Chapter Two

I'm home.

I feel it in my bones as the cab rolls past the immense iron gates. I hope that maybe I'll catch a glimpse of Jonathan. Maybe he'll be out in the garden and I'll be able to pass innocently by and say hello.

It would be nice just to see him.

The house comes into view. It's practically a castle. There are two tennis courts, multiple swimming pools, gardens, gazebos, patios, tea gardens, a koi pond, and a solarium. The house has sixteen bedrooms, a matching number of bathrooms, and three kitchens. The wine cellar is bigger than most houses.

There's a good reason why this house needs a butler. The house is bigger and has more amenities than some hotels.

The cab drops me off in front of the main house rather than the tiny apartment above the storage area. It's not a far walk, so I don't protest. I can pretend to this one cab driver that I belong here. That I'm not broke and from a poor family. I pay him, giving a good tip. As far as this cab driver is concerned, I'm the billionaire heiress that owns this whole place.

Not just the butler's daughter.

Familiar scents and sounds fill my ears. I smell gardenias and roses in the garden mixed with the soft scent of warm summer trees. The buzz of lawn mowers is in the distance and everywhere I look, people are scurrying and hurrying around making sure the house is picture perfect.

Everything is exactly the way I left it. There's the garage with the apartment I grew up in perched above it. The house and the grounds. The neat paths of crushed gravel and the carefully manicured gardens and lawns.

This was the last place I saw Jonathan. He was, of course, with another girl. They were sitting under a tree having a picnic. She laughed at his jokes and he smiled at her. Neither one of them had seen me near the front door. I'd been invisible then, just the hired help.

He'd leaned over and kissed her, putting his hand in her hair as he tasted her.

I'd imagined that I was that girl so many times. I'd imagined what it would feel like to have Jonathan kiss me under a tree in the summer.

In my mind, it was always heaven. I sigh and begin the walk around the main house and to my father's small apartment.

That's when I see him.

Jonathan is out playing tennis. He's just as I remember him. Better even.

He's tall and trim as he effortless runs after the ball. He's got lush brown hair that styled in a carefree way that I know takes forever. I can't see them from here, but I know he has piercing blue eyes that make all the girls go weak in the knees.

He's laughing as he lobs the ball back to his companion. I consider walking over and saying hello, but I'm still in my traveling clothes and I have two suitcases with me. I haven't done my hair and I'm sure I'm a mess.

I sigh, and leave Jonathan behind yet again.

Tucked back behind the trees and out of sight is a building for storage. This is where they keep the lawn mowers and pool equipment. This is where spare tables and pavilions wait for the lavish dinner parties the Lewis family loves to throw. This is where they keep all the things that make the house look beautiful and the parties run smoothly. It's all out of sight. Just like my father, the butler. Integral, but unseen.

There's a set of wooden stairs with a rickety handrail leading up to the apartment. My father has replaced the rail three times, but it always seems to be loose no matter how many nails and screws he uses.

I run up the stairs and open the door to my childhood home.

My father is in the small kitchen, a frown on his face as he opens and closes drawers. He's still wearing his butler's uniform, but the jacket is unbuttoned and his tie is crooked. I can hear him mumbling about always losing his keys as he checks another drawer.

He looks older than when I saw him last, although, in my mind he'll always be the giant of a man that can do anything. In my head, he's the man he was when I was seven and could keep the monsters away just by growling into the closet.

There's more gray in his hair now and less hair in general. He's thinner and more worn. His brown eyes are still warm and bright, but there are wrinkles around them that aren't in my childhood memories.

I came home from the Caribbean when the doctor's first found something two years ago. I'd nearly stayed, but Dad had insisted that I go back after the surgery. I'd called him everyday and had the other household staff giving me daily updates. He'd been fine, but it had been stressful.

We'd lost my mother when I was six. I didn't want to lose him too. I set my bags down by the door.

“Nora!” My father's eyes light up as he sees me in the doorway. The years fall away from him, and suddenly he looks like the man in my head again. “You're home!”

He hurries across the living room, dodging the small coffee table piled high with books. He wraps me up in a giant bear hug that makes me feel small and safe again. I close my eyes, breathing in the scents of silver polish and freshly washed linens.

“Hi, Dad.” I'm home now.

“Let me look at you,” he says, pulling back and holding me at arm's length. “You look more like your mother everyday, thank the lord. I like the way you have your hair. The lighter color suits you and I love the cut.”

Yet again, my hand goes to my hair and smooths out the light blonde strands. “Julie made me get rid of the bangs,” I tell him. “You like it?”

“I love it,” he assures me with a smile. “It's much more you.”

I grin at him. “Thanks, Dad.”

“How did you get here?” he asks, pulling me back in for one more quick hug. “I was just coming to get you.”

I bend over and pick his car keys up from a stack of books and hand them to him. “I took a cab. I figured it was something with the family, especially since you didn't call.”

My father refuses to answer his personal cell phone during working hours. When he is on duty, that is all he does. He takes his job very seriously.

I go to my bags, happy to have an excuse to talk about something other than Jonathan. While he might be my favorite subject, Jonathan is not my father's preferred conversation topic.

“I got you some things,” I say, going to one of the bags. I unzip the zipper and dig around for a moment before I find what I'm looking for. “Here.”

Dad laughs as I hand him the gifts I got for him this time. There's a bottle of good Caribbean rum, a sailing ship made from driftwood, and a pirate hat.

Dad puts the hat on his head and squints one eye. “Arrrgh, matey!”

I can't help but laugh. I love to see this silly side of him. It's a side so few get to see. As a butler, it's his job to be polite and perfect. There is no goofiness or playfulness when he's with the Family. With them, he's a paragon of polite subservience. With me, he's silly and playful.

I love my dad.

“These are lovely. Thank you.” He kisses my cheek, making me smile. His eyes narrow. “You ready for your conference?”

I nod. “I'll go to the city tomorrow and hopefully come home with a new job.”

I better. I'm not sure I can walk past Jonathan again without my heart breaking.