*Everly*
I follow him out of the room, up two flights of stairs, and down a hallway with several rooms. I might have thought this was the bordello portion except that the doors are open. The walls are papered in burgundy, with gold vines. More tasteful than I would have expected. Gas lamps flicker along the walls. Glancing through a doorway into a room we are passing, I stop.
“This is your office; it’s where you work.” I stroll inside. It is spartan. A desk. A chair in front of it, and another behind it. A table with decanters. The windows are bare, looking out onto the night.
“Why do you say that?” he asks.
Looking over my shoulder, I see him leaning against the door jamb, his arms crossed over his chest. “The globes.”
They are sprinkled about numerous shelves on three walls. “There
