Chapter 4

Sharon's duties at the hospital kept her busy and often tired her out so that she didn't have much opportunity to think about Friday. But Friday finally did come, or to be more accurate, Thursday afternoon.

When she emerged from the hospital at four-thirty, she saw the black chauffeured limousine waiting. The chauffeur was standing outside, and as she walked over, he said, "Mr Dennison took the liberty of having all your things transferred from your apartment to his home. He thought it would save you a great deal of bother."

"That's very thoughtful of him," Sharon nodded, looking at the man who was in his sixties and who had obviously been a chauffeur all his life.

"He also took the liberty of having the maid hang everything up in your bedroom," the chauffeur continued.

So, it was plain he didn't expect her to share his bedroom. For the moment it was going to be one of those wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am relationships, though she had no doubt she would be the one summoned to his room rather than he walking into hers.

She climbed into the limousine and she was driven back the way she knew so well, a way she had taken often when visiting her parents. She had called them the previous day, and she had learned they would be going down to Florida this same day, Thursday. So she had gone to their house the previous evening and had spent time with them, assuring them she would be able to manage on her own, and they ought not to worry. At nine, she had kissed them good-bye, wishing them a safe trip. Then she had driven back to her apartment in her old Chevy Nova.

Now, as the limousine pulled up in front of Lamont Dennison's home, she saw the Nova parked out front. He had thought of everything.

The house was a huge two-story dwelling with a turreted front to create a castle-like appearance. It was all red brick, and even the shingles on the roof were red. The large garage was big enough to hold four wide cars. At the moment, there was only one car other than the limousine in there. It was a Jaguar XK-E sports car.

Sharon climbed out of the limousine before it entered the garage and walked to the front door. A maid let her in. The chauffeur was the only male servant Lamont had working for him. He had a housekeeper who was in her early forties, a downstairs maid who doubled as a butler, and an upstairs maid. All were extremely good-looking, and Sharon didn't doubt for a minute that Lamont had laid every one of them. But it was also obvious from their respective demeanors that they all understood that a romp in bed with the big guy didn't mean their getting special privileges. Both maids and the housekeeper obviously knew their place. Both had obviously seen other women come and go in this house, and Sharon had no doubt they eventually expected to see her go, as well. Maybe they were right. She had no idea.

The housekeeper ushered her upstairs and showed her to her room. It was right next to the master bedroom and shared a connecting bathroom. How convenient! Then she remembered Lamont telling her years earlier that as much as his parents loved one another, both were restless sleepers, and sounds in their bedroom had kept them awake constantly, sounds one would make that disturbed the other. So the second bedroom had been a necessity. In fact, Lamont's father had built this house purposely to have that second bedroom for his wife. It was no less opulent than the master bedroom. The carpeting was the same, the furniture decidedly more feminine in the one bedroom than in the other, and both rooms were of equal size. The bathroom between the two rooms was placed there for the convenience of the occupants of both rooms, to show each room, and thus each occupant, was to be no less highly regarded. How many other women had occupied this room since Lamont had bought the house from his parents?

As if the housekeeper was reading her mind, the woman said, "Mr. Dennison apparently has a very high regard for you, Miss Seeley."

"Ooh?" Sharon asked, raising her eyebrows.

"You're the first person he's permitted to use this room since he became master of the house. All other women who came here were relegated to one of the guest rooms."

"I see," Sharon nodded. "Thank you, uh ..."

"Mrs. Banks," the housekeeper replied. "I'm at your service at any time. You have only to press the button on your nightstand."

"I see," Sharon nodded.

"The servants quarters are in the basement, on the other side of the house," Mrs. Banks told her, as if to say whatever went on between Lamont and herself would not be heard by the help.

"Yes, well thank you again, Mrs. Banks," Sharon smiled. "What time is supper?"

"Mr. Dennison likes to eat at seven, if that's convenient," the housekeeper replied.

"Oh, that's fine," Sharon nodded. "Is supper formal?"

"No," the housekeeper smiled. "What you have on now ..." referring to the pink knit suit Sharon was wearing," ... will be fine."

"I'll be prompt," Sharon assured the housekeeper as the latter left the room.