Chapter 17

Lucky jolted awake as if something forcefully ripped her from unconsciousness. She barely moved an inch before feeling the awful cramp in her neck. And legs. And her right arm—why was she so achy?

Because she’d slept on a makeshift bed made from pushed-together kitchen chairs, the wall, and Maverick’s body.

Maverick, who was still asleep.

Shit.

“Maverick, wake up,” she said, heart beating too fast. “You have to wake up.” She shook him gently.

He woke with a start, inhaling sharply on high alert. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Panic danced in his eyes as she held his face, trying to stay calm. “When did you fall asleep? Was it after sunrise?”

“I didn’t sleep.” He shook his head, looking past her around the kitchen. “I didn’t…You fell asleep. I almost carried you upstairs because you passed out so hard—you just turned off like someone pushed your power button. But I didn’t want you to be upset that you weren’t down here, and I was fine. I felt fine. I don’t remember going to sleep.” He closed his eyes, grimacing. “But I think I did. No. No.”

“Did you make it past sunrise first? It might not count if it was during the day.”

He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“Maybe it wasn’t that long. It might not have been enough time for the house to see anything. It’s probably fine.”

Lucky felt terrible. This was her experiment. She was responsible for keeping them safe. He explicitly stated he never wanted to sleep in the house—she should have been there and awake to make sure this didn’t happen to him.

“Hey. It’s okay.” He began rubbing circles on her back.

“No, it’s not. Don’t comfort me.” She gently pushed his arm away. “I should be doing that for you.” She hesitated for a split second before leaping—his chair skidded backward from the force of it. “I’m sorry. This is my fault,” she said, hugging him tightly and rubbing his back.

He chuckled into the crook of her neck as he wrapped her in his arms. “It isn’t, but thank you.”

“Did you two sleep in here? I thought we were supposed to stay separated.” Stephen stood in the kitchen doorway fully dressed.

Lucky regretfully detached herself from Maverick and they both stood up. “We were. Hennessee had other plans.” He began fixing the chairs back into position.

“I take it something happened.” Stephen kicked up a plume of flowers and they oddly took their time floating back down. “Xander mostly mumbled at me on the way to his room.”

“You’ve seen Xander?”

“Yeah, like a second ago. He said he’s going to sleep for a couple of hours. Well, that’s what I think he said on account of the mumbling.”

So much for that. Lucky asked, “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” He grinned. “No complaints.”

After going upstairs, Lucky took a bath, got dressed, and then passed out in the middle of the bed when she mistakenly decided to rest her eyes for a few minutes. Falling asleep hadn’t been on the docket, and yet…her body refused to be denied. Again.

She didn’t know what to expect by the time she made it downstairs but found them all in the sitting room again—by far Hennessee’s most popular location. Surprisingly, Maverick hadn’t gone home. More powerful than a jump scare, the sight of him sent her reeling headlong into her feelings.

“Sleeping Beauty finally decided to wake up,” Xander quipped.

Lucky gasped. “You think I’m beautiful? Oh my god, Xander, stop it,” she said, instinctively falling back on old habits. “So sorry to inform you that you’re not my type. My condolences.”

Stephen laughed. “He jokes, but we were starting to get worried.”

Her gaze found Maverick’s, immediately fearing he’d been the root of that worry. He was sitting in the sunny corner armchair again. Early-afternoon light streamed through the gauzy curtains, giving his skin a luminous glow. Seeing his face, noticing all the subtle ways his expression shifted as he looked at her, was remarkable in a way few things were.

“I feel fine. I think I overdid it by staying up too late,” she said to him and sat on the couch.

A silent conversation passed between the three men like they were playing catch with a secret. Stephen to Maverick to Xander. Back and forth and back again. No one saying anything aloud. She began to suspect they already discussed the night before among themselves and decided to keep her in the dark.

As if she’d just let that happen. “So, Stephen, earlier you said you slept well? How was everything else?”

“Uneventful.”

“Wow, what a riveting account. Felt like I was there.”

His reluctant smile felt like a victory. “Nothing happened. Truly. I fell asleep around ten or so. Slept through the night. Woke up at four-thirty when my alarm went off.”

“No flowers? Any other surprise gifts?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Stephen said. “I didn’t go out of my way to search or anything because I figured it would be in plain sight.”

“And how are you feeling now?”

“I actually have a banging headache.” He laughed despite his discomfort. “A little queasy too.”

Lucky nodded solemnly. “Xander? I notice the floor is devoid of the flower tide pool.”

“Because I cleaned it up. You’re welcome, by the way. As caretaker it was your responsibility to see to it.”

