Soul-Bonded to the Alien(4)

The spell that kept Paige from moving was broken, giving her an opportunity to look around the foyer. It was large with ornate lights on the ceiling; on the right was the desk that Selma stood at and on the left was an open door that seemed to lead into a large living area. Right in front of her was a beautiful staircase reminding her of the ones she saw in movies. She could imagine a kiss for the ages being played out on that staircase.

Shoving the romantic inside of her down, she walked over to Selma. She read over the paper work before signing, then she did a little internal dance when she saw the price of the room. She would be able to stay a while if needed. Coming in the off season would give her some breathing room financially.

“Let me show you to your room. Victor will bring your bags.”

“Why am I always doing the grunt work?”

Selma’s laughter floated down the stairs as she ascended.

He stood there with a smile on his face not looking one bit like a disgruntled worker.

“Come on, Paige,” Selma called down.

Grabbing her over the shoulder bag and her purse Paige followed Selma up the stairs.

“You must love living here, it’s beautiful.” The pictures that lined the walls were actual paintings. They were so detailed and precise catching the different scenes with an intensity that reached out to grab her. “I love these painting, they look like they should be in a museum.”

“Victor will be glad to hear that. He’s the artist in the family.”

“He painted them?”

“Uh huh. He painted those in his spare time. When he’s not painting he’s catching images with his camera. When you have settled in you should have him show you around his studio.”

“He must be famous.”

“He is, but you’ll never know it because he produces and releases under several different names. We like our quiet life in Newburg and want to keep it that way.”

“How many floors do you have?”

“We have three floors. This floor and the one above it are for guests. The top floor is where Victor and I live.”

Selma led her down the hall that held two doors on one side and one on the other. She stopped in front of the single door opening it. This will be your room.

Paige stepped in and turned around. This wasn’t a room, it was a suite. The kind she was sure she couldn’t afford.

“This is much too large, all I need is a small room.”

“Nonsense, this is perfect. You’re in the living area now. Behind the door to your right is the bedroom and the door on your left leads to the bathroom. We serve dinner at six, that gives you two hours to rest and refresh yourself. Here’s Victor with your suitcases.”

Paige turned around to find her luggage in the room but there was no sign of Victor.

“Thank you, Selma.”

“It’s my pleasure Paige, see you at six.” Selma closed the door as she left.

The living room was elegantly decorated in browns with accents of rose. The chairs and couch looked comfortably overstuffed. Paige took off her coat hanging it in a closet that was hidden in the corner of the room. Rolling her luggage behind her she headed for the bedroom, she might as well enjoy the luxury while she had a chance.

The bedroom made her dream of home. Not that she knew what home was. She was raised in an orphanage. She was never adopted, never fostered; she was the kid that no one ever noticed. She knew what institutionalized beds felt like and mass produced turkey as well as impersonal gifts under the tree. After she was old enough to go it alone she wanted to resent the orphanage but couldn’t. They did what they could so she would have a chance at life. It was too bad she never quite landed on her feet.

Touching the bed, she felt her hand sink in. The mattress would feel like she was sleeping on a cloud, she was sure of that. Quickly she stowed the clothes she brought thinking several of the items were impractical now that she actually saw the snow. After putting her suitcases away, she grabbed a change of clothes and headed towards the bathroom. She couldn’t wait to see if her bathroom was as luxurious as the rