Chapter 260


    I swallow it down in agitation and walk to the kitchen, to fix myself something to eat. I’ve found that I


    have a love of cooking now since I have all the time in the world to leisurely stand around in this


    beautiful chef’s dream. Sarah would love it. I’m sure she’d be proud of how domesticated I’ve be,


    knowing my way around a kitchen. I’m liking not having a cook until she returns at the end of the week,


    it’s somehow enjoyable making meals with love and caring precision for Jake and me to enjoy.


    Maybe I’ll follow in Sylvana’s footsteps and cook for my own family once or twice a week like she does.


    Soon the noise of drilling and male chatter andughter annoys me enough to send me to my room for


    refuge, at least in here I can turn on the TV or run a bath and lock them all out. Therge hall echoes


    around downstairs and amplifies it to incredibly ridiculous proportions. Somehow so much louder today.


    The bed still smells of Jake and has retained some of his body heat locked between the sheets, so I go


    and curl into his side and wrap the nkets around me to drown out the chaos and take a nap.


    I am exhausted enough to try to get some sleep. I’m too tired to exchange pleasantries with the


    workman today and even Monica isn’t around for me to roll my eyes at.


    Thank God.


    Her overly eager eye fluttering and sexy smiles at Jake every five minutes are slowly bringing out inner


    violent Emmately. The woman simply has no scruples at all. She reminds me of the bored rich


    bitches Jake and I would meet at every event; those who hung on him and his every word despite their


    husbands standing close by.


    The downside to a popr hot man!


    This material belongs to N?velDrama.Org.


    The noise is too much, even in here, and I give up. I haul my restless body out of bed and resign


    myself to getting dressed; every intention of spending today in the sce of Sylvana’s kitchen, hoping


    for some inner calm and serenity … if not for me then at least for the baby. If I have the possibility of


    avoiding thest day of banging and hammering, surrounded by strange men, then I will. I’m uneasy


    here without Jake so going to see his mamma with her gorgeous weing heart will be afortable


    break.


    I swear maxi dresses were made for thefort of pregnant women; in one fell swoop I’m dressed and


    ready


    to get on with the day since I am begrudgingly forced out


    of bed by the invasive chaos. I tap down the stairs of the stairwell and slip my feet into the ballet pumps


    I have lying by the entrance to the living area. I can’t seem to go anywhere downstairs without ayer


    of dust settling on my feet; at least after today that should hopefully be over. I pick up my bag and drop


    my cell into it then head out to leave.


    “Miss. Anderson?” One of the burly men calls to me as I’m walking for the door through the main hall


    downstairs.


    “Yes?” I turn sharply, Jake normally deals directly with the workmen while Monica and I focus on the


    décor, blissfully ignorant to the construction work going on; that’s Jake’s kind of thing. It’s unusual for


    them to address me directly.


    “We should be out of your hair by noon at thetest, ma’am. Just wondering what you’d like us to do


    with the keys if you’re not back?” He regards me with a rxed business-like expression on his face


    and my insides instantly calm, no danger here. Old Emma always rears up inside of me when I am


    faced with unexpected, strange men.


    “Drop them next door if I’m out. I’ll either be there or close by. Sylvana is my mother-inw so that’s


    fine.” I smile gratefully.


    “Sure thing.” He nods at me and lets me on my way, walking out into the warm day and I chew my lip a


    little. I didn’t know this whole time they’d been gaining ess with their own key. I assumed Mathews


    or someone at Sylvana’s had been letting them in and out; and it bothers me, a lot. Those random men


    have keys and ess codes to my house and it’s grating on my inner calm, old Emma showing face


    and trying like hell to point out the dangers in it, in a rather disturbing way, through visions of what


    those men could do to me. I’m d to be leaving and more relieved at this being theirst day.


    I’ll ask Jake to change the locks and the codes when he’s home, that’ll make me feel better. How could


    he have forgotten to tell me that the contract workers have full ess to the house? Maybe it’s just


    something that richer people are used to.


