Chapter 6 - Blueprints and Bound Pages
I moved across the thick Turkish rug, the leather-bound maintenance ledger held securely against my right hip while my left arm remained tucked gingerly against my waist to ease the persistent ache in my shoulder. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked with an unyielding rhythm, measuring out the seconds as I approached the massive mahogany partner's desk. Luca finally lifted his head, his dark eyes sweeping over me with an unreadable expression before locking onto the book in my hands. He didn't invite me to sit, nor did he offer any polite softening of his professional demeanor. Instead, he gestured with a single finger toward the empty corner of the desk, indicating where he wanted the ledger placed. I set it down carefully, my fingers brushing against the polished wood before I withdrew my hand and stepped back half a pace. He opened the cover with a crisp snap, his gaze scanning the columns of handwritten entries detailing routine repairs, supply orders, and labor allocations across the vast estate. "You've been helping in the administrative office twice a week for the past three months," Luca said, his voice low and devoid of inflection as he turned a heavy page. "Yet your primary contract lists you strictly as domestic floor staff. Explain how a maid ends up logging inventory in a restricted carriage house archive." My pulse fluttered against my ribs, but I kept my voice steady, remembering the warnings from the staff downstairs about his intolerance for evasiveness. "The regular archivist went on extended medical leave last autumn, Mr. Moretti," I replied, keeping my gaze fixed on the brass lamp at the edge of the desk. "When the backlog of repair orders began piling up, Thomas asked if I could assist with cataloging the historical manifests during my off-hours." Luca traced a finger down the column of figures, his brow furrowing slightly as he noted the dates. "Unassigned heavy furniture relocation isn't listed under historical cataloging, Claire. The carriage house inventory requires two people minimum, yet the logs for Tuesday afternoon show only your signature." I swallowed hard, feeling the net tighten around the partial truths I had relied on to protect my job. "The other staff were occupied with preparations for the evening gala prep," I admitted quietly. "I didn't want to delay the transfer schedule, so I attempted to reposition the display crates by myself." He stopped turning pages, looking up sharply. He pushed his chair back a fraction of an inch, the legs scraping softly against the floorboards. "If you are injured while performing tasks outside your job description, the liability falls squarely on the estate administration," he said, though there was a strange, sudden shift in his tone that I couldn't quite decipher. "Effective immediately, your duties involving physical labor in outbuildings are suspended. You will report to the main office for administrative transcription only." Before I could process the abrupt shift in my employment terms, a sharp rap sounded at the study door. Without waiting for a response, the brass handle turned, and Vanessa stepped into the room, her vibrant red silk slip gown rustling softly as she moved toward the desk with an effortless, proprietary grace.
