SAFEHOUSE (A BWWM BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE) by Mia Caldwell Read Free Book Online Page A

know
each other better. And he was right…

 
    The more time I spent with him, the better I felt in general. Even
though I was always constantly on my guard, it felt like I could loosen up the
reins a bit when he was around. Sort of like I felt safe around him. Maybe that
was the point.

 
    Maybe we were spending a bit too much time together though… Marie was
starting to get frustrated with me, to the point where she would roll her eyes
at me if I asked any questions, or she would act as though I was getting some
sort of preferential treatment from Julien. Which was nuts, of course. He was
just trying to make me feel welcome in his home… at least that’s what I told
myself.

 
    But we were always together, even when I wasn’t working. Hour-long
breaks turned to hours at a time, then became not just the breaks during the
day but also spending time in the evening together. I began to wonder what
exactly was going on between the two of us.

 
    Often I would find him looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I
could never really determine what was going on inside his head, and he had a
pretty good poker face. My imagination was going wild.

 
    Maybe he was actually into me. He could be nice and not spend all this time with me. He
could be nice and not even have much interaction with me at all. But this was
something different, I could feel it.

 
    I wished I could call up Rosita and ask her for her opinion on this.
With no friends aside from maybe Julien or Alain, there was no one to talk to.
The thought depressed me, and I realized that outside of this home I really had
no life. And this was only a temporary place… What would happen when I struck
out on my own?

 
    After dealing with a cranky Marie all morning, I checked the clock in
the kitchen, sighing with relief when I realized that it was almost noon.
Julien would be around here at some point soon asking me to come along with
him. To where, I had no idea.

 
    Gervaise went ahead and cooked me a small lunch, without me even
having to ask. It was nice knowing that at least the chef liked me.

 
    I sat down at the table, trying hard not to completely devour my meal.
It was true what everyone said about French chefs; they were the absolute best.

 
    As the minutes ticked by, I had to wonder where Julien was. Usually he
was down here by this time, telling me about his morning, while grabbing a cup
of coffee.

 
    Gervaise noticed me looking at the time, and cleared his throat. “Ah,
mademoiselle. Monsieur Malveaux not coming today. Il est dix-huit Juin ,” he said, starting in on his French again.

 
    I thought about it, and realized that he gave me the date. “Dix-huit
Juin? Is that today’s date? Today?”

 
    He nodded.

 
    “What happens today?”

 
    He shrugged, shuffling off to another corner of the kitchen to busy
himself with something else. That was
weird.

 
    I finished up my food, wishing I knew where Julien was so I could ask
him. Was something going on today that I had missed?

 
    Without Julien pulling me from my work, I went to find Marie and see
what else needed to be done. I was still trying to figure out the schedule,
which seemed a bit all over the place to be honest. But when she pointed me to
the right place I generally knew what I was doing. For the most part.

 
    I figured I would start in one of the upstairs guestrooms that I had
last seen her in. I scoped out the entire long hallway, still not finding her.
A noise came from upstairs, startling me. What could that be?

 
    The thing about dealing with PTSD is that you never knew when
something will trigger you. I was very cautious as I climbed the next set of
stairs, keeping my ear out. It sounded like someone was yelling loudly, maybe
even singing. What the hell?

 
    Before I had a chance to further investigate, Marie came rushing out
of the room at the end of the hallway. Her face was completely flushed, and she
looked seriously pissed. I didn’t