Page 40 of On Thin Ice

The next Friday morning, I lay in his bed forcing myself to wake up. He’d gotten up just moments before, responding to his alarm. After brushing his teeth and pulling on his workout clothes, he’d kissed me on the forehead. When he saw that I was awake, he said, “Don’t wait up for me tonight. I’ve got a function to attend.”

I frowned, exaggerating my down-turned lips.

“I’ll make up for it tomorrow night.” Just the promise made me smile as he left to head upstairs to the gym on the third floor. In the gray shorts, the muscles of his thighs were more obvious than in his business slacks and his ass was much easier to make out.

Oh…I had it so bad for him.

After he left, I sat up, trying to decide if I wanted to sleep for another hour in my bedroom or get up and shower. Instead, after I slipped my robe on, I wandered around his room, looking at it almost as if seeing it for the first time. Walking through the space, I touched the top of the rich mahogany dresser, opened the door close to it to see inside the closet that was three times the size of mine down the hall, every article of clothing neatly arranged as if in an exclusive boutique.

As I passed the fireplace, I wondered if he used it in the fall and winter, and I imagined us curled up on the floor in front of it. As I continued awakening sexually, I was eager to experiment, and I hoped we could make love in that very spot in front of it.

I’d never actually peeked out the windows of his room, so I first looked through the ones just past the fireplace deeper inside, close to the bathroom. Although the sun wasn’t up yet, it was light enough to see. Out of this window I saw the west side of the yard, including the extra parking spaces on the side of the building and, when I got closer to the glass, I was able to see the patio. When I moved to the other wall, I took in a view of the north, with the fountain and a good portion of the majestic yard. It was a beautiful vista, and it felt somewhat secluded because of the position of the trees. It would look even lovelier in the winter.

My room only looked over the north, the front part of the yard, and although I had plenty of windows, I didn’t have as many as Sinclair.

My bedroom reminded me of one of the rooms I’d seen in the east wing—the space I’d determined had been Augustus’s childhood bedroom. As I pondered it, I realized it was the exact opposite of mine, a mirror image, with the windows on the other side and the bathroom and closet matching proportionally.

It dawned on me then. Although the mansion had unique rooms, I was pretty sure if I had a map of it and folded the second floor in the middle of the antechamber, the sides would match perfectly.

Almost.

I’d already determined there weren’t as many rooms on the second floor of the east wing as there were here on the west.

I was only thinking of this because I still had a burning desire to see the rooms I hadn’t had a chance to explore before. Then I thought back to the dinner where I’d had to wear that embarrassing maid costume and had to deal with Sinclair’s feelings of scorn.

But it was different now. Our relationship had evolved far beyond that.

I found myself heading back to my room turning it over in my head. First, that dinner—or what happened afterward—was what had caused Sinclair to reveal his true feelings for me. I wouldn’t be walking away from his room, the smell of sex clinging to me as a reminder, had that not happened. It had forced his hand.

And, second, I believed he wouldn’t react that way again. After all, he’d let me inside…not just his room, but his heart. Even after telling me he didn’t want to talk about his family, he had, and I hoped he knew his secrets were safe with me.

But I had the suspicion that he wasn’t telling me everything…and I wanted to know.

I hadn’t read much of his mother’s journals since spending every night with him, but her words, her experiences still spun around my brain, and something told me I might find answers in that abandoned space.

Of course, I couldn’t do it right now—but soon.

I hoped the east wing held the answers that Sinclair was reluctant to give…and especially the ones he couldn’t possibly know.

Chapter 15

I squeezed an honest day’s work into the morning before enjoying lunch with Edna as usual. She would be leaving early, sometime between one and two as she always did on Friday—and that was when I planned to explore. I never ran into Greg in the middle of the day and had yet to meet his wife, so I wasn’t worried about being caught by them.

Still, I knew there was a first time for everything, so I’d have to be smart about it anyway.

On Fridays, Sinclair sometimes came home as early as four o’clock, and that would give me a window of a couple of hours to explore freely. So, plan in place, I worked downstairs until Edna popped her head in at the top of the stairs. “I’m off, dear. I’ll see you bright and early Monday.”

Peeking my head in the stairway, I looked up at her. No matter how hard she worked, she always had a tired smile on her face, and today was no different. And, despite our age difference, I had grown to consider her a friend. But I was no dummy—I knew her loyalties and love still lay with Sinclair. Now, I understood that it was more to her than employer/ employee—she felt like a mother to him.

I realized it wasn’t unlike my relationship with him—it, too, had moved beyond simple boss/ worker. Maybe it was that way with Greg too. It was possible that they were friends and hung out together once in a while…although I doubted it. Sinclair didn’t talk about him much.

But it was possible. I knew that simply by looking at how blurred the lines of his relationships with Edna and me were.

Was that because he was searching for family?

Real family? Not just blood…but heart?

I hoped I could find answers in the east wing—not just for me but for him. He’d never said it out loud, but I could feel an emptiness in him, like he was searching for something that would fill it, something that belonged there. Part of me yearned to be that something—but in the back of my mind, I suspected I was just a plaything, and he’d grow tired of me at some point.

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