The Red Wing Mansion

Chapter Six

I wake up and Claudius isn't there, but I find it no surprise. Perhaps it's with that moment that I realise I'm already used to Claudius appearing rarely and when he so chooses. So, I get straight into maintenance of the Red Wing. I know I won't have to clean the whole time, but I want to do something new each day. After eating some breakfast alone in the stables where the fridge is set, I walk back into the looming mansion where I find a whole cupboard of old boots that need a polish. Rob left me with all the equipment by the cupboard.

I take out all the dusty old boots, I line up the twelve pairs and admire their leatherwork. They are in worn condition but they have been fixed a few times.

There were work boots, cowboy boots, fancy ballroom shoes. Claudius wore a working pair, just for daily work, and there is an identical pair in here, less worn.

I take that set, able to feel it properly.

He would wear these in 6 months.

He had asked me to be his wife but I had not really agreed just yet. I mean... he is a ghost. It's not like I could even consider it a real deal or anything like that.

I was just here, for the money, the beautiful accommodation, the rare opportunity and the extra extended break before study.

I was not here considering a marriage proposal.

At that – to a handsome control freak.

"Heh, control freak, so true," I murmur it aloud, as I wipe over his spare pair of boots with a cloth to get off the dust first before the polish. I wonder if he had ever been called that in his life? Control freak. But I'm sure no one spoke like that back in his day.

I reach for the polish, and I start to apply it to the front section, dabbing it on and watching it gloss up nice and bright. I feel a cold woosh behind me in the corridor I'm in, while sitting on a small bench.

I know Claudius is there, but I keep dabbing the polish on the boot, "I had a dream last night, Fontaine," I use his name correctly, as I murmur my vivid fantasy, "That you told me you were an incubus... a 'sex demon'. Heh," I chuckle a bit, "Good thing it was a ridiculous dream because if you were a demon there is no way I would stay here. A ghost is one thing. A demon is another. Thank god you're the latter," I smile to myself and look over my shoulder.

To open air. Oh. Perhaps it's a draft from the front door I left open.

I stare at the sparkling antiques in the opposite cabinet and I turn around with a sigh – which turns to a high-pitched scream and then to an abrupt squeak.

Claudius Fontaine's fucking draws are in front of my nose.

Okay, not that close.

He's standing in front of my knees, arms crossed over his chest as he looks down at me.

"Did you just call me a control freak?" Claudius drawls, but he isn't amused right now. He doesn't care that he just scared the living daylights out of me either.

"How do you know I was talking about you?" I rush off in a mumble, putting the shoe and polish aside. I'm nervous and my hands shake – so I drop it just before I balance the polish, and it lands on the tiles, leaving a black mark, "Fuck."

"I came to tell you this is my property and you'll tend to it how I see fit, Alix. I wanted you in the laundry this morning."

Fuck him. I'm just staring at the mark on the floor, not at him, while biting my cheek.

Great, he's gone from sexy ghost to annoying manager.

"I know what I'm doing –"

"So why are you staring at the mess you just made, why aren't you immediately leaning over to clean it?"