The Ghosts of Ravencrest (The Ravencrest Saga Book 1) by Tamara Thorne, Alistair Cross Read Free Book Online Page B

blinked. “What do you mean, Mrs. Heller?”
    Heller crossed her arms over her pointy breasts. She looked incredulous. “There are breadcrumbs on the counter and fingerprints on the stove.”
    Phoebe lowered her eyes to her hands, which she now wrung together.
    “Mr. Phister,” Heller said, turning to Grant. “I smell peaberry.”
    Peaberry? Belinda almost giggled.
    “Are you serving peaberry to the staff?” She nodded toward Belinda’s coffee cup. “I can smell it. Don’t deny it.”
    Oh. Coffee. Belinda sipped.
    “I would never deny it, Mrs. Heller.” Grant arched an eyebrow and smirked. “I feel we are all equal here. Don’t you?”
    Heller’s face whitened with rage, her lips thinning to a red slit, her powerful jaw flexing. She looked like a cobra ready to strike. As she stepped forward, the twin rubies on the key she wore around her neck glinted in the light. “Equality, Mr. Phister,” she said in measured tone, “must be earned.”
    “In my world, it is a right. One we’ve fought long and hard for, I might add.”
    She appraised him - from perfect haircut to black Italian loafers. “How easily such words slip from the lips of a man in a Valentino suit, Mr. Phister.”
    “I’m wearing what is appropriate. As are you, Mrs. Heller.”
    Belinda looked back and forth between the butler and the administrator.
    “Yes. And have we not earned our privileges, Mr. Phister? Or are you suggesting everyone should simply be given Armani and Valentino?”
    “We are appropriately dressed to represent our employer. These are uniforms, Mrs. Heller, just as Phoebe’s is.” He glanced at his wristwatch and then looked to Belinda. “I believe it’s time you join Mr. Manning and the children upstairs for breakfast.”
    “I- Upstairs?” asked Belinda.
    Mrs. Heller glared at her.
    Grant nodded. “Yes, Mr. Stavros, our chef, will be back momentarily to make the hollandaise and then I will send the food up via the dumbwaiter and will come up to serve you personally today. Phoebe, would you prepare the breakfast table?”
    Relief washed over Phoebe’s face. “Yes, Mr. Phister.”
    “Head upstairs now. They’ll be seating themselves in just a few minutes. And do let Dominique know she needs to come and clean up the kitchen.” He gave Mrs. Heller another arched brow. “It’s her turn today.”
    “Yes, Mr. Phister.” Phoebe moved, nodding at Mrs. Heller with her eyes averted, and favoring Grant with a grateful smile.
    Cordelia Heller turned her gaze on Belinda and she felt herself shrink under it. “You have a doctor’s appointment this morning for your employment insurance physical. Be there on time or I will hear about it.” She turned and left, her heels clocking across the marble.
    “That woman could give Cruella de Vil nightmares,” Grant said.
    Belinda smiled but held her tongue. “I’d better get going. I’ve got butterflies.”
    “Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”
    “The Mannings are good folks,” Riley said as he opened the back kitchen door that led outside. “I’m off to take care of Bacchus’ member. See you later.”
    Belinda waited until the door shut. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you and Riley. I can be so dense.”
    “Embarrass?”
    “I didn’t realize you were a couple.”
    He chuckled. “You gave us a jolly good laugh is all. You’ll catch on quickly. Now, off you go. When you get back from your doctor’s appointment, come tell me what you think of Dr. Dickey.”
    “Dr. Dickey?”
    “He’s the physician they use for insurance purposes.”
    “Is there anything wrong with him?”
    “Not that I know of, except for him telling me to call him Dr. Dickey.” Grant smiled. “I think that’s peculiar, don’t you?”
    Belinda laughed. “Definitely.”

In Cordelia’s Chambers

    In her black bedchamber, Cordelia Heller picked up her lipstick-red cell phone and pressed the number for Richard Akin, MD. While she waited for his girl to pick up, she ran her fingers over