“I said I wasn’t cleaning them up. Oh, you thought I was joking. How adorable of you.” She winked at him. “Anything else you’d like to share with the class? I was right, wasn’t I? The house showed you a specter. It called you outside.”

Xander exhaled in a huff, crossing his arms. He was the only one standing—well, leaning against the wall near the empty portrait mantel. “Yes. That was exactly what happened. You were right.” He regarded her with a steely gaze. “Is that what you need to hear?”

“What did you see?”

“That’s irrelevant. You’re the star of this show. Not me.”

“Then why did you participate?”

“Because I am willing to entertain your little side quests up to a certain point, which you are rapidly approaching. You work for me—not the other way around.” His tone was firm but had no bite. “Is that clear?”

“Unfortunately.” She shrugged, hoping her petulant pout would read as if she’d felt chastised. He wasn’t going to fire her.

Calling her the star of the show hadn’t been sarcasm on his part and they all knew it. Production needed her as much as she needed them now.

Xander turned his attention to Maverick. “And you’re positive you want to keep working with her?”

Lucky’s ears perked up. Keep? Maverick wasn’t leaving the production? She looked to him for confirmation, and he nodded, holding her gaze.

Stephen cleared his throat. “We’d like to discuss the pitch for a new show with you. It’d be a limited series. Three episodes max. Filmed concurrently with The Caretaker as a promotional prequel.”

Lucky asked, “How? What’s it about?”

“They would be related—you acting as the bridge between the two shows,” Maverick said. “I wanted to do something for Rebel. She’s really passionate about making her videos and she’s gotten so much good footage from being with you in the house. I want to help her make something special with it.”

“And we both fully support Rebel.” Stephen pointed to himself and Xander. “Everyone’s been working overtime to put the show together as a surprise early birthday present for her. Xander is personally funding it. Not investors. The rights will be split between NQP and Rebel’s trust. Fifty-fifty.”

“Wow, okay. How can I help?” she asked, stunned into seriousness.

Maverick said, “It’ll be a found footage–style series of her exploring a previously rejected BARD location—Penny Place Amusement Park. We couldn’t use it because there isn’t a single heart behind the haunting to build the narrative. It’s fairly unique, but also kid-friendly. The initial idea came to me after watching the video she made finding the library safe room.”

Stephen jumped in. “All Rebel did was narrate what she knew about the house’s history and her actions, and it was compelling to watch. She’s ten, brave but also scares easily. We can’t have her running around by herself, which is where you’d come in. You’re brilliant both on and off camera, have this intensely calming presence, and are also capable of these unexpected moments of vulnerability.”

“First Xander calls me beautiful, now you’re complimenting me like that? My head won’t be able to fit through doorways soon.”

“It’s true,” Maverick said. “You’re perfect for her show. We even decided to call it Shortcake.”

On one hand, Lucky really wasn’t an actress. Her planned characterization quickly dissolved into flustered failure. The Caretaker evolving into an “unintentional” investigative show wasn’t what Xander intended, but he saw the potential in letting her continue. She suspected he wanted answers, and he knew she was willing to get them for him. Being in the house as much as possible was crucial to her finding long-term funding post-Hennessee.

On the other hand, the opportunity to explore other supernatural locations on someone else’s dime was ridiculously tempting. She liked the team, even more so now. They were giving Rebel a tremendous gift. Asking Lucky to be a part of it humbled the hell out of her ambitions.

“The premise,” Xander said with a surprising amount of emphasis, “involves an unnamed young girl and her nanny, whose faces are never shown.” His eyebrow quirked—her secret job history was out in the open now. “Each episode will include them providing narration, seemingly speaking to someone about her adventures as they happen. They’ll seem innocuous at first, but something will feel slightly off. The final episode will reveal she’s had multiple supernatural encounters and the nanny is there for her protection. Maverick wrote a loose script for both of you to follow.”

If she had a third hand, she’d add that Maverick used his talent for skillfully blending reality and fiction to create on-screen characters for her and Rebel. That was what he’d been working on all week—he wrote the story and script because he claimed she’d inspired him to do it.

“The hope is that dedicated viewers will investigate the clues and lore presented in Shortcake, only to realize that the nanny is also the final caretaker living in Hennessee House,” Stephen said.

“Final? Wait, am I the final girl?” Resisting a good joke simply wasn’t in her DNA.

Xander regarded her coolly. “We’re not casting anyone else. Production officially wraps up when you decide to leave.”

“Good to know. I’ll make sure my exit is as dramatic as possible.”

His dignified snort almost made her laugh. “Of that, I have no doubt. If our offer is acceptable, you’ll be granted temporary leave from your Hennessee House obligations for an entire weekend.”

