Page 35 of Willowbrooke
“Julie—the nurse,” Leo clarified. “Did you sleep okay?” His brow furrowed as he got a good look at me.
“Yeah. Too well, actually.” I chuckled, trying to ignore the heat of his thigh against mine.
Leo raised a brow, confused by my humor.
“Your mattress was so much more comfortable than the one in the pink room,” I told him. “And I think—” I paused, unsure if I wanted to say what came next, but I did anyway. “I think I felt a lot safer knowing you were right outside,” I admitted.
Leo paused, taking in what I’d said. “I didn’t realize you felt unsafe upstairs.” He seemed upset.
“Not unsafe exactly—just on edge, I guess.” I didn’t quite know how to put to words the uncomfortable feeling that enveloped me, in the dark, alone, in the pink room, with all the odd noises and goings on—it had become oppressive.
“I’m sorry.” Leo’s brow furrowed, perhaps feeling responsible.
He wasn’t.
“Don’t worry about it.” I waved him off. “What were you saying about Julie?”
“Margot was useless—she’s terrible with names and faces. But what’s worse is that I can’t find a single trace of her online—and I’m good at tracking this kind of stuff. It’s like she never existed.”
“How did you find her? Through a referral? Or an agency?” I asked, unsure of how someone finds an at-home hospice nurse.
“I’ll have to call Dad’s doctor and see if they know—she was hired before I came back. Otherwise I know a PI that’s helped me before,” Leo threw out casually.
“You just happen to know a private investigator?” I narrowly avoided choking on my coffee.
“Back when I was consulting—sometimes we’d have to research competitors, fraudulent business claims, or track down leaks on IP.”
“IP?” I’d heard the term before, but couldn’t remember what it stood for.
“Intellectual property—usually proprietary information that made the startup special or unique in the marketplace. Often, startups are taken advantage of, if the people running things aren’t business savvy enough—trusting the wrong people.” He finished his coffee and got up to rinse the mug. “They usually can’t afford physical or cyber security measures either.”
“Huh.” I looked down at my half full mug, again trying to think about anything other than Leo’s thighs.
“Can you handle the flooring guys solo so I can try totrack down our missing nurse?” Leo asked.
“Sure. Danny will be here any minute, and he’ll keep everyone in check.” I laughed, thinking of Danny’s already red face getting redder if the new contractors stepped out of line.
“I’m going to change quick,” Leo told me. I was perplexed for a moment, before I realized he was telling me because we were effectively sharing the same room now.
I felt bad, thinking that because I had invaded his space, he hadn’t been able to wear fresh clothes. I had to remind myself that he had invited me to stay in his room, and he wouldn’t have done so if he wasn’t okay with it.
A few minutes later, Leo was at the door putting his coat on.
“Be safe.” I leaned against the railing of the main staircase, feeling a strange desire to remind him to be cautious—something about the situation just felt off.
“I’ll keep you posted.” He reached out and squeezed my hand. The gesture, having been initiated by him, flared the warmth brewing inside of me.
“Bye,” I sighed as he released me, the loss of his warmth immediate. Maybe my feelings weren’t so one-sided?
Leo almost ran into Danny on his way out.
“Sorry, sir.” Danny bristled.
“Entirely my fault.” Leo chuckled, giving Danny half a wave before heading for his car.
“You ready for some new floors?” Danny’s smilebrightened the room and my mood.
The flooring contractors arrived shortly after Danny and got to work right away stripping the disgusting and decrepit shag carpeting from the second floor. Painstakingly removing every single staple and finishing nail that had kept the carpet in place for decades took us the entire rest of the day.