    I sigh inwardly and head to my second home; a huge smile on my face and a rumbling stomach despite


    having eaten. Sylvana’s cream cannelloni are singing to me across


    the grassyne, as is a morning curled on the couch with


    her like yesterday. Cocoa mugs and daytime soaps, chatting our boredom away. This new way of life is


    starting to agree with me.


    * * *


    I leave Sylvana’s not realizing howte in the evening it is, and let myself into the house, the entrance


    hall is inplete darkness, so I p my hands to switch on the lights.


    Jake and his gadgets.


    It’s eerily quiet and peaceful in here, now I can see my hall minus a lot of tools and mess and protective


    sheeting. I blink around appreciatively and ce my bag on the uncovered side unit and sigh with


    annoyance when I notice that damn crowbar, from here you can just spot it between the rails. The


    workman who left it on the stairs in the first ce obviously hadn’t realized that Jake moved it, so here


    it is still in my house, hanging halfway up my banister where Jake left it.


    Every other tool in the ce is gone just not that. I suppose given the color of the vertical dark metal


    railings it’s easy to miss a crowbar hanging dejectedly beside them; simr in color, it would be easy to


    slip from eye sight at every other angle in the house but this one.


    I head for the stairs to save my beautiful wooden handrail from the ugly metal bar, but my phone ringing


    distracts me, drawing me back to the entrance way. Jake has kept in contact a few times today and I


    spoke to him on my cell at his mamma’s before I came home so it’s probably him; making sure I


    managed to walk the fifty yards back home without injury or getting lost. I walk to my bag and fish it out,


    seeing Mathews name sh up on the screen. It’s strange for Mathews to ring me so I instantly inhale


    like something’s wrong, internally tensing.


    “Hello?” I ask in a friendly tone.


    “Miss. Anderson, good evening. I’m just calling to inform you that I’m on my way back.” Oh, of course.


    He’s been out collecting some things I ordered from a nearby home décor boutique. Sylvana sent him


    to get them earlier since I was at her house for the day and he was hanging around waiting for


    something to do. Since Sylvana has security at her house it seemed a waste to not let Mathews out for


    a few hours. He’s probably only been gone an hour at most anyway.


    “Okay, that’s me home now so I’ll probably go upstairs and take a bath, you can retire for the night.” I


    smile as I say it, so he’ll get warmth in my tone. Mathews has a fatherly quality to him that is growing


    on me; he makes me feel safe in the same way Jake does and I’m starting to wonder if that’s why Jake


    has entrusted me into Mathews care, because he knows that I feel this way about Mathews. So, in a


    way it’s like Jake is watching over me even in his absence.


    “Very good, Miss. Anderson. I’ll check the house and lock up before I go to my own quarters. Have a


    good night.” His friendly yet efficient tone is as close to unprofessional as I’ll ever get with him; the man


    is all business.


    “Good night,” I breathe softly and hang up, remembering suddenly that we never got the keys back.


    The workmen must’ve forgotten to bring them to Sylvana’s or took them home ready to bring in


    tomorrow. These contract workers are so ipetent, their inability to follow instructions and keep a


    clear workspace irritates me. I call Mathews back immediately.


    “Miss. Anderson is there something else?” He sounds very business-like and professional again


    instantly, never missing a beat.


    “Yes, Mathews. The workers have finished here but they didn’t leave the keys as instructed.” I sigh


    heavily, irritation creasing at my forehead and I look around overwhelmed at the high-tech door locks


    and fan dangled things that I haven’t a clue of how to operate. Those keys do everything.


    “I’ll deal with it, ma’am. I’ll collect them before I return; may I suggest, in the meantime, you can arm the


    house with the code 101, it’s a temporary rm that can only be bypassed with a code that only Mr.


    Carrero and I have.” Smooth efficiency and no hint of worry; he instantly makes me feel better.


    “Thank you, yes. I shall do.” I smile, knowing how safety conscious Mathews is and the thought of that


    little bit of extra security makes me feel better; at least I won’t have to mess with the crazy looking


    boxes on the door I assume are locks.


    I wander to the digital panel on the inner wall of the entrance and arm the rm, making sure the doors


    and windows down here are shut securely first, then grab my bag and head upstairs in a much more


    rxed mood.