When they got back to the house, the two goons did not even get out of the car. They just pulled up to the house with a crunch of gravel and let Gideon and Cole climb out. Cole grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, waiting as Gideon popped open the manilla folder and handed one of the marriage certificates to them as proof. Then, the car peeled out of the driveway.

The front door slammed shut after they stepped into the foyer, rattling a mirror on the wall. It hung next to a door to their left that had been closed earlier in the day but was now open to reveal a dining room. As Cole peered into it, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. He looked no different than normal, even though inside, he felt pale and shaky. Just another Tuesday, he supposed. His eyes flicked between the paintings, antique furniture, and crystal chandelier overhead while he tried to think of something to say.

Gideon cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, I have plans for the rest of the day, so figuring things out needs to wait until tomorrow. Are you okay with staying the night here again so we can talk in the morning?”

“Plans?” Cole asked.

“Yes. There are some things I need to take care of for my brother that cannot wait.”

Ah, the things that needed to be taken care of were better left unsaid then. Cole squinted at the mid-afternoon sun shining through the windows on either side of the door, not sure how to respond. It was not as if there was anywhere else that he needed to go. He was completely jobless now, after all.

Gideon dug his phone out of his pocket and checked his notifications.

“And I need to go sort some things out at work since I unexpectedly took today off and need to do the same tomorrow because, “he paused and glanced up, gesturing between their chests with his phone, “this situation requires my undivided attention.”

This situation. Cole could have laughed. But instead, he asked, “You have a day job?”

Gideon stretched his arm out to check his watch. “Yes, I work for my family’s accounting firm. And I’m heading in now. It will just be a late day.”

Right. Cole made eye contact with his reflection as though looking into a hidden reality TV camera. Gideon worked for his family’s accounting firm, which was a front for extortion, drug running, human trafficking, and other nefarious things that made money that needed to be laundered. Then, at night, he moonlit as one of the brass-knuckled Barta boogeymen who were a legend on the streets of this city while taking part in those nefarious things. Cole watched Gideon huff in frustration at his phone and wondered how many of the rumors were true.

His knuckles were still a little swollen from punching Logan.

“There isn’t much in the kitchen. You should order some food.” Gideon fished in his pocket again, this time for his wallet. He slid a credit card out and slapped it in Cole’s palm, where it sat heavier than a normal credit card, probably some type of platinum line with a trillion-dollar limit.

But they were already blasting past the initial part of the conversation when Gideon said he wanted Cole to stay the night.

“What if I have a cat that I need to go feed?”

Gideon looked up from shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “Do you?”

Not for the first time since meeting Gideon, Cole felt a thrill at being the center of his attention. There was something so highly intelligent in his eyes, like at any given time, he knew better what was going on inside Cole’s head than he knew himself and was just waiting for Cole to get with the program. But not in a condescending way. He was open and patient. Even though his brows were raised in doubt, he did not scoff or call Cole’s bluff. He just waited to see whether Cole would stick to his guns or admit defeat.

Cole frowned at his reflection, then squared his shoulders. “No, I don’t.”

“Do you just want to go home?”

“I’ll be fine here.” The edge of the credit card dug into Cole’s palm. “You’re right. It’ll be more convenient.”

Gideon looked at him some more, eyes flicking back and forth, like now he was waiting for Cole to crack and ask to be taken home. When that did not happen, he nodded and turned toward the door. “There’s a bunch of menus in the drawer to the left of the fridge. Feel free to poke around the place if you get bored. There’s a TV in the master bedroom on the first floor, through that room on your right.”

Cole looked at the closed door opposite the dining room and at the foot of the stairs. “Okay.”

Gideon nodded again. “See you in the morning, Cole.”

He did not wait for a reply before stepping out the door and leaving Cole standing in the middle of the foyer alone. In this big mansion, all alone – well, maybe there was a maid somewhere, but still. He let his bag slump to the floor and shook his head at his reflection.

“What the fuck have you gotten yourself into now?”

His reflection just shook his head back.

The morning seemed like a minor inconvenience to everyone else. The goons were annoyed by having to cart them around on James’s orders. Gideon had to go to work late and rearrange his schedule to deal with the situation. They all sped off as soon as the event ended, leaving Cole, the only one whose entire life was turned upside down, alone to entertain himself by exploring the mansion and ordering take-out. He sighed and turned away from the mirror, feeling, as always, like a pawn that anyone could just pick up and move around the game board as they pleased.

He was used to it, though. Water off his back.

Gideon had not been clear about how far he wanted them to go when ‘playing along’ for James, so he might just expect Cole to go home tomorrow and not bother him. He might as well take Gideon up on his offer to explore a bit. When else would he have the chance to poke around in a mansion like this with express permission?

He left his bag sitting on the foyer floor and started his exploration by going into the dining room since the door was already open. The décor was understated but in a disgustingly wealthy way, as was the rest of the house. There was a gorgeous wooden table with a red runner and a bouquet of yellow and orange flowers in the center. Along one wall was a sideboard with an elegant, abstract sculpture sitting on the marble top. The rest of the space was filled with huge, red drapes framing floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the front and side yards.

