It didn’t matter that she would be going to college virtually. She still got to experience living out from under her parents’ roof. That was a start in the right direction of finding her independence. And the amount of money she’d be saving on room and board alone made her job worthwhile. But then he had offered her a fabulous starting salary on top of that. If she budgeted and saved her money, she might actually graduate with no student debt, which was practically unheard of.
She hadn’t even started yet and she loved her new job. She loved her little town and loved the fact that it was snowing. Nothing but sugar-sifted skies and green lights guided her way up Main Street.
However, those cozy small-town sensations died the moment she arrived at his property. Sure, this house boasted stunning architecture and the landscaping was clean, even for winter, but there was something cold and unlived-in about the place, something she had never noticed from the town’s view.
It was almost eerie. The shutters were painted a gleaming black that contrasted beautifully against the white brick, but something was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it.
As she parked the car beside an old oak tree, she stared up at the looming home and a shiver chased down her spine. The hollow vibe was so unexpected it threw her confidence.
Maybe it was just the house and had nothing to do with the family inside. After all, the home had housed a hundred mayors, each one replacing the last with a portion of the town’s tax dollars going toward the historic property’s upkeep. It didn’t technically belong to the Buchanans. It belonged to Jasper Falls, so any creepy vibes she sensed shouldn’t be held against them.
Leaving the boxes of supplies in her car, she climbed the brick steps and knocked. A grand glass chandelier hung overhead, reminding her of the one in the Rose Garden at the White House.
The door swung open and her gaze climbed the front of her new boss. The wall of his chest seemed broader than the day before, and an expanse of tanned skin peeked out where his collar was undone.
His hair was damp and the air smelled of soap and mint. His brow creased and his eyes focused on something over her shoulder.
Had she parked in a bad place?
“Good morning. Am I too early?” Peeking around his body, she did a quick scan of the home. The inside was worse. Empty and vacant of life. Cold.
It wasn’t the size of the home. Her family had lots of big houses and none of them felt as expressionless as this.
“Morning.” His distracted gaze scanned the yard. “Is that snow?”
“Yup!”
“Great.” His dry tone contradicted her cheer. “Come in.”
She stomped her feet on the mat before stepping into the cavernous foyer. It might be a house, but it didn’t feel like much of a home.
As far as personal touches went, there weren’t any that she could see. Polished floors and a mammoth staircase dotted with ancient furniture upholstered in cold satins and stiff batting. She couldn’t process why it felt so chilly when the outside was twice as cold.
Removing her coat and hat, she shook the flurries out of her hair. “Not a winter person?”
“Snow creates chaos.”
She supposed it did. “But it’s so pretty.”
He paused and gave her a strange look, then pivoted and walked deeper into the house, each step of his fancy shoes echoing off the polished floor. “You can hang your coat on the hook in the foyer. Addison is still sleeping.”
She did as he instructed and quickly caught up to him. He glanced down at her as she kept pace by his side. Did he not expect her to follow?
She paused and considered the time. “I expected Addison to be awake. Does she usually sleep this late?”
“She usually rises somewhere between nine and eleven, unless I wake her. Are you a morning person?”
Skylar liked to think of herself as an everything person, a sort of go with the current kind of gal. “That’s a wide range.” She considered how important structure and routine was for children Addison’s age. “What time does she usually go to bed?”
“Whenever I head up. Last night I was looking over grant proposals until after midnight.”
Her eyes widened. Didn’t he know that children Addison’s age needed sleep for proper development? “You let her stay up until after midnight?”
“She usually crashes on the sofa, but doesn’t like to go to bed until I do.”
Skylar followed him into what appeared to be the family room. The couch was actually something designed after the eighteenth century and she found great comfort in the sight of a messy toybox in the corner.
“She can be a little cranky in the mornings,” he warned. “She usually has her cereal in here and watches a few hours of television to wake up.”