Stephen said, “We’ll give you some time to think it over.”

“I don’t need it,” Lucky said, looking at Maverick. She failed him last night, but she’d make it up to him with Shortcake. “When do we leave?”

“Soon. Georgia is finalizing the last few details as we speak,” Maverick said, standing up. “I should get going. Rebel already called twice.” He nodded toward the door, giving her a look.

“I’ll walk you out,” she said smoothly.

“I should get going too,” Stephen said. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this…off. It really does feel like there’s something digging around in my head.”

“I’ll walk you both out. Xander?”

“We need to go over your Shortcake contract. It’s ready.”

“Oh. I’ll be right back, then.”

Outside a heatwave had landed with the full force of a flaming meteorite. Lucky squinted through her sunglasses, which were barely enough to block out the blistering light. She began sweating almost instantly, growing more uncomfortable with each step toward Maverick’s car.

“Bye, Stephen,” she called after him. “Thank you!”

He waved before hopping in his car.

“Hennessee’s air-conditioning is unmatched. I didn’t even realize it was this hot out here.”

“Probably the best money can buy.” Maverick laughed. He shielded his eyes with his hand. “It doesn’t usually get this hot. Once-in-a-lifetime freak event and all that.”

“That’s what they say. Every time it happens like we forgot about the first time.”

“Right.” He nodded. “So, I probably won’t see you again until we leave.”

“I figured,” she said with a sigh. “How’s your head?”

“Not as bad as Stephen, but also not great. It could honestly just be one of my normal headaches. I can’t tell.”

“I’m really sorry I didn’t stay awake. I don’t know what happened.”

“You said, ‘I think I’m tired,’ and then closed your eyes. That was it. I’ve never seen anyone fall asleep that fast. Not even Rebel when she was younger.”

“Interesting.”

“That’s not the word I would use,” he said. “I think the house made you fall asleep.”

“I think so too,” she admitted. Because if the house wanted him to sleep and he clearly stated she was the only thing keeping him awake…but she didn’t dare hypothesize out loud. The experiment was a success, but Maverick had obviously reached his limits with Hennessee. “I guess that means you won’t be coming back to visit.”

“No,” he said. “I will. Just…not in the evening or at night. And I’ll probably stick to outside, here or the backyard, to be safe. If I did fall asleep, I don’t want to risk the house showing me anything.”

“I understand. You’ll still call me?”

“Same time?”

“Both of them, please. Don’t forget about sunrise,” she said softly. “If that’s okay?”

“Whenever you want.” He grinned and said, “I’d hug you but I think Xander might be watching.”

Challenge accepted, she hugged him anyway. “If he says anything about it, I’ll offer him one too.”

“Be careful,” he whispered, lips pressed near her ear. “Be safe.”

Lucky remained in the driveway until Maverick’s car turned the corner. After heading back in, she found Xander in the kitchen making a sandwich. He asked, “Do you want one?”

“Sure.” She leaned against the doorframe. “How kind. How generous. Can I ask you a question?”

“No.”

She ignored him. “Who came up with the idea for The Caretaker?”

“Creative team. We have brainstorming meetings once a week. This was one idea of many.”

“Why this house?”

He looked at her as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “Using property I own saves on production costs.”

“So, you expect me to believe that your creative team came up with an idea based around a ‘haunted’ house, completely unprompted, and you just happened to have one in your portfolio?”

He stared at her. “You can believe whatever you want as long as you do your job.”

“Which is?” She eyed him, inching forward expectantly. “Admit it: you want me to investigate.”

“We hired you to spend thirty days in the house and give a detailed account of your experiences. If you feel investigating should be a part of your time here, then yes. I do. Simple as that,” he said. “However, going forward I expect you to do your job alone as intended. No more using my team as guinea pigs.”

“And what if I need you? You probably have the strongest connection out of all of us.”

His cool stare was as impassive as ever. “Make it worth my while again and I’ll consider it.”

Lucky smiled. “You’re really not going to tell me what happened in the orchard, are you?”

“No. Once again, I want to hear about your experiences.”

“I hope you know this means I’m gonna have to research you now. I need answers and the internet always provides.”

He almost chuckled—he literally stopped himself, covering his mouth. “Good luck finding anything.”

“Don’t need it.” She grinned. “It’s in the name.”

Xander met her at the doorway. He loomed over her like a powerful storm cloud, an intimidation tactic that most definitely worked on other people, but he’d never be able to fool her again. “Don’t forget to make your self-tape about last night.” He handed her a plate with a perfectly acceptable turkey sandwich cut diagonally, as it should be. “And it better be good. I’ll be watching.”