Episode5
774 Words
The first time Leah shared a room with Dominic Westbrook, she didn’t mean to.
She was carrying a tray of fresh towels when she turned the corner into the library and stopped short.
He was there.
Back to her. One hand was braced on the edge of the desk, the other holding a whiskey tumbler.
She froze, the towel tray tilted slightly against her hip.
He didn’t turn.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
His voice was calm. Controlled. But firm.
Leah’s heart flipped.
“I—I was just refilling the guest towels. I didn’t realize…”
A pause.
“You’re the new housekeeper?”
“Yes, sir. Leah Brooks.”
A long moment.
Still facing away, he said, “Leave the towels on the armchair.”
She obeyed in silence. Her hands trembled slightly as she lowered the tray.
He finally turned.
Their eyes met.
Briefly.
Gray. Sharp. Distant.
She looked away at first.
“You’re not from around here,” he said flatly.
“No, sir. I moved from Raleigh.”
“Why leave?”
She hesitated. “New start.”
Dominic studied her for a beat. “You always answer in two words or fewer?”
“Only when I’m nervous.”
Another pause. Then—unexpectedly—his mouth twitched. Barely a smirk. But it was there.
“You shouldn’t be,” he said.
Leah blinked.
But before she could reply, footsteps echoed behind her.
Rebecca.
“I see you’ve met, Mr. Westbrook,” she said quickly, her tone clipped.
Dominic took a final sip from his glass and placed it on the desk.
“Briefly,” he replied. “She seems… quiet.”
“She’s efficient,” Rebecca cut in, stepping between them slightly. And punctual. I’ll remind her to knock before entering occupied spaces.”
“No need,” Dominic said. The staff can come and go. This house is too quiet anyway.”
Then he turned and left the room.
Rebecca turned to Leah the second he was gone.
“You’re not assigned to the library.”
“I was just—”
“You don’t explain. You follow the schedule.”
Leah held her ground. “Yes, ma’am.”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
Later that evening, Leah stepped into the kitchen and nearly ran into Henry.
“Are you alright?” he asked. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I did,” she murmured. “He’s not what I expected.”
“Mr. Westbrook?”
“Yeah.”
Henry chuckled. “They say the quiet ones have the loudest pasts.”
Leah forced a smile. “He said the house is too quiet.”
“That’s rich,” Henry said. “He built it to be.”
The next morning, Leah was summoned to Rebecca’s office — a small but polished room behind the west stairwell.
Rebecca didn’t look up from her laptop as she spoke.
“Mr. Westbrook is hosting an investor dinner next weekend.”
Leah stood stiffly. “Yes?”
“You’ll be part of the hosting staff.”
Leah blinked. “I thought I wasn’t cleared for events.”
“You weren’t. But Mr. Westbrook asked you personally.”
Her stomach dropped. “Requested?”
“He said you were… efficient. Quiet. Not intrusive.”
Rebecca’s tone made the words sound like an accusation.
“I’ll do whatever’s required,” Leah said carefully.
Rebecca finally looked up. “That’s the right answer. You’ll assist with setup, guest check-in, and table service.”
Leah nodded.
As she turned to leave, Rebecca added, “You should be aware... Mr. Westbrook doesn’t often request staff. Don’t mistake his notice for favor.”
“I didn’t,” Leah replied, keeping her voice even.
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
That night, Leah stared at her ceiling, wide-eyed.
He noticed her.
Not in the way she once dreamed of — not as a woman, or a mother, or anything real.
But it was still something.
And it terrified her.
The next day, Leah passed by Jess — Dominic’s sister — in the hallway. She was on the phone, speaking low but sharp.
“I don’t care if she seems competent. I don’t like unknown variables around Dominic. Check again.”
Leah slowed her pace, pretending to organize the hallway console table.
Jess’s voice dropped another octave. “Yes, dig into her employment history. If she’s clean, fine. If not, I want her gone before the event.”
Leah’s stomach clenched.
They were investigating her.
And she still hadn’t told the truth.
- Writer
