A Legacy of the Damned: Daughter of Astaroth

Chapter 22 - The Rooftop Affair

The cook arrives not long after Sacha left for work. It's the same lady who prepared my lunch and dinner yesterday morning.

Molly, that's her name. I don't usually make an effort to get to know the staff, but I figure, in this situation, it will be to my advantage to make nice with the cook. Besides, I'm bored.

The problem is, as soon as she arrives, the two guards make it their business to stand inside the apartment, right by the door. I can't believe how very paranoid these people are and here I thought I look very trustworthy.

"So, how long have you been working here?" I ask Molly from my perch on the barstool. My arms and elbows are resting on the quartz countertop in front of me.

"Here? Not long... I used to work at Mr. Gauthier's penthouse in Seattle. He flew me here on Saturday. I suppose it's easier than hiring someone new. This is my first time in New York City," she explains while her hands are busily and expertly chopping the bell pepper, onion, and tomato.

Ahhh... I see. So he flew her here because of me? "I suppose that makes sense. He doesn't usually spend too much time here in New York to need a full-time cook," I comment casually, trying not to sound as if I'm fishing for information.

"Yes, he's here only a few days a month, a week at the most," she agrees, nodding her head as she heats up the pan. "But even in Seattle, he spends a lot of time at his family home, so most of the time, the food I prepared went home with me..."

One of the guards clears his throat and Molly immediately seems to catch herself and stops talking. After that, no matter how hard I try, she remains polite but less forthcoming with the information on Sacha.

I eat my breakfast that Molly prepared which consists of a piece of toast with orange marmalade, a tomato and green pepper omelet, some fresh cut fruit with yogurt, and a glass of mango juice.

The day starts to get warm and the sun is shining up in the sky by noon. So, I go back into my room, rummage through my drawer of bikinis, and pull out a yellow ribbed set. It's the skimpiest that I own, so it doesn't cover much.

I put the bikini on, fix my flaxen hair up into a messy bun on top of my head, and swipe a chapstick with SPF 30 over my lips.

I spend a few minutes in front of the mirror admiring myself. What can I say? I look good. I still have that glowing tan that I acquired from the time I spent in Costa Del Sol this summer. The buttery yellow of the bikini looks good against my golden skin.

Before I leave the room, I slip on a white crochet cover-up over the bikini. I also grab a tote bag and put in the sunscreen, a pair of sunglasses, and a towel.

Molly is still busy in the kitchen when I stroll by on my way to the front door.

I notice her pause from her work to look at me from the corner of my eye. I try to tamp down the wicked smile on my lips when the two guards shoot me a wary look when I approach them.

"I'm going to the swimming pool. You boys can come up with me if you want." This toddler is going out to play. I give them a wink as I slide past them to open the door.

The elevator goes up to the rooftop swimming pool but I opt to take the stairs. It's only one level up anyway.

I give the two men who are following me a closer look before I open the door to the staircase at the end of the hallway.

They are handsome but not as good-looking as Sacha and god, they are huge! They're as tall as Sacha, but while Sacha has a lean, muscled body of a swimmer, these men have roped of muscles upon muscles, like a fighter or a bodybuilder.