The Help (Kings of Linwood Academy, #1)(3)

He sticks his hand out, and Mom composes herself quickly and shakes it, smoothing down her rumpled skirt with her other hand. It’s really not fucking fair to have to meet your new employer after ten hours in a moving truck, but she looks great.

“You must be Samuel,” she says. “Penelope Thomas. And this is my daughter, Harlow.”

He pumps her hand vigorously before turning his attention to me. I don’t think I survived the drive as un-rumpled as my mom did—my hair feels limp and gross, and I opted for comfort instead of style, so I’m just wearing a thin white t-shirt and a pair of jeans with holes in the knees. But Samuel Black doesn’t seem to mind any of that. He steps forward and takes my hand in both of his, a broad smile curving his lips.

“A pleasure to meet you, Harlow. Welcome to Connecticut.”

“Thanks.”

He’s not squeezing my hand hard, but his grip still feels constricting somehow. I pull it back as soon as he releases it, hoping the movement wasn’t too obvious. He rests a hand on Mom’s shoulder as he guides her around the truck toward the house, and I trail along in their wake.

“We’ll give you time to get settled in and unpack, but let me show you around and introduce you quickly.”

He keeps talking as he leads us up the steps to the front door, asking Mom about the drive, the weather in Arizona, and how she likes the East Coast so far. I tune out their conversation as we step inside the house, blinking at the grand, high-ceilinged foyer. Arched doorways on all sides lead to other parts of the house, and a curved staircase on the right side of the room connects to the upper level. A balcony overlooks the entryway from the second floor, and it’s while I’m staring up at it that a body collides with mine.

I yelp, my heart kickstarting in my chest. Strong arms wrap around me from behind, keeping us both from toppling over, and a warm, spicy scent hits my nostrils as the guy lets out a soft, surprised grunt.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“Language, Lincoln.” Samuel and my mom both turn around at the commotion, and the older man cocks a disapproving eyebrow. The thick arms encasing me fall away as the guy steps back, and I scramble to compose myself, smoothing down my hair as I turn to look at who plowed into me.

Oh, damn.

This is Samuel Black’s son, I’m sure of that.

He’s got the same almost-black hair as his father, although it’s longer and a little more wild. His eyes are an amber honey color, a vivid contrast to his dark hair, and he’s got a long, straight nose, high cheekbones, and angular features. They’re incredibly symmetrical, so much so that he almost doesn’t seem human. More like he came out of some “hot rich boy” mold or something.

His father’s got the look of someone who was stunningly handsome in his youth and is aging well. But this guy? He probably hasn’t even hit the peak of his good looks yet.

And I can see why he ran into me. I stopped to gawk right in front of a doorway that leads to what looks like a den or something.

“Lincoln, this is our new Executive Housekeeper, Penelope Thomas, and her daughter, Harlow. She’ll be going to school with you.”

Samuel beams as he makes the introduction, ushering my mom forward with a hand at her lower back. She smiles and steps up to shake Lincoln’s hand, but in the two seconds it takes her to reach him, I see something change in his eyes. His gaze was curious and vaguely neutral when he looked at me before, but now his brows draw together slightly, and the warm amber of his eyes hardens like glass. His jaw twitches too, like he’s clenching his teeth, and when he shakes my mom’s hand, the movement is stiff.

His dad turns to me expectantly.

Fuck.

The last thing I want to do is shake this boy’s hand. For one thing, given his sudden change in attitude, I’m afraid he might bite it off. And for another, his spicy, coriander scent is still clinging to me from when we collided earlier, and I don’t think I can handle another hit of it so soon.

Not because I don’t like it, but because I really, really do.

But he’s the son of my mom’s new employer, and both she and Samuel are watching me now. I can’t just cross my arms over my chest and refuse.

So I swallow heavily and step forward, holding out my hand. He takes it in one of his, and unlike his father’s handshake, his grip is strong, almost bruising.

Like he’s trying to see if I’ll break.

I squeeze back a little harder myself, forcing a smile to my face. “Nice to meet you, Lincoln.”

He nods, his eyes narrowing slightly as he keeps his hold on my hand. “You’re the new help?”

Samuel lets out a quiet, disapproving noise behind me, but his son ignores him.

“Executive Housekeeper,” I correct, bristling at the term.

He cocks his head with a taunting grin. “You’re the Executive Housekeeper?”

“No. My mom is. I’m her… assistant.”

Goddammit, I wish I knew what game we’re playing so I’d know if I was winning or losing.

His grin dissipates, and his gaze flicks from me to Mom to his dad. When it lands on me again, there’s no trace of humor left on his face.

“Got it. Good to know.”

He releases my hand suddenly, gives a curt nod to the adults, and then heads up the stairs to the second floor.

“Good to know?” What the fuck does that mean?