The Vessel - Jenika Snow Page 0,19

in goodbye then headed inside. I did the same routine as I always did when I got home.

Briefcase by the door. Keys in a little dish sitting on the foyer table. Jacket hanging on the hook on the wall.

The scent of dinner filled the air. It looked like Roberto was making Italian tonight.

I stood in the foyer for a minute just looking around. The place I now called home was one of the Blacksmith family’s many residence, but I’d decided to permanently move into this house after graduating college.

But this house was way too fucking big for just me, and I could have gotten rid of it, downsized, but here I was, maybe too lazy, maybe too comfortable with everything already in place.

And so I stayed.

although my childhood had bene cold because of my father, I still harbored good memories while growing up. I had played hide and seek with some of the staff when I was a child, comforted when I had fallen and hurt myself by the nanny. I’d enjoyed my private tutoring lessons for Italian, Spanish, and French. I’d eaten the fresh chocolate cookies one of the maids baked once a week for me, sat at the table with Sharon, the plate in front of me having three big cookies, a tall glass of cold milk beside that. She told me stories, ones she told her children when they were younger, then her grandchildren, and then me.

I had a lot of good memories, and it was all I had anymore, sentimental thoughts and feelings that no one, not even my father, could ever take away.

I headed into the kitchen and saw Roberto cleaning up. He’d have dinner in the oven, a couple servings just for me. I told him to give the rest—the massive amounts he always made—to the staff to take home to their families.

“Smells good, Roberto.”

He looked over his shoulder and gave a wide smile. “It tastes even better,” he said with pride in his voice. “My grandmother’s secret marinara recipe.” He made a pleasurable humming nose, and there was no doubt he spoke the truth.

“I’m sure it’s incredible.” Despite my mind being heavy and the idea of dinner previously unappealing, the thought of eating Roberto’s amazing Italian cuisine had my appetite perking up.

“As per usual, I’ve left two servings in the oven on warm in aluminum containers—for dinner tonight and seconds, or one for a meal tomorrow, if you are inclined.” He washed and dried his hands then gave me a nod as he started retreating. “Buon appetito.”

“Thank you, Roberto.” I watched as he left the kitchen, and then I stood there alone. I thought about getting a couple beers for dinner, but decided against it. Alcohol was the last thing I needed.

Instead, I went over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, shut the door, and set it on the counter. After getting the two meals out, one I’d let cool and put in the fridge for tomorrow, I heard approaching footsteps. I assumed it was Roberto, but after listening more closely, I realized the steps were light, softer.

Feminine.

I hadn’t told the few staff left in the house to leave for the rest of the night yet, so I turned to face the entry to pass the message along when I a swath of dark caught my eye. Leaning to the side slightly, I saw her bend over to set her bag on the floor by the door.

Elise.

I’d know that curvy ass anywhere. I certainly checked it out enough times. She stood, and I noticed a light sweater slung over her arm, watched as she was about to put it on, and called her name out. “Elise?”

I shouldn’t have. I should have let her leave, but I called for her before I could stop myself.

She looked over her shoulder at me, the long fall of her hair brushing against the middle of her back. This was the first time I’d seen her wear hair loose, swinging free, although I’d seen it briefly before she put it up when she first started working for me. I realized how much I loved it, how silky the strands looked, how dark they were.

It was like liquid silk moving along her back.

Suddenly, she faced forward. I watched as her body tensed, felt my brows knit in confusion. And then she finally turned and headed into the kitchen. It was then I saw the reason for her sudden nervousness.

A dark bruise marred her right cheek, the