Page 23 of Keeping Kasey
The rest of the tour is uneventful. There’s a gym in the basement, along with a rec room that looks like it’s never been used, and the third floor is all spare rooms and storage. We stop on the second floor, and I follow Logan into the first room—my bedroom for the duration of my stay.
It’s as beautiful as the rest of the house.
The king-sized bed is between two glass tables, each adorned with a white lamp and a stack of long-ignored books. A vanity in the corner beneath a wall of windows overlooks the acres of land spanning the backyard. It’s a gorgeous view, made even more so by the shining sun and lack of clouds.
It’s a view I could get used to.
There’s a walk-in closet that could hold four times as many clothes as I own and a bathroom complete with a rain shower, bathtub, and—according to the dial on the wall—heated floors.
My five suitcases and two duffle bags are already sitting beside the bed.
Logan leaves after telling me his room is the first door to the left of the staircase, James’s is the one next to it, and Damon’s is the last room down the hall.
I shut the door behind him to finally enjoy a moment of privacy and spend the next twenty minutes lying beside Kane on the oversized—yet extremely comfortable—bed. I should unpack, but I’m too exhausted from the drive.
It’s a project for tomorrow.
The knock on my door reminds me that for the next three months,homewon’t be a place of solitude. The fact that I can be interrupted at any time makes me reevaluate my choice to be here in the first place.
Though five million dollars might just be worth it.
“You ready to go?” James asks.
I open the door. “Go where?”
“Logan didn’t tell you?”
A shrug is my answer.
“We have a meeting at the base with the highest-ranking members of our family and the Morenos to get everyone on the same page about the plan moving forward.”
No, Logan did not tell me that, and while I knew I didn’t have all day to lounge around, I thought I’d have more than twenty minutes to settle in.
This is going to be an exhausting few months.
“Uh, yeah,” I say. “I’ll be down in a bit.”
His eyes trail down my body. “Is that what you’re planning to wear?” James asks, and while he does so without malice, my defenses lock into place.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Is there a problem with that?”
He gives my less-than-professional blue athletic wear set a once-over, then briefly looks down at his suit, and I watch his mental deliberation as he decides whether to pick the fight.
“Not at all,” he says with a shake of his head.
When I walk downstairs a few minutes later, James is gone, having taken the totes of my equipment to unload at the base before the meeting.
That leaves me to drive with Logan, who—unlike his brother—chose to pick a fight with me over my outfit.
“I’m comfortable,” I state, moving toward the door.
Logan steps in my way, forcing me to bend my neck to look at him. “I don’t care about your comfort. You’re going to a capo meeting, not a dance studio. Go change.”
“I never agreed to a dress code.”
“You agreed to work for me, and I’m holding you to the same standard I hold all my soldiers to.”
“I’m not one of your soldiers,” I remind him, then throw up placating hands when his nostrils flare. “But whatever. I’ll go change.” I check the time on my phone. “Might take a while since everything is still in suitcases. But that’s okay, right? I mean, you’re the boss, so everyone can just wait for us.”
