Chapter 5
Leah’s face registered surprise as she watched Tara pick up the fruit platter and stop at Shawn’s door. She didn’t know what Tara was thinking and wondered if the latter was interested in someone new now.
Without so much as a glance at Leah, Tara knocked lightly on Shawn’s door.
After a brief pause, Shawn’s voice came from inside, sounding polite and warm. “Come in.”
Tara turned the doorknob. Only then did Leah wheel the serving cart away, her questioning gaze fixed on Tara.
When Tara opened the door, the bedroom’s cool-toned decor and faint lighting gave her an immediate sense of heaviness.
Shawn sat on the couch in loungewear, his tall frame relaxed yet poised with an elegance that naturally drew attention. When he heard the door open, he looked up.
The subdued light seemed to wrap around Tara as she entered, casting a soft glow over her. Her extraordinary beauty and alluring curves became more apparent under his gaze.
His expression remained neutral, but the assessment in his eyes turned to recognition. He had clearly remembered that she was the housekeeper who had upset Jonah.
Shawn didn’t avert his eyes as Tara approached. His gaze remained composed, though he noted that her looks alone could easily ensnare attention.
Tara sensed his evaluating stare but showed no sign of discomfort. She placed the fruit platter on the coffee table.
“Enjoy, Mr. Wilhelm,” she said, then turned and left without hesitation.
Shawn remained silent even as she gently closed the door behind her.
As soon as the door shut, Tara looked to the right and saw Leah emerging from Jonah’s room in a hurry, her face tense with alarm.
Tara didn’t approach. She simply waited, observing as Leah pushed the serving cart toward her.
When Leah reached Tara, bitter resentment surged through her. If Tara hadn’t flirted with Jonah, he wouldn’t be treating Leah with such cold indifference now. His cutting stares had almost left her frozen in place.
Even delivering a simple fruit platter had left Leah unsettled. His harsh expression had nearly brought her to tears.
“Take it,” Leah snapped as she shoved the cart toward Tara with rough impatience, her disdain unmistakable.
Tara barely glanced at her, unfazed by her tone. She then turned and wheeled the cart down the left hallway without saying a single word.
The sooner she finished, the sooner she could rest. She thought that arguing with Leah was pointless. It would just waste time and sour her already indifferent mood.
Leah had expected Tara to snap back, but the latter only rolled her eyes and walked away. Tara’s lack of reaction stoked Leah’s anger, leaving her frustrated and stifled.
Tara wheeled the cart to Soren’s door and knocked, just as she had moments before.
“Who is it?” Soren’s voice came slightly winded.
However, Tara detected nothing unusual. “Mr. Farrell, your fruit platter is here.”
“Wait,” he replied, irritation sharpening his tone.
Outside, Tara missed the impatience in his voice. The door muffled his tone, leaving only his words audible.
After a pause, Soren finally answered. “Come in.”
Tara turned the knob, picked up the fruit platter from the cart, and stepped inside.
Soren looked freshly showered, his hair damp, his sharp features drawn into a frown. He lounged on the couch in sleek silk pajamas, legs spread, absently clicking the TV remote. A box of tissues sat near the couch.
Having no experience with relationships, Tara didn’t realize what Soren had been doing before she arrived.
Recognizing her, Soren’s impatience sharpened into visible annoyance. She had interrupted at the worst possible moment.
“You again,” he said, his distaste for her evident.
Tara set the platter on the table, undisturbed by his hostility. “I’m assigned to deliver the fruit platters today, Mr. Farrell. If you prefer someone else, you can discuss it with Gemma.”
The generous pay made detachment effortless, and she certainly wasn’t about to protest the lighter workload.
When Soren looked up irritably, he was met with her clear, uncomprehending gaze. She genuinely didn’t realize what she’d interrupted.
“Fine. Just leave,” he said.
After placing the fruit platter on the table, Tara retreated several paces, ensuring she kept a respectful distance from Soren. The instant he finished speaking, she turned and left without hesitation.
Soren watched her retreat with amusement before dismissing the thought entirely. Why bother thinking about a housekeeper? He shook his head and moved on.
Tara pushed the cart to Lance’s door and knocked.
“Come in.”
The sound of guitar strings greeted her as she opened the door. After a brief glance inside, she took the fruit platter and entered.
Lance held his guitar, his loosely curled hair framing his relaxed posture. His striking face remained lowered, his long, graceful fingers drifting over the strings. Every movement was flawless.
Tara set the fruit platter down and exited just as quietly.
The guitar’s melody flowed uninterrupted by her brief presence. Lance never lifted his gaze, unconcerned with who had entered.
Tara gently closed the door, humming softly as she guided the cart to the elevator.
Finally, her shift ended. The hours were long, but the pay made it worthwhile. It was nearly double what she’d earned in her past life, back when the work had been twice as exhausting.
Tara chose to be content. Since her contract required her to stay, she focused on saving up. She’d have a substantial nest egg by the time her term was up.
The villa’s grand hall stood empty, its brilliant lights doing little to fill the cavernous space. Tara stepped out of the elevator, hurried the cart to the kitchen, and made straight for her room.
As she passed through the empty hall, an unexplained tapping sound sent every horror movie scene she’d ever watched flashing through her mind. A chill crept down her spine. Hugging herself, she broke into a silent sprint.
Soren, who was coming down the stairs to get himself some wine, froze mid-step as Tara streaked past like a phantom. He frowned in bewilderment.
Tara returned to her room, found her sleepwear, and enjoyed a soothing hot shower. Weariness overtook her, and she fell asleep almost as soon as she laid down.
Her sleep was restless. When she awoke, the first light of morning had appeared.
Terence required housekeepers to stand by during breakfast. He expected them to be prepared to attend to the four men’s needs.
However, due to having provoked Jonah two days ago, Tara had been instructed to avoid his presence. That was why she was the only one who was absent from the dining area yesterday.
Tara assumed that that morning would mirror yesterday’s routine. She was already heading toward the staff dining area when Terence intercepted her.
“Tara, where are you off to?” he called out, observing her leisurely stroll toward the staff dining area.
“To eat breakfast,” she answered truthfully.
Rather than scolding her, Terence said, “Breakfast can wait. The dining area is short-staffed. Go lend a hand there first.”
After excluding her yesterday to avoid angering Jonah again, the remaining housekeepers had struggled through breakfast service. The dismissal of another staff member had only compounded the chaos.
Tara reminded him. “Mr. Oakley, about Mr. Pearson…”
She feared provoking Jonah’s temper this early in the day, not to mention risking a deduction from her paycheck.
Terence thought that Jonah’s anger had probably subsided after two days. Moreover, Tara had kept to herself since the incident.
“Stand behind Mr. Swain later,” he directed after a moment’s thought.
Tara paused before voicing her concern. “What if Mr. Pearson gets angry? You wouldn’t dock my pay over this, right?”
Her cautious question unexpectedly drew a chuckle from Terence. “No, it won’t.”
Then, his expression hardened. “But what happened before can’t repeat itself.”
Tara nodded immediately. “You have my word, Mr. Oakley. It won’t happen again.”
Terence found himself reassured by her sincere expression.
In the first-floor dining area, four men sat around the expansive table. Each possessed striking features, an imposing physique, and an air of quiet refinement.
They exchanged a few words, none seeming inclined toward conversation.
