time of the accident?”
“No.” Aaron said darkly. “I’ve told you, Dr. Winston says I likely never will. I’m lucky I can remember how to brush my damned teeth.”
“Well. A few lost months aren’t too great a price to pay for being alive, hmm?”
“What about Montgomery Enterprises? How’s business?”
“Fine. Just fine. You don’t need to worry about that. Everything’s chugging along.”
They started to talk about the company. I slipped away. I was relieved that my job was safe—for now, anyway. But the conversation left an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
I didn’t like Emmanuel. I supposed that was a selfish way to feel. But I didn’t like the way he’d talked to Aaron. Then again, they obviously had a long history I knew nothing about. He was old enough to be Aaron’s father, and he worked for Montgomery Enterprises. Was he a trustee for Aaron? Something official like that? Or just a family friend?
I was conveniently weeding along the driveway when Emmanuel’s car drove past. He rolled to a stop and lowered the window. Wow—that car was something else, all sleek and black with a gorgeous tan leather interior. It was an Audi. Man.
“Hi, Billy,” he said dryly. “Can I have a word?”
I dropped my weeding tool and went over to the window. I figured he wouldn’t appreciate dirt on his car, so I stuck my hands in the back pockets of my jean shorts. “What can I do for you, sir?”
He studied my face. “I hear you’re doing a good job here. I must say, I can see an improvement.”
“Thank you. This is a beautiful place.”
He looked at me dubiously, as if he was not a fan of Malfleur. “Look, if you’re going to continue to work here, we need to get some paperwork in place. I’ll need a signed NDA immediately. It’s very important, Billy, that you not speak about Malfleur, or about—” He hesitated. “About Aaron with anyone. Not with your family, not with friends, and absolutely, positively never online.”
“I understand.”
“Now, have you already talked to anyone? Or posted about Malfleur? Tell me now. I know Aaron didn’t explain the situation to you, and you weren’t on an NDA. So if you tell me everything you’ve said or posted up to now, you won’t be to blame. But I must know. And don’t even think about fudging on this. Because I will have your social media tracked down. I’ll know if you’re lying to me.”
Geez. I felt like I was on a witness stand. His aggressive tone and he-who-must-be-obeyed confidence was intimidating as hell.
“No, I haven’t been on my Twitter or Instagram for at least three months.” I spoke as calmly and reassuringly as I could.
“Facebook? TikTok?”
I shook my head. “Don’t have accounts there.”
He studied my face with those sharp eyes, as if he could see whether or not I was lying. “Good,” he finally said. “What about your friends? They might post about it.”
“Um. I mentioned to two friends that I was working at an estate on Hillcrest. But we didn’t get into the details, not even the name of this place. They’re away at college so I don’t think they care very much. My mom knows, but she won’t tell anyone. She doesn’t go out really.”
I opted not to mention my conversation with Mrs. Delphi. She was just an old lady. I doubted she even had a computer. And honestly, it was none of his damned business.
“Your mother knows what, exactly?”
“That I’m working for a large estate on Hillcrest.”
“Malfleur?”
“I probably said the name to her, yeah.”
“And you told her who’re you working for,” he pressed.
My heart thumped. I knew what he was fishing for. Did I admit that I knew Aaron was really Sebastian Aaron Montgomery IV? Or did I lie? I decided to play dumb.
“She knows I work for a guy named Aaron. He’s the caretaker here, right?” I was impressed by how convincingly naive I sounded.
Emmanuel sniffed. “Caretaker. Yes, Aaron is the caretaker.” He said this slowly, as if testing the sound of it. “Are you a college student, Billy?”
“Yeah, I go to Ever After College.”
“I see.” He looked around and behind him in the mirror. “And you’ve done all this work on the property? By yourself?”
“Yeah. I like working with plants!” I nodded eagerly.
Okay, maybe I was laying the dumb act on a bit thick. My gut said I needed to make Emmanuel think I wasn’t a threat. And I wasn’t. Obviously. But he seemed to need convincing.
His face relaxed. “That’s good. That’s good.