Page 9 of Legally Yours

“Aren’t you going to sleep too?” I asked, already standing up. I tried to stifle a yawn, but the thought of a warm bed was turning out to be more of a siren’s call than expected.

“I’ve got some more work to do tonight,” he said as he walked to the tea tray to fix himself a cup. “You have a good night, Skylar. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, um, Mr. Sterling,” I said, already on my way up the stairs. It felt strange to address him by his last name after he had removed my shoes, but he hadn’t instructed me otherwise. “Good night.”

Four

Sterling was gone by the time I came downstairs the next morning. The bed had lived up to his promise and then some; the featherbed mattress really was cloudlike. The only place I felt more comfortable was in Brooklyn.

He (or Ana) had left out a small breakfast for me in the kitchen: coffee, orange juice, and buttery croissants that were still warm. Next to the breakfast was a business card withBrandon Sterling, Founding Partnerprinted in bold letters. On the back was a note in a broad, curt scrawl:

In case you need a ride.

I stared at the words, wondering exactly what they meant. Then I shoved the card into my purse and sat down to eat.

“Good morning, Skylar!”

Ana walked into the room carrying a large laundry basket full of my bed linens. She was dressed down again in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I was happy to find that Sterling didn’t make his domestic staff dress like BBC characters.

I swallowed a bite of croissant and held up my coffee mug. “Morning. This was you?”

Ana set the basket on the floor just outside the steps leading to the basement and came to stand across the kitchen island from me.

“Actually, no. This was there when I came up in the morning. You must have had a good night, huh?”

Ana winked. I blushed furiously.

“Ah, not exactly,” I stuttered, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

“Skylar, relax, I’m joking. I know you were in the guest room. These are your sheets, yes?” She tossed her head at the laundry, and I relaxed.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Onlymine.” I washed the last of my croissant down with the orange juice, which was clearly fresh-squeezed. “Wow, that’s good. Does he usually get up this early?”

Ana nodded. “He is usually gone by five thirty or so most days to meet with his trainer. Sometimes he comes back to change.” She checked her watch. “If you want to stay another half an hour, you might catch him.”

“Oh, no, I should get going,” I replied. “I can’t believe he doesn’t have a live-in trainer along with his personal chef? How gauche!”

Ana laughed, flapping a delicate hand at me. “You’re bad. He’s nice, actually. As long as I keep things clean, he doesn’t give me problems. Only a few quirks.”

I leaned in curiously. “Quirks? Like what?”

She tapped a fingernail on the counter. “Nothing crazy, really. Like, the fireplace always has to be lit if he’s here at night, even in the middle of summer. Or, he always has me keep a spare toothbrush in his bathroom next to his, even though it’s never used. And there is a fridge that I have to keep stocked with five different types of cheap beer that he never drinks.” She shrugged. “Quirks.”

I frowned. “Other than the fireplace thing, those just sound like preparations for company. Does he have people over a lot?”

“Not the kind who drink bad beer. And not the kind who share his bathroom.” Ana shrugged again, tipping her head to the side in thought. “I think he gets kind of lonely in this big house. Maybe wants to feel like he has someone here with him.”

I pondered that thought and finished the remainder of my juice while she put away some dishtowels.

“Not a coffee drinker?” Ana asked, gesturing toward the other cup still mostly full.

I slid off my stool. “No, not really. I’m a tea drinker.”

“How do you take it?” she asked. “You know, just in case I have to bring it out again.”

I felt suddenly embarrassed at the idea of Ana serving me anything I could easily get myself. I hoped Sterling paid her well. But she just waited expectantly and didn’t seem the slightest bit ashamed by her question.

“Uh, strong and sweet, with milk and a lot of honey,” I answered. “My favorite is Irish Breakfast. But I doubt you’ll ever have to use that information.”