Page 26 of Brooklynaire
“At your service!” the gentleman’s voice says, his screen lighting up across the room. “What do we need,chaps?”
“Tell Rebecca a joke,” Nateprompts.
“Rightio! Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?” Bingley quips. “He was outstanding in hisfield.”
We both burst out laughing. Not because the joke was funny, but because it isn’t. And maybe we both need thelaugh.
“Another one,” Natedemands.
“If life gives you melons, you’re probablydyslexic!”
“Jesus. The humor module needs some work,” Nate admits. “I’ll tell myprogrammers.”
“There’s a humor module?” I ask. But I guess there must be. “If only people could be taught to be funnier. Now there’s a realinnovation.”
Nate snorts, which sets me offagain.
“I hate Russian dolls,” Bingley says. “So full ofthemselves.”
Idie. Actual tears are leaking from my eyes. “Time for b-bed,” I hiccup, and Nate justgrins.
* * *
That first nightI wonder if it will be hard to fall asleep in Nate’s house. After I tuck myself into the four-poster bed with the million-thread-count sheets, I can hear him moving around. Water rushes through prewar pipes in his bathroom, and footsteps pace across the grand old woodenfloors.
“Lights out, Bingley,” he says fromsomewhere.
“Goodnight, sweet prince,” a voiceanswers.
“Hamlet? That’s a littledark.”
“Sorry, sir. Sleep with the angels. All security systems areengaged.”
A few minutes later, a lovely hush comes over the mansion. I picture Nate in bed with one report or another on his tablet, his reading glasses on hisnose.
I lie back against the pillows, feeling cared for. It’s unfamiliar. And I drift asleep wondering how I got to be so lucky to work for the world’s bestguy.
* * *
The next morning,by the time I manage to shower and pull myself together, Nate’s already left for the airport. It’s just as well. I would have begged to go with him toDC.
When I descend the stairs, Mrs. Gray is in the kitchen. And when she spots me, her smile is as wide as a kid’s on Christmas morning. “Rebecca! Did you sleep well? How do you like your eggs?Coffee?”
She is overjoyed to see me. I might not be the only one who’s a little lonely these days. “I slept fine,” I told her. And it was true. “You really don’t have to cook forme.”
“Nice try, cutie. Eggs? There’sbacon.”
“Well, in thatcase…”
Two thousand calories later, Mrs. Gray accepts a delivery at the back door. “Ah!” she says, carrying the box inside. There’s a bow on it. “This is for you. Nate told me to expectit.”
Even though Nate isn’t here, I feel self-conscious tugging off the ribbon and opening the box. What I find inside is completely unexpected—a pair of those expensive noise-cancelling headphones. And there’s anote.
Rebecca—Please check your phone. You’ll see that it has updated overnight. There are two new apps. One is Bingley—so you can control your phone completely by voice. And the other is an audiobook app, where you will find two books downloaded and ready to go. Feel better. —N.
“Oh my God.” I click my phone to life and find the apps. The audiobooks—Pride and PrejudiceandOutlander—are more than forty hours long in total. “This is because I complained about beingbored.”
“Not anymore,” Mrs Gray chuckles. “Not with Jamie Fraser whispering in your ear. That wedding!” She makes a small gasp of approval. “Now off you go! Claire and that husband of hers bouncing the bed at the inn…” Shesighs.
