression told me what he thought of it. I stepped past him and headed toward my room. Tonight had already given me enough: the main-floor layout, the private staircase, the camera watching the service garden, and the fact that Calvin stayed awake long after the house went quiet.

I was almost at my door when he called after me.

“Ms. Blake.”

I turned.

“The garden camera rotates every eighteen seconds.”

I kept my face still.

“You crossed at seventeen.”

He had seen me then a slight curve touched his mouth.

“If you’re going to learn my house,” he said, “learn it properly.”

Then he walked back toward the kitchen. I thought I had learned something about Calvin Reed tonight.

Instead, I had shown him something about me.