Terms of Service by Emma Nichols Read Free Book Online Page B

period, let alone for an extended length of time.  She closed her eyes as she imagined having to explain what pasties were or why Krystal’s underwear had no crotch.  “Never mind,” she sighed.  “I’ll be back in time.”
    Without giving him further chance to respond, she blew kisses at the girls, who were waving at her from the window, and drove north to the lake.
    Having no idea what to expect, but armed with some knowledge of the area, Hannah drove by mansion after mansion following the detailed directions Gavin had emailed her.  She reached the cobbled drive and swallowed hard as she pulled in.  She didn’t want to gape, but it was hard not to.  Judging by the exterior dimensions, the house had to be at least eight thousand square feet, covered in stucco and stone.  It was majestic, but all she longed for was a home.
    Carrying only her purse, she hoped to get a lay of the land before moving even her first box.  Almost instantly an older woman wiping her hands on an apron that was no doubt a permanent fixture about her waist answered her knock.  Hannah knew instinctively this was most definitely not Mrs. Meyers, yet still she squirmed under the scrutinizing gaze this woman gave her.
    “Follow me,” the woman demanded curtly.
    Doing as she said without question, Hannah traipsed along after her, noting the travertine floors, which appeared to cover the entire first floor, the dark wood moldings, and the even darker shades adorning the walls giving the place a cave-like quality.  Somehow it wasn’t right.  She made mental notes to institute a few changes as soon as possible.
    “Ah, I see you found the place,” Gavin said seriously.  He stood from behind his desk in the study.
    It was definitely a man’s room, but at least there was a hint of warmth here, and not just from the fire burning in the floor to ceiling stacked stone fireplace.  The walls were lined with shelves filled with books Hannah longed to explore.  There were two leather chairs angled to face the fireplace and anchoring a colorful Art Deco rug covering the center of the room.  Gavin’s desk, large and mahogany, was clearly more functional than decorative with the papers scattered across it and files lining one side.  Behind it, two sets of French doors covered with gauzy curtains, allowed filtered sunlight to spill into the room, which was painted a soft shade of sage.
    Inhaling deeply, Hannah sighed.  Leather and wood.  This room was Gavin.  Tilting her head, she asked, “So, do you have a moment to show me around or should I just find everything on my own?”  After dealing with Brett and worrying about the girls the entire drive north, she was feeling a bit peevish.
    Gavin raised his eyebrows at her.  “I can show you around,” he said.  Without another word, he gestured toward the door she had just entered and followed her into the hall.
    Though the hall clearly stretched to the left, he turned the other direction.  “What’s down there?” she asked pointedly.
    He stopped.  “You won’t need to go down there.  Those are my rooms.”  His face was stony as he led her to the heart of the home.
    She scrunched up her face.  Normally she loved kitchens.  This one should have been her dream come true with its granite counters and top of the line stainless steel appliances, real wood cabinetry.  Instead, it felt as oppressive as every other part of the house, dark and dank, smelling of lack of use.  Well, at least that much she could work on.  She continued to make mental lists.
    There was a keeping room off the kitchen, with a stone fireplace and a rough-hewn wooden mantle.  She smiled.  This place had potential; she could certainly breathe life back into it.  She glanced at the clock over the mantle and scowled.  The long drive had cut into her move time.
    “What if I look around later?  Right now, if you could just show me to our rooms…that’s about all I have time for before I have to go pick up