The bedrooms upstairs were huge compared to most modern standards, all of them with built-in cupboards and en suite bathrooms. The master suite, which was the only one furnished and obviously being used, was enormous. Not only did it have its own private bathroom with a jacuzzi and a shower big enough for two, but a large dressing room, as well.
Daisy could hardly believe there was nothing out of place in any of these rooms. No towels left on the floor, no toiletries sprawled over the vanity bench in the bathroom where she could still smell the lingering scent of his aftershave cologne, which undoubtedly occupied a shelf in the mirrored cupboard above the vanity bench. She didn’t look for it, uneasy enough about this much intrusion of privacy.
It felt weirdly intimate just staring at the colour coordinated rows of clothes in his dressing room, with the matching shoes precisely lined up in specially made racks below them. It had surprised her that his bed had been made, not left in disarray, but all this…was Ethan Cartwright obsessively neat or did he simply like everything in order?
Daisy shook her head in sheer bemusement. She’d never known a man who wasn’t messy—her brothers, her father, past boyfriends, Carl in particular, stepping out of their clothes, leaving them on the floor, piling dirty dishes in the sink, shoes being dropped wherever they took them off. They didn’t actually expect a woman to clean up after them. Mess didn’t seem to bother them. She wondered why Ethan Cartwright was different.
Even the kitchen had been absolutely pristine, though he must have made himself some breakfast since he was living here. All the stainless-steel appliances had been gleaming and there hadn’t been so much as a wipe smear on the black granite bench tops. Curiosity drove her downstairs to check his pantry. Sure enough the shelves were packed in precise order, sauces and spices lined up for easy access, other staples grouped together. It was certainly the most efficient way to organise a kitchen. Maybe he was a genius at time and motion.
Daisy couldn’t help being impressed by this aspect of his character. She was a bit of a neat freak herself, liking to know where everything was so she didn’t get frustrated hunting for mislaid items, wasting time that wouldn’t need to be wasted if a bit more care was taken in the first place. But maybe he was a control freak, which wouldn’t be easy to live with. She had to stop thinking things that added to an attraction that was already too disturbingly strong.
The doorbell was a welcome distraction.
It was the architect.
‘Hi! I’m Charlie Hollier and I presume you’re Daisy Donahue,’ he rattled out with a broad smile. ‘Ethan called me and said you’d be here.’
‘Right!’ She smiled back. He was short and stocky, not much taller than her, with a rather homely face and friendly blue eyes twinkling at her as though he was happy to make her acquaintance. The fact that he was wearing blue jeans and a blue-and-white checked sports shirt also made Daisy feel immediately relaxed with him.
‘He mentioned you suggested a bar in the games room. Good idea! Should have thought of it myself. We won’t have to wait until the end of a game to go and get a drink from the kitchen.’
‘You’re one of his Tuesday group?’
He nodded. ‘Always a great night. Let’s go and have a look where best to put it.’
They walked inside to survey the situation. Daisy could not contain her curiosity. ‘How many of you come to play?’
‘Well, there’s the old solid core from Riverview. Ethan and Mickey started it amongst the boarders in our class when we were at school together. A bit of competitive fun when we weren’t at sport or study. That’s three regulars plus Mickey when he’s in town, and other friends we’ve made since then. Usually we have eight people turn up, sometimes more.’
Riverview…it was one of the big private schools at Hunters Hill, sited just across the Lane Cove River from this house. Being a boarder probably meant each student had allotted spaces for his possessions and he would certainly be disciplined into making his bed. If Ethan Cartwright had spent the six years of secondary school there, that could have become habitual, and it would be fairly natural for him to have a place for everything and everything kept in its place—nothing too odd about it.
Daisy was bursting to ask more questions about Ethan Cartwright’s personal life, but reined in what could be seen as too much interest from a mere employee.
The architect decided on a corner bar next to the wall that backed onto the utility room—easy to run plumbing for a sink through from there. He would amend the plans and give a new set to Daisy so she could keep an eye on everything and stop mistakes from being made. ‘I’m delighted Ethan has found someone to be on the spot all the time,’ he added enthusiastically. ‘You’d be surprised how often things have to be fixed because they weren’t done right in the first place.’
Daisy was relieved to hear this. It made her feel she could be of real value here, earning her salary.
‘In fact, I’d appreciate it—Ethan would, too—if you’d ensure that the men laying the slate around the pool today get the mix right,’ Charlie ran on as they strolled out to the back of the house where the work was going on. ‘Quite a lot of the slate will be charcoal-grey without the blue-green streaks in it. Sometimes they just reach for the next piece of slate in the pile and you end up with a square metre of all grey instead of splashes of colour here and there.’
‘Okay. I’ll keep an eye on that,’ Daisy promised, feeling better and better about the job.
They toured the whole site together with Charlie checking on progress, Daisy listening to how he wanted everything to be. ‘It seems a bit weird to me that all this is just for one person,’ she couldn’t help commenting as they returned to the house.
‘Actually Ethan was planning to get married when he bought the place,’ Charlie tossed off casually. ‘Changed his mind, thank God!’
She shot him a quizzical look. ‘You didn’t like the woman?’
He grimaced. ‘A bit too much into being the lady of the manor for my liking. But I’m glad Ethan decided to keep the manor anyway. It’s going to be fantastic when it’s all finished.’
‘It certainly is,’ she agreed, terribly tempted to pump more out of Charlie about the woman, but that was none of her business and it should remain none of her business.
Nevertheless, the phrase—lady of the manor—conjured up someone stunningly beautiful with all the airs and graces learnt from an exclusive finishing school where manners were polished and deportment and elocution were perfected. No doubt she had been trained to be the wife of a billionaire, knowing how to hostess every social event and look the part with elegant ease. Ethan Cartwright would naturally choose to marry a woman like that. She wondered what had happened to change his mind about the one he had chosen.