Fables & Other Lies - Page 30

“I’d like to take advantage of the light.” I looked at the window again, shaking my head. Light had just been seeping through and was no longer.

“Isn’t that what technology is for? I assume you’ll be able to brighten the images.”

“Well, yeah, but why would I?” I walked back to the door, taking my camera out and uncapping the lens as I did. I turned to face the room and raised the camera, pointing the lens in his direction. I snapped a picture, then another, getting a full angle of the room. I’d just have to photoshop him out.

“There you go taking pictures without permission again.” He stood up and walked around the desk to join me. He smelled like his bed, like some manly cologne that I wanted to drown in.

“Will you leave the furniture?” I snapped a picture, then another.

“I believe so. I can’t imagine it fitting into any new house.”

I nodded. River escorted me out of the study and walked me down the hall toward the front door. “Are you sure you don’t want breakfast first?”

“I’m positive. Thanks.” I glanced over at him. “Did you have breakfast?”

“It would have been rude to eat without my guest.”

“Oh.” I lowered the camera and let the strap hang from my neck. “I guess I can take some coffee.”

He didn’t smile, not with his mouth, but his eyes lit up. He made a right before we were all the way to the door and walked me to the dining room.

Chapter Twelve

I stopped at the threshold. The table sat twenty, maybe thirty, people easily, and it was set for a feast. There were only two place settings though, on the right side of the table, across from each other.

“This is just for us?” I looked up at River, wide-eyed.

“We don’t have guests often, so the staff likes to make a show of it when we do.”

“Wow.” I walked over to one of the chairs, touching the top of the intricate wooden design. The upholstery looked dated, with an ivory fabric and pink flowers, but the wood was intact and seemed to have gold on the edges.

“They were imported from Italy.” River walked to the chair across from me, setting a hand on it as he watched me. I realized he was waiting for me to sit down first, and once I did, he followed suit. There were three silver warming dishes and two bread baskets. If I wasn’t hungry before, I definitely was now.

“Help yourself,” he said.

“Thanks.” I smiled and stood with my plate, leaning over to open the first silver dish.

It was filled to the top with salami. It was an exaggeration of food. I took two pieces, shut it, and moved on to the next one as River traced my steps and served himself. There were poached eggs and fried eggs. I took one fried egg and some mashed plantains, then served myself coffee and dumped creamer and sugar in it.

“What do you do with the leftovers?” I stirred the coffee.

“The staff eats it.”

“They haven’t had food?” I stopped stirring.

“They eat after we eat.”

“No wonder they’re so mean.”

“Mean?”

“Mayra has been plotting my death from the moment I walked in here.”

“Is that so?” He smiled, but it wasn’t kind and did nothing to dismiss my fear.

“I want to leave after I take the pictures.”

“Why would you want to leave?” He met my gaze, seemingly puzzled by this.

“I’m supposed to meet my friends for drinks.”

“Your friends will be here later tonight. Why not just enjoy the festivities and leave with them?”

“I’d rather not wait until then.”

“Do you feel uneasy here?” His brows pulled in slightly. “Is it Mayra? I can dismiss her.”

“You’d dismiss someone on your staff for me?” I blinked, shaking my head. “No. That’s . . . that would be awful. And it’s not her.”

Not just her, I wanted to say, but didn’t. River didn’t argue anymore. We finished eating in peace and he showed me the areas I could photograph.

“It’s so very . . . antiquated,” I said, sitting down on a bench across from the staircase to scroll through the photos I’d taken. Some of the wings were off-limits, but these would do. He sat beside me and looked over my shoulder as I scrolled.

“Not your style?”

“I’m not sure what my style is yet when it comes to home decoration. I’m renting for now and the house came fully furnished.” I clicked to the next one, of one of the six sitting rooms; this particular one was dark purple, all purple walls, all purple furniture, all purple carpet. “But this is definitely not my style.”

“Is your style more of a small house with a modern feel? On the water?”

My face whipped up, heart slamming. “How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“About my house.”

“I don’t. I’m assuming, asking you a question.” He cocked his head. “Most people from islands tend to gravitate to the water. It has quite a pull on us, don’t you think?”

Tags: Claire Contreras Paranormal
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