Page 47 of The Christmas Nanny

“Sorry,” I said. “I liked it the first time well enough to try it again.” Lame. I was falling into a chasm, pushed by Quartermain. “I need to go change for dinner.”

I left Samantha in the kitchen, still tasting her on my lips. Annette sent a text, but I was in no mood to answer. I didn’t know how to answer. Tell her Quartermain now owned me, and I wasn’t returning to work?

Wigglebutt waited patiently by the door. He hadn’t been fed since the morning, missing his mid-day snack and almost missing dinner.

“I see you, and now I hear you,” I said when he meowed. “You better get used to the place. We’re staying.” He meowed again. “Too bad.”

I fed Wigglebutt and showered. Before heading downstairs, I glanced out the window, seeing Quartermain returning from the guest house, messing with his zipper as he left. Did I want that? I didn’t, but I had no choice. The money was too good to pass on.

Samantha stood at the end of the hall by the stairs. “Something isn’t right,” she whispered.

“Why’re you whispering?”

“The butler guy is in a suit instead of his butler clothes.” She hooked her arm around mine, and we went down the steps together.

In the dining room, Quartermain sat at the head of the table, Stephanie and Jacob on his right. I walked around the table with Samantha and sat on Quartermain’s left. Nobody spoke, and Quartermain looked like he’d just eaten a bug.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Where’s your collar?” Quartermain whispered.

“Shit. In my room.”

“Go get the fucking thing and get your ass back down here.”

I ran out of the dining room and up the stairs. I grabbed the collar in the room and stood in front of the mirror. The collar actually looked good with the black dress I’d chosen.

As I passed through the foyer on the way to the dining room, I saw the butler in a suit talking to a woman about my age. She was fucking gorgeous, and I wondered if Quartermain was already in the process of replacing me.

In the dining room, I found everyone still silent. I took my seat, and Quartermain leaned toward me.

“Don’t ever forget it again.” His face changed from anger to confusion as the butler entered the room. “What’s going on, Boris? Why aren’t you in work attire?”

Boris waved another man into the dining room, a mousy man with wire-rimmed glasses, wearing a cheap suit and carrying an old leather briefcase.

“This is Edmund Albright,” Boris said. “He’s my business attorney and handles all my affairs.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Boris?” Quartermain snapped his fingers, and when he turned, he found none of the house staff present. He snapped louder, but nobody came. He stood, face turning red. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Sit down, grandson,” Boris said.

Quartermain’s face seemed to sink in on itself. He sat and stared at Boris. “What did you say?”

Boris nodded to Edmund. Edmund laid his briefcase on the table and opened it, the latches clicking loudly in the silent room. He removed a single sheet of paper and walked it over to Quartermain.

“You heard me correctly, Charles. I’m your grandfather, Arthur Quartermain. I’m here to take over the company you have almost bankrupted financially and morally. In short, you’re out. The company is no longer yours. The money is no longer yours. This house . . . no longer yours.”

“This can’t be real.”

“It absolutely is real, and everything I just said is explained in that letter.” He pointed at Stephanie and then Samantha. “You two are also out.”

“You’re kicking out your granddaughter?” I asked.

Arthur sighed. “Samantha is not their daughter. She’s a concubine they hired as part of their game.”

“Hey,” Samantha said.

“The three women in the guest house have also been sent away.”

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