Significance (56 page)

"I gather you like it?" Clare said, her voice betraying amusement.

I cleared my throat. Like it? Was she kidding? It was breath taking. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Clare beamed as though I'd just complimented her on her fashion sense. "I'll let you unpack then and shall bring up your dinner in half an hour. Of course you can eat in the dining room, but I assume you're tired and may want some privacy before your first day of work."

"Yes, that'd be great. Thanks."

"Excellent. The TV remote control is on the night table. The bathroom's in there." Clare pointed at a door on the other side of the room. "If you need anything, I'm in the library, which is on the ground floor, the second door to the right. You can look around the house if you like, but the second floor is off-limits."

Once Clare closed the door behind her, I walked to the bed and pulled the heavy bedspread aside. The sheet beneath was of a perfect white. I opened my suitcase and threw my clothes haphazardly into the closet near the window, leaving my books and various memorabilia in my suitcase. Neatness wasn't my strongest point, but what my new boss didn't know couldn't hurt him. From all the competition, funny that I should be the lucky one to land such a well-paid job. Whatever Dallas wrote on that application form, I could only hope he hadn't pretended I was a domestic goddess. That might just mean the end of my placement, and I really needed the money.

I walked into the bathroom and reached for the light switch. The bulb flickered to life, revealing walls covered in white tiles with tiny, dark blue flowers. I peeked into the mirror above the washbasin and grimaced at my mousy brown hair that lacked a good cut, my chubby cheeks and big hazel eyes. Many called me pretty, but I knew I would never have that extra something that would make a guy fall in love with me. Cameron hadn't, or so he said before making it clear he wanted a break.

Enough dark thoughts already. Pushing my mental baggage to the back of my mind, I sighed and opened a cabinet. A toothbrush, shower gel, lavender soap and moisturizing lotion occupied the upper shelf. In another cabinet I found white towels and a bathrobe. I stripped off my jeans, red jumper and underwear, and jumped under the shower. The hot water relaxed my aching muscles and washed away the invisible signs of a long day. Wrapped in a towel, I walked back to the bedroom, and sank into the clean scent of recently washed sheets, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

A thud woke me up in the middle of the night. Disoriented, I looked around in the soft light cast by the lamp I had forgotten to switch off. My head felt groggy as I threw a glance at my phone on the bedside table. It was shortly before three a.m. Everything seemed quiet, and yet I couldn't shake off the feeling that something or someone was in the room, watching me. For a moment I thought I glimpsed pale blue eyes staring at me from the door. I spun around, heart jumping in my throat. No one there. No picture frames on the wall to hide a spy hole either. Shivering, I walked to the window and peeked through the curtains. The moon hid behind thick rain clouds. The room had noticeably cooled down.

I returned to my bed, pulling the sheets tighter around my shivering body, when I heard a thud outside my bedroom door. It was an old house and the rain and wind would make the wood creak, the living shapes of furniture simulating the threat of approaching danger, so nothing to worry there. Holding my breath, I listened for more sounds. The house was silent again. My bones felt stiff and tired, but any signs of sleepiness were gone. I slipped into my bathrobe, hesitating in front of the door. Should I really leave the comforting safety of my room and risk waking up my new employer? He might fire me for disturbing his beauty sleep.

Oh, sod it.

If I didn't check, I'd morph into an obsessive lunatic for the rest of the night. I crept to the door and opened it in one go, cringing at the squeaking sound of old hinges. The light from the lamp threw dark shadows on the thick rug covering the wooden floor. Mentally preparing myself to face whatever loomed in the shadows, I stepped into the cool corridor.

The hall was empty.

A Job From Hell by Jaden Scott is available through print and Kindle with Amazon and many other e-book avenues.