Quickly, I hopped up from the couch hoping my employer would never suspect what I'd been doing for the past few hours. I heard him pausing to hang his coat in the closet, which gave me a few seconds to fix my disheveled honey blonde hair, and wrinkled school uniform. I swept my long delicate fingers under my eyes removing any mascara that had flaked off, and pinched my cheeks instantly bringing more color and life to my face. I grabbed my Psychology book from my bag and sat back down, acting as if I'd been doing course work all night.
Only a few seconds later did he enter the room. "He" being Mr. Lucas Gilbert, renowned columnist for the London Times, father of two, and as of last May a widower. It had been almost a year since I'd seen him. The children's day time nanny had been there when I'd first arrived. His dark hair had gone slightly gray around the sides, but instead of making him look old he just looked distinguished. He had certainly not let his physique go. His shoulders seemed broader and sleeves tighter than I'd remember.
"Hello, Mr. Gilbert. How was your evening?" I asked.
"Tessa I must have told you 100 times you may call me Lucas," he replied.
As he walked farther into the room I noticed his normally piercing blue eyes seemed glassy, his gentile-like saunter was more a stumble, and he smelled faintly of liquor. An interview over dinner must have become an interview over drinks, I thought to myself.
"Right, of course, sorry Lucas. It's just that I haven't been over to watch the kids since..." I trailed off embarrassed and nervous about almost mentioning the death of his wife.
"Since Cassandra passed away?" he questioned.
"Well, um, yes. So sorry again for your loss," I mumbled.
"No need to be sorry, my dear. It's been over a year now, and truth be told I never really cared for her anyways. If she hadn't died we would probably be divorced. Our marriage had been horrid since day one. In fact she was on the way to meet with her lawyer about drawing up the divorce papers when the accident happened," he stated as plainly as if he were telling me what he'd had for dinner.
I was of course in shock. He'd clearly had even more to drink than I'd thought when he first came in the room. I was even more startled when he said, "Let's go to the kitchen and I'll pour us some drinks. Do you like scotch?"
"Mr. Gilbert, I mean Lucas, that is very kind of you to offer, but I need to be getting home soon," but as I said this he walked towards the kitchen anyways.
I followed him to the other room. "Don't worry Tessa I called your mother at midnight and told her you'd have to spend the night on a cot in one of the kid's rooms," he told me as he opened the cabinet above the stove and took down an old bottle of scotch.
He called her at midnight? Good lord what time must it be now? I wondered. I looked down at my mobile and saw that it was already 2:34 AM. No wonder I fell asleep.
"Well if my mother said it was alright then I suppose it does make sense for me to just stay," I told him as he handed me a glass.
We both sat down opposite each other at the breakfast table our glasses of scotch in front of us and the bottle in the middle. The lights were on, but dimmed and it was hard to completely make out all the details of his face. At first we drank in silence. Lucas quickly finished two glasses before I'd drank half of mine, and he moved on to his third. The amber liquid was a bit hard for me to swallow, but the more I drank the easier it went down. When the bottle was about half gone Lucas struggled to get up, put his hands on my shoulders, and slurred that we should probably get some sleep.
As we reached the top of the stairs he turned to me and whispered, "I'm afraid we will wake up the kids if we try and put the cot in one of their rooms. You can sleep in my bed, and I'll just sleep on the floor."
I felt rude accepting, but I knew if I objected he'd just insist and I'd end up sleeping in the bed anyways. He opened the door to the room and I was amazed by what I saw. What had once been a bright, open, and mostly pastel themed room, fit for a married couple was now painted dark grey. The white four-poster, had been replaced by a king sized bed, which was low to the ground and adorned with navy silk sheets.