Page 1 of Vain (Tempest #2)

Chapter One

AIDEN

I show my ID to the guard on gate duty and wait as he calls up to the house to verify my details.

I take in the sweeping property and wonder again how or why one person could ever need so much space. Still, it’s not my job to think about celebrities and what they do with their money. It’s my job to keep them safe. In this case, one celebrity—Matilda Carson.

Once a child star, making a name for herself on a host of kid shows and made-for-TV movies, she stepped onto the big screen at seventeen and never looked back.

There was a fuck-ton of information out there about the woman dubbed America’s sweetheart , but it was hard to know what was true and what was fabricated.

Some people spoke about her as if she were a saint, others spoke of how vain and vapid she is.

I figured I’d wait and get my information straight from the source, if I ever got to meet her.

In the weeks leading up to flying out here, I’d had to sign so many forms and NDAs.

By the end of it, I felt like a circus animal jumping through hoops.

If it weren’t for the shitshow of my life back home, I’d have probably backed out.

I already have one woman giving me a colossal-sized headache without needing to bring another into the mix.

The guard clears his throat, snagging my attention before my thoughts can turn to my ex and blacken my mood further.

“You checked out. Follow the road up to the fountain. Someone from Miss Carson’s security team will meet you there and brief you.”

“Thanks…”

“Phil Dobbs. I work the day shift here. Davey Nicholls does the nights.”

I reach out the window and take my ID before shoving it into my shirt pocket. “Nice to meet you, Phil. I have no doubt I’ll see you around.”

He tips his hat at me before opening the gates.

I pass through and watch them close behind me in my rearview mirror before heading up to the house. As it comes into view, I realize “house” doesn’t do it justice at all. The place is enormous, easily bumping it from house to mansion status.

“How the other half live,” I mutter as I circle the water fountain and park next to the other cars out front.

Climbing out, I walk around to the trunk and pop it open, grabbing my duffle bags from the back as a guy looking like a missing MIB agent walks around my car to meet me.

His sunglasses hide his eyes, so I can’t get a read on him just yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

What the black suit, white shirt, and black tie tell me is that the guy is a sucker for punishment.

It’s hotter than Satan’s balls out here today, which is why I’m dressed in cargo shorts and a white tee.

“Mr. Church?” He looks me up and down, and I don’t need to look at his eyes to know that he finds me lacking.

I’m not here to suck his dick or work for tips. I don’t give a fuck what he thinks.

“That’s me.” I place the bags on the ground and shut the truck before offering him my hand. He hesitates for a beat. I grin when I see him fighting back a sneer.

“Let me guess. You thought I was the pool boy?”

He splutters, scrambling to come up with something that won’t offend me. Dickhead.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be quite so casually dressed,” he finally settles on.

I roll my eyes, grabbing my bags. I’m sure that’s what it was. “You want to show me where I’ll be staying?”

“I’ll have one of the house staff show you to your quarters. I’d like to talk to you first and tell you what’s expected of you and what’s not.”

“I’m assuming I’m expected to keep Miss Carson safe. That is what she hired me for. And without wanting to sound like a dick, I work for her, not you. That means I don’t take orders from you.”

“My team?—

“Is exactly that, your team. We’re supposed to be working independently of each other.”

“Yes, I understand that is what Miss Carson wants, but she doesn’t understand how these things work.” He shuts up when I hold my hand up.

“I’d argue that she understands how this works better than most. And just saying, talking about your employer in that tone will only end up with your ass getting reamed out.”

“I can assure you, I have no tone,” he remarks sharply.

“You patronize so many people you don’t even realize you’re doing it then, huh?” I turn and head to the house, ignoring him when he calls after me.

“Mr. Church, there are things we need to discuss.”

“I’ve been driving for hours. The least you can do is let me take a fucking leak and grab some water.”

The door to the house opens before he can say anything else. An older man in a white linen suit answers with a polite smile. This suit, I can at least get behind. It looks far more suitable for this fucked-up weather than Mr. MIB’s behind me.

“Mr. Church, I presume. My name is Greyson. I’m the house steward. If you have any questions or issues, I’m the person to ask. Would you like me to show you to your rooms?”

“Rooms? As in more than one?”

He smiles. “Miss Carson wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

“Well, by all means, show me to my rooms.”

He instructs me to follow him, which I do, ignoring the huff behind me as I walk across a large foyer to a curved staircase.

I take in the black and white tiled floors and the huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It’s a little ostentatious, but it fits. A staircase on the opposite side of this one leads up to the same spot on the first floor.

“The guest rooms are predominantly on this floor, but given the nature of your role here, I’ve prepared the rear wing of the second floor for you.”

“Honestly, Greyson, I’m a simple guy. A single room is plenty for me.”

“Miss Carson recognizes that you’re away from your friends and family, and with no end date in sight, she wishes to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.”

I sigh but let it go. I’m not sure what the woman thinks I’m going to do with a whole wing, but if it makes her happy, who am I to complain?

“Where does the security team sleep?”

“They are staying in the staff quarters.”

“Is that on the ground floor?”

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t explain that well, did I? The staff quarters are in a separate building on the other side of the lake. Hence, the reason why she needs a live-in guard.”

“She didn’t want to just move one of them in?”

“No.”

I wait for more but frown when he doesn’t say anything else. I don’t push, sensing that he won’t say anything if he’s been asked not to.

“Okay. Is there anything I need to know, such as dos and don’ts, places that are off-limits, etc.? I haven’t been briefed yet.”

“Though Mr. Cox’s team is good at their job, they are hired to guard the property and keep intruders out.

You are the one being hired to protect Miss Carson herself.

They won’t be able to brief you on what you need to know.

However, I have taken the liberty of compiling a dossier and leaving it in your room for you to read at your own pace. ”

I frown at his back, but I figure rich people have their own ways of doing things.

In the end, it matters little. Though part of me is confused over why she doesn’t have a handful of near-protection guards already, part of me understands it.

Too many strangers underfoot. At some point, your house stops becoming your home and becomes your prison instead.

“As I said, everything should be covered in the dossier. The only things of importance you need to know right away are that the third floor is off-limits unless there is an emergency, and Miss Carson doesn’t like to be touched under any circumstances.”

I pause, staring at his back. “By anyone, or just strangers?”

He turns to stare at me, a sad look passing over his face before he evades the question. “Dinner will be served at six p.m. Breakfast is at nine a.m. Please let me or the chef know if you have any allergies.” He pushes open the door beside him as I start walking again.

And though he continues talking, I can only think about Matilda Carson and how lonely her life sounds.