Kissable

4.

I tuck the children into bed a few hours later. There is still no sign of Mrs. Kensington; the children grow restless without their mother to say goodnight to, but I do my best to fill her place with bedtime stories, promises of fun tomorrow after their school day and a proper tuck in. It satisfies the kids some, but as I turn the lights off and shut their doors, I know each of them are still upset.

Despite the obvious realization that Mr. and Mrs. Kensington work a great deal, they do have good relationships with their children. While rich, Mr. Kensington doesn't come off as mean to me or negligent. As for Mrs. Kensington, however, I judge based on her incapability of even showing up to dinner.

With a quiet home, Mr. Kensington in his room either working or sleeping, I wander the first floor to become better acquainted with the layout of the mansion-sized house. To keep the silence from causing paranoia, I play soft music from my phone and enjoy the time to myself.

It's spectacular, really. I never imagined I'd be in a house like this; the closest I've ever gotten to something so elegant and expensive was in the rich neighborhood strip mall my mother and I went to once when I was younger. We didn't have the money to actually shop, so we just went inside and looked around each, telling one another what we would get if we could afford it.

Most of it was childish things that a kid would want, but my mother would point out gorgeous lamps, or silky gowns, even jeweled necklaces and pieces of art that I never understood the point of. Looking at the decorations littering the house now, I imagine she would have loved all of it.

"Kenzie."

I let out a startled scream that cuts off abruptly as I twist to look at the direction the voice comes from. The sudden adrenaline makes my heart pound in my chest and my hands shake, but as I slowly calm, I'm able to fully understand who I'm looking at.

Mrs. Kensington smiles a little wickedly, lips coated in a dark burgundy lipstick that matches her long straight hair. From here, her hair brushes past her shoulders, but I don't know how much longer it is without seeing it from the back. Her light brown eyes glisten in amusement and the bridge of her nose is covered in dark freckles.

Her gown sweeps the floor, just barely; a dark blue silky dress that hugs against her skin. I swallow hard at the sight of her and finally find my voice.

"Mrs. Kensington. You're home."

The clip of her heels hit the wooden floor as she steps from the carpeted foyer to the hardwood hallway.

"Yes, well." She makes a gesture with her hand and her wedding ring glistens in the hallway light. "Are you becoming acquainted with the house?"

I move my eyes away from her to turn the music on my phone off. I place it back into my pocket and try to look at the wall behind her rather than at her. She's incredibly distracting.

"Trying to. It's bigger than I thought it would be. Your children are lovely."

"Please, don't be so proper." She steps closer, just under one of the lights and her rich skin is smooth. I lick my lips and try not to be so obvious.

"Right. Sorry. So you didn't tell Mr. Kensington that you were looking for a nanny?"

"Heavens no. He might say he doesn't mind what I do, but he would have fought me all the way. Don't believe a thing he says. He's a liar."

Her eyes go cold there, just a flash before it's gone. I find myself surprised that she speaks so negatively about him when Mr. Kensington spoke so highly of her.

I nod along anyway. "I'll keep that in mind. What kept you out so late?"

The amusement is back and she places a gentle hand on my shoulder to lead my down the hallway towards the family room. At least I think. I follow her and try not to think too hard about her hand on my shoulder, her fingers curling just slightly so I know that it's not a casual touch.

Inside the room, Mrs. Kensington opens the blinds of the windows so the moonlight streams in and lights up the room in a silvery glow. We each take a seat on the couch and I wait for her to either answer me, or say something else.

"What did my husband tell you I was doing?"

I think back to the beginning of the day. "Um. Something with your friends, I think. It's been a really long day."

She laughs at that. Her laugh is loud, genuine, bouncing off the walls and landing in my lap. "Yes. I guess he would say that. I was at work."

"Why would he-"

"Say that I was with friends?" Mrs. Kensington shakes her head. Her hair falls forward some; the length of it rests in her lap. "I'm afraid he doesn't fully approve of what I do for work."

"Why?"

She only smiles.

"Kenzie, I feel that you and I are going to be wonderful friends."

I try to hide my confusion at the change of topic and her statement. It doesn't matter anyway because Mrs. Kensington gets up and moves towards the windows overlooking the garden and pool. I follow her with my gaze, eyes lingering on her back where the dress clings to her spine and her hips. A few moments of silence pass between us as I study her figure.

"I am exhausted." Mrs. Kensington turns around and I look away quickly, cheeks flaming as though I've been caught looking. "I'll walk with you back to the foyer so you don't get lost."

We walk together, her heels clipping on the floor being the only sound surrounding us. At the foyer, I step onto the carpet and turn to face her for just a moment, close enough that I can feel just the barest touch of her dress against my pants.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Kensington."

"Please. It's Ambrosia." Her smile is radiant. "Sweet dreams, Kenzie."