Book 2 —C22
When Angelo left, it hurt. It shouldn’t bother me, but he was so cold, so dismissive, and so uninterested. It’s as if he gave me no further consideration after he told me to leave last night and I’m the fool who spent the rest of it reliving every soft touch and loving gesture, thinking it was more than it was.
Like I said, I feel like a fool and so, with a sigh, I start gathering the dishes in a bid to help Mrs.
Bourne, at least.
I’m part of the way done when the door opens and a young woman heads inside with an expression of horror on her face when she sees what I’m doing.
“Ma’am, please, I’m sorry.”
“What for?” I’m confused, and she hurries to the table and starts gathering the dishes. “I have displeased you. I am late. Please forgive me.”
“Hey, what’s going on? You haven’t done anything of the kind. Stop.”
She faces me with fear in her eyes and her breathing is heavy, telling me how scared she is, and I say kindly, “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, but I wanted to help. That’s all.”
“Help?” Her eyes are wide, and I laugh softly. “It’s kind of boring being a stranger in town. I had nothing to do, so decided I’d pass the time.”
“But…” “But nothing. I’m only human, like you, and need a challenge. The fact my husband has disappeared and I’m not sure what to do with myself meant I took matters into my own hands. I’m sorry if I caused you concern.”
I smile and hold out my hand. “Let’s start again. I’m Jasmine and you are…” The fact she looks horrified at the mere act of touching me makes me roll my eyes. “I don’t bite.”
A shy, nervous smile is my answer, and she clasps my hand briefly, “Marianne. I’m Mrs. Bourne’s assistant.”
“Oh, she never said.”
Nodding toward the chair that Angelo vacated earlier, I smile. “Please sit down. Perhaps we can get acquainted over coffee and a pastry.”
She looks as if I’ve asked her to kill herself and I laugh out loud. “I insist. Boss’s orders.”
She is obviously hating every minute of this, and I sigh. “Please, if anyone asks, I’ll tell them I forced you. You see, I want to understand how things work around here, and I’m not talking about the official version either.”
She looks curious and, to my relief, perches awkwardly on the edge of her seat.
“What do you want to know?”
She sounds nervous and I grin. “Well, first, how do you take your coffee? Cream and sugar, or black.”
“Um, white with no sugar please, Mrs. Sontauro, ma’am.”
“Call me Jasmine when we’re alone. I don’t want to make things difficult for you, so I’ll act the part when others are around.”
I drop her a wink and pour her coffee and she glances over her shoulder nervously, “Mrs. Bourne won’t…” “Like this? Leave her to me. She can join us if she likes, and we can form an alliance of sorts. A household meeting with the newest lady of the house. That could work.”
She surprises me by grinning, and it completely transforms her. Her eyes sparkle and as she relaxes, I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God, someone to talk to at last.
“So, Marianne, how long have you worked here?”
“Two years ma…” I raise my eyes and she whispers, “Um, Jasmine.”
“Better.” I nod my approval.
“Do you like it?” My question catches her off-guard, and she smiles, which indicates she’s happy, at least, which is good to see.”
“I love it. It’s a great job. I live here with my husband and young daughter, Freya.”
Her entire expression softens as she speaks of her daughter, and I lean forward. “Tell me about your family.”
“My husband is one of the soldiers, Sam. We met in a bar in town and the rest is history. We married and had Freya and now live here.”
She makes it sound almost normal and I smile. “In this house.”
“No.” She laughs. “Only Roberto and Mrs. Bourne have a room in the mansion.”
“What, are they together?” I stare at her in surprise and love how she laughs out loud. “No, definitely not. They have their own rooms, probably, so they’re on hand for the Don.”
“That figures.” I lean back and tear into a pastry that tastes much better than it looks. “So, how does it work?”
She smiles happily and appears to have relaxed a little. “There are a few of us married couples who live a short distance from the main house. A small community really and our kids play together and have a good life.”
