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but the waiters are always grabbing drinks to take over to the tables when it’s busy. As I look for the corkscrew, I see that Jamie has walked over and is leaning on the bar.
    “Mr. Grassingham is our Parliament rep. He’s staying here with his wife.”
    “Fascinating,” I say, finally locating the corkscrew.
    “Would you be so kind as to flip this coin?” He’s holding out a fifty-pence piece. “Heads, I reveal to the local paper that he’s fudged his taxes. Tails, I sleep with his wife.”
    “Right,” I say. Surely he’s not actually serious. The cork comes free from the bottle with a squeaky pop. He’s still holding out the coin.
    “Fine!” I say and take it from him. I throw it onto the bar. “Heads,” I tell him. “Poor old Mrs. Grassingham.”
    “Not to worry.” Jamie grins. “I’ll probably pay her a visit anyway. She assured me her room would be unlocked—and ‘old Mrs. Grassingham’ is a bit unfair. She’s only twenty-seven.”

Chapter 8
    When I arrive the next day for my late shift, there is no sign of Melanie, who’s supposed to be on the bar with Suzy.
    “No way, look!” says Dan, pointing into the conservatory.
    Melanie is out on the back terrace, talking to Jamie. He gestures for her to follow him, and she looks around. Her face is pink and flustered. They disappear along the path that leads to the pool house.
    “Oh my God!” says Suzy.
    Dan shakes his head. “No way,” he says again.
    I have a sudden urge to follow them. But what am I going to do—watch?
    “Do you want a hand at the bar?” Dan asks Suzy.
    “No, I should be fine,” she replies. “There’s only one old guy there ordering whiskey, and he hasn’t moved for a while. I might go and make sure he’s not dead.”
    When she’s gone, Dan turns to me. “Hello,” he says with a grin.
    “Hello,” I reply, and we start chatting about the shift he’s just finished. Before I know it, twenty minutes have gone by and I have to go get changed.
    I find the servants’ quarters, where there are lockers, showers, and a changing room the staff can use. As I get near the shower room, I can hear water running. I have a wild thought that it’s Jamie and Melanie and that they came in here instead of going to the pool house. They’ll probably have locked the door if it is. I try the doorknob and it opens. My mind is running through things I might see and how I probably shouldn’t want to see them. I’m just curious; it’s so unbelievable.
    I walk in, and at first I can’t see anything through the steam. Then the running water turns off and the shower door swings open.
    It’s not Jamie.
    It’s a girl.
    And she’s completely naked.

Chapter 9
    The girl looks at me with mild surprise but doesn’t seem too bothered that I’ve just walked in on her. Which is in complete contrast to me, standing frozen in awkwardness.
    “Hello!” I say in a way that reminds me of Jeff. Or someone else old.
    She has an angular face with sharp features, skin that is a coffee color, and long, dark hair cascading in dripping strands around her head. And no clothes, obviously. Her long, slim legs glisten, and she has small, round breasts that I am finding it hard not to stare at. It’s not that easy to keep eye contact with someone who’s naked. But when I do concentrate on her face, I think I know her, and then I realize—she’s the girl from Jamie’s Facebook pictures. This is Cleo.
    “I’m s—” I start to say and then inhale a ton of steam and start coughing.
    She looks at me coolly. “Got a towel?”
    “Um, yeah, in here somewhere.” I fumble with my bag. With a pang of embarrassment, I realize I’ve brought Matthew’s old Thomas the Tank Engine towel. “It’s my little brother’s,” I mumble.
    She shrugs and takes it. “I forgot mine.” She pats her body dry and then starts drying her hair, not covering up anything at all. “You’re new,” she says.
    “I’m Mia. I started last week.”
    “He said there was