It opened into the kitchen through a set of double doors. Cole had already been in the kitchen, a bright room of marble and stainless steel. On the opposite side from the door to the dining room was a breakfast nook. It projected from the rest of the house, three walls of windows ending at the top of custom-made benches that wrapped around a table. They were upholstered with comfortable-looking cushions and backs. The windows overlooked a patio with a pool and a backyard stretching toward the line of trees surrounding the property.

“Excuse me.”

Cole jerked and spun toward the voice to find a woman in a sensible knee-length dress with her hair tied back and bright white sneakers on her feet. She blinked at him expectantly. In her hand was his bag, which he had left in the foyer. It was the maid he had kept expecting to run into.

“Would you like me to take this up to your room?” She held up the bag.

Seeing the bag in her hands was strange, not only because it was worn and had a zipper he had resewn at least five times - a huge contrast to her neat appearance - but because the bag was so utterly and completely his. He did not have many things to his name and a good amount of them were in that bag. It had been his livelihood for the past seven years. It traveled back and forth on the train with him, clutched tightly to his side or on his lap so that it would not touch the person in the seat beside him. He had gotten into fights with other dancers who moved it on the changing room counter. That was half the reason why he was one of the few to mark a spot along that long frame of vanity lights as his own.

And now the bag hung from the hand of a complete stranger.

“Oh,” He grabbed it quickly and slung it over his shoulder, clutching a little too desperately at the strap in front of his chest to seem casual. “No, thank you. I’m sorry for just leaving it on the floor.”

And then, maybe because she felt a similar possessiveness about the entire house, with all the tables she dusted and curtains she laundered, she smiled politely, eyes tight, and offered, “Would you like me to show you around?”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“No bother.” She did not want him poking around unsupervised, perhaps more protective of the house than the owner itself since she was the one to maintain and care for it. Like a nanny with an absentee parent’s child. Cole did not want to offend the staff right away, so he shrugged and said okay.

“Follow me, then. Down this hallway,” she opened the door to the right of the breakfast nook, “is just one room, really.”

There were two different glass sliding doors: one at the end, which led to a little side porch, and one to the right. The one to the right led to an empty room with a concrete floor that sloped to a drain in the middle. All of its walls and ceiling were constructed from glass paneling supported by steel beams.

“The previous owners had a whole extension planned with an indoor pool and a bunch of stuff that was supposed to go in over there.” She pointed, and Cole’s eyes followed her finger to the empty wall on the opposite side of the hall. “But they went bankrupt, and so the only things that were finished were this greenhouse and the porch.”

“Oh.” Cole looked around some more. The greenhouse was on the south side of the house, which meant that a stunning amount of sunlight streamed through the walls of windows.

“I’d love for Mr. Barta to actually use the greenhouse, but nobody ever comes down this hallway.” The maid tsked and shooed Cole back out into the kitchen, closing the door to the breezeway behind her. Cole would have thought that maintaining the rest of the house would be enough of a job without needing to babysit a bunch of plants. Maybe they were more interesting to care for than dusty old paintings.

“I’m Cole. What’s your name?” he asked as they crossed the kitchen to the door on the other side of the breakfast nook. It led out into the little hallway that stretched from the foyer past the stairs. There was a door leading underneath the stairs. The deep doorway utilized the space under the steps as shelves on either side of the door, which were laden with books and other knickknacks.

“Jessica,” the maid told him as she pushed open the door. He stepped through and into an enormous room.

There were gorgeous wooden ceiling coffers looking down over cream-colored walls, upon which hung more paintings like the ones in the foyer. They were museum pieces, including several portraits and a grand landscape as tall as Cole and twice as wide. It was obviously a space for entertaining guests rather than relaxing, with minimal furniture scattered around the expansive hardwood floor. A couch and two armchairs gathered intimately around a large fireplace with a fancy fire screen in front of its looming mouth. Cole was stunned by the paintings alone, which he imagined was their purpose.

“Is this an actual Monet?” He stopped in front of one of the paintings, put one hand on the side of his face, and hugged the other around his waist.

“It is.” Jessica stood beside him. “You knew that just from looking at it?”

“That’s what the little plaque says, but yes, I did know.” Cole shrugged, flabbergasted. It certainly was not one of his most well-known pieces, but his style was rather distinctive.  Jessica stared at him oddly.

Cole chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, spinning on his heels to look for something else to talk about. “Does Gideon ever actually have a fire?”

“Sure.” Jessica went along with the subject change amicably. “All the fireplaces are functional, but they are not used often.”

“That’s a shame.”

It seemed like much of this house was not used very often.

Cole hummed and trailed his fingers along the back of one of the armchairs. They, as well as the couch, were upholstered in an understated blue color, which nicely matched the tone of the paintings and the pops of bright sky blue from the curtains and in the rug beneath a grand piano. He went over to sit at the piano and traced the edge of the cover. It was black and shiny. He would definitely leave fingerprints all over it if he touched it too much.

He folded his hands in his lap and looked through the wall of windows framed by the blue curtains. They overlooked the back patio, giving a better view of the in-ground pool than the breakfast nook had. It was covered for the winter. Closer to the house, uncovered and steaming, was a hot tub. Cole smirked to himself, pleased that his prediction about the pool and hot tub had been accurate. He turned back to look over the great room again.

“Did Gideon do all this, or did he have an interior designer?”

“An interior designer, I believe.”

Cole nodded.

“Let’s continue?” Jessica prompted. She probably had better things to do than show Cole around. He stood up and adjusted the strap of his bag.