“The best princesses are made of chaos and fairy dust, and they carry their own swords.”
From the T-shirt collection of Anna Collins
Gray came into the room looking satisfied and smug. His eyes found me, and he jerked his head sharply. “Is everything working properly?”
“It is. I’ve double-checked the locations of every alarm and camera in the house. The system is set to arm automatically at midnight and disarm at six a.m. unless you do a manual override. In that case you’ll have to reset manually as well,” I said as we walked.
“Set the system to manual before you leave tonight. I have a guest coming after everyone’s gone.”
Gray smirked, and I glanced at the back stairs. The young woman was named Colette Collins, according to Marcel. Gray arched an eyebrow at the direction of my gaze. “She was my architect’s girlfriend. It didn’t seem quite politic at the time, but now that the house is done, well …” He let the thought dangle as though stealing a girlfriend was just another day for him.
And yet, I still didn’t see it. The woman in question was far too … unbridled for him. The word sounded strange, even to my own mind, but it was too easy to picture Sterling Gray as a man who insisted on reins. That thought led to analogies of stables and riding, and the strength of my reaction to the idea of them together was disturbing. This woman was irrepressible. She would not submit to Gray easily, and the thought of her doing so offended me.
“You’ll need to reset the system from one of the panels yourself, then. The cameras will still record throughout the house, of course, but no alarms will sound.” I sounded disinterested and professional to my own ears, but perhaps Gray had picked up the tone of my thoughts, because he snapped defensively.
“As long as the alarms you installed for the artwork frames work. You have nothing to worry about unless your system fails.”
I bristled at the arrogance in his tone, the result of which was impeccable politeness on my part.
“I’ll leave you to your evening, Mr. Gray, as you seem to have no further need of my company’s services tonight.”
I inclined my head very slightly and turned to walk away. Gray called after me in a voice I was sure he meant to be friendly. “Tell Quinn Sullivan my father will see him on the links next time he’s in town.”
I didn’t respond, and my eyes searched the room for Ms. Collins automatically. She was nowhere in sight, though I supposed that if Gray wanted the security system turned off for her to return later, she could already be gone.
In fact, she stood just outside the front door waiting for her car when I’d finished with the alarm. She was visible to me through the leaded glass panes, and she appeared to shimmer under the lights. It was an appropriate description of her, and explained much more than her appearance.
“You’re leaving so soon, Mr. Masoud?” the butler asked, as he retrieved my topcoat from the closet and handed it to me.
“It was nice to see you again, Marcel.” I gave him a quick handshake and opened the door just as a dark sedan pulled into the circular driveway and the shimmery woman slid into the back seat.
She looked up at me through the window, and the surprise on her face seemed disproportionate to my sudden appearance. I smiled at her and raised my hand to wave, which may have startled me as much as it did her. She raised her eyebrows and then laughed as she gave me an exaggerated parade wave as the car drove away.
I chuckled to myself. “What a remarkably strange young woman.”
“Remarkably lovely, I’d say,” said Marcel from just behind me. He held the door for an older couple who were preoccupied on their cell phones and ignored both of us.
“What do you know about her?” I asked in a quiet voice as the couple swept past me to the valet.
“She seemed different tonight from the other times I’ve seen her, but maybe that was just because she came alone and may have been nervous. She’s always kind and takes a moment to say hello, but I’ve never had much reason to speak to her otherwise.”
“Gray said she dates his architect?” I said, and then immediately wanted to recall the words. I didn’t actually want to know, because who Ms. Collins dated was absolutely none of my business.
“I suppose so, though I can’t rightly say. She and Mr. MacGregor seemed friendly enough, but Ms. Collins was always a little bit removed. Maybe that’s the difference. She was friendlier tonight. She looked me in the eye and thanked me when she said good night. There aren’t many besides yourself who see me as more than the doorstop,” Marcel said, with the slightest glance at the older couple now stepping into the back of a chauffeur-driven Mercedes.
I deliberately wiped the image of Ms. Collins out of my mind and threw Marcel a wave as I started toward the street where I’d left my old Land Cruiser parked under a streetlight. “Have a good night, my friend.”
“You too, Mr. Masoud,” he called after me. “I’ll see you again soon.”
“Very likely,” I said under my breath as I walked, thinking about Sterling Gray and his penchant for prioritizing sex over a properly armed security system.