“You’re kidding? You mean there’s a small town in here? Well, I’m knocked sideways.”
She giggles. “It’s safer that way. We are protected and can go about life with no worries.”
“I see.”
It reminds me of how fragile our lives are and the fact we are constantly living under the threat of a rival family coming to fight a war, or the local authorities raiding the place to lock up the criminals and rid the streets of the drugs and violence that makes up the family business.
The Rossi empire was the same. We had our soldiers and their families, but they never lived within the grounds. Many had apartments in the city and tried to hide their involvement with my family. It was typical of my parents not wanting to pay to keep their staff safe. There was no loyalty in the Rossi organization from the Don or his wife. It was them or nothing, and the rest had to run to keep up and seeing the care Angelo gives to his staff makes me happy. I like this picture she’s painting, and I smile.
“I’d love to see it. Possibly meet your daughter, Freya. Would that be ok with you?”
“Of course.” She looks shocked that I asked and I’m suddenly lighter in spirit than earlier as I finish my coffee and say with a burst of enthusiasm, “Let’s go now. It will be good to have something to occupy my time.”
“But the breakfast things.” She reminds me she has a job to do, and I say brightly, “I’ll help you.”
“I’m sorry, um, Jasmine. I can’t let you do that; it wouldn’t be acceptable.”
I forgot her position here for a moment and say with a sigh. “Of course, I’m sorry. When is your break?”
“Eleven, ma’am, I mean Jasmine.”
“OK, I’ll meet you in the kitchen and I’ll explain to Mrs. Bourne that I demanded you take me on a tour of the staff quarters. If she wants to come too, she’s more than welcome.”
Marianne nods with relief. “Thank you, Jasmine.”NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.
Her face flushes as she says my name, and I understand it will take time for her to be comfortable around me, but I’m no stranger to winning the staff over. Both Daphne and I were constant visitors to the staff room, with and without their knowledge sometimes. The things we overheard were delicious pieces of information we would talk about at night in hushed whispers. Affairs between staff members, tales of our own parent’s misdemeanors and stories of rival families that were spoken of in hushed tones. Yes, if we wanted to find anything out, we knew exactly where to go, and this will be no different. If I am to be mistress of this house, for my own preservation, I need to keep the staff on my side.
AS I HEAD to my room after breakfast, my thoughts return to Angelo. It was as if he switched off after giving me yet another orgasm to celebrate our contract. He withdrew and never came back. This morning it was as if he couldn’t wait to get away from me and I’m disturbed to find I’m craving his company. It’s like the biggest rejection ever because of what we shared yesterday. It was such an epic day in my life, and I hoped we could be friends at least. Even that has surprised me because I didn’t expect it. It’s almost as if he has a softer side he hates. I saw it in his eyes several times. One minute he was cold and then a flame burned brightly in his eyes as he said something sweet and out of character. If anything, it gives me something to work on at least, and as I reach my room, I cast my eye down the hall toward the sex room.
I almost laugh out loud because who the fuck installs a sex room between bedrooms? Surely a husband and wife should sleep together and if not, at least share the visits. Why a room between them like no-man’s-land? Neutral territory giving them personal space away from each other.
Did he mean what he said about taking a mistress or three because it causes me concern?
Imagining myself leaving my room and meeting them in the hallway makes me sick. Flushed from the multiple orgasms, he would probably give them to show me what I turned down.
The trouble is, I was so curious, and it wasn’t as frightening as I imagined it would be. I credit him for that because of how gentle he was and despite his behavior, I’m looking forward to seeing what seven thirty brings later this evening.
When I step inside my room, it feels so empty. This is better than I hoped for and certainly better than what I left, except for one thing. Daphne isn’t here and I long to reach for the phone and call her just to listen to her soft voice, but there doesn’t appear to be one which doesn’t surprise me because we were never allowed that luxury at home. More than anything, I hope she’s ok and keeping her head down because now I’ve gone, she will have to deal with our parents on her own and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.