Stand-In Groom by Kaye Dacus

of the third-floor bedrooms. I will be staying in a room in the basement—beside the housekeeper’s room. Nothing untoward will happen.”
    “If you’re not—then why—?”
    “Because it’s obvious she cannot stay here one moment longer.”
    “Well, I never!” Mrs. Landry folded her arms across her ample— and most likely not natural—chest. From the way her face screwed up, she seemed to be trying to conjure some tears. “I can’t believe you’re going to choose him over me! Is that what you really want? Because if you leave here, that’s what you’re doing. I’ll…I’ll never speak to you again.”
    Courtney kept packing; but her hands shook, and she tossed items in the suitcase haphazardly. George mirrored Mrs. Landry’s movements to stay between them.
    “Court?” Mrs. Landry glared at him when her daughter didn’t answer. She planted her fists on her hips. “Fine. But you’ll come back here begging my forgiveness before too long.” She turned and flounced out of the room.
    “I’m through here.” Courtney slapped the lid of the suitcase down and zipped it closed. “If I’ve left anything behind, we can come back for it tomorrow when she’s at the tanning salon.”
    Although happy to be leaving, George dreaded going downstairs and walking through the house again. Gold-plated cherubs and low-quality reproduction Greek and Roman statuary crowded every inch of space possible.
    The wheels of the suitcase caught on the faux tiger-skin rug—atleast he
hoped
it was fake—that covered Italian ceramic tile in the front foyer. He heaved the bag up and carried it to the door.
    Her baggage barely fit into the car trunk.
    “I’m so sorry about my mom.” Courtney rested her elbow on the windowsill but leaned toward him as the cabriolet ragtop closed. He didn’t want to take any chances with the thunder growling in the distance. “She always wanted to be rich—I remember she and Daddy used to argue all the time about how she wasted money on junk. Then after he died…”
    He started the car and left with all due haste. “How long ago did your father pass away?”
    “Ten years ago in April—an accident at work. Mama got a lawyer, and the chemical plant settled out of court for millions of dollars. Mama finally had more money than she could spend on all of the chintzy junk she’d always wanted. Lucky for me, she decided to send me to a private prep school, where I lived on campus nine months out of the year.”
    That explained how she’d escaped unspoiled. “I’ve seen enough people like her in my time. You don’t have to apologize for her actions or words.”
    Thank God his employer’s home lay on the other side of the city from her mother. Unfortunately, Mrs. Landry had been to the house and could probably find her way back should the fancy strike her. His stomach churned—although it could have just been hunger pains since he’d only eaten a few bites of his dinner before making the grand exit with Courtney in tow. “You don’t think your mother will show up on the doorstep, do you?”
    “Nope. There’s no way she could find it again. She didn’t pay attention on the way over, and she fired that driver this afternoon because he didn’t change lanes when she told him to.”
    At the front door, he taught Courtney the security code to get in. She insisted on carrying two of the smaller suitcases, while he managed the large one and the hanging bag. Why had he decided to put her on the third floor? The second floor would have been mucheasier on his knees than climbing all these stairs.
    Courtney chose the room at the end of the hall—the one that would make a “perfect nursery,” and one of the few that had a full set of furniture. Pale pink walls and white and pink linens hugged the room in femininity. Perfect for the very feminine creature who stood beside him—whose stomach emitted a roaring growl.
    She rubbed her tummy and grinned at him. “I’m kinda hungry. Think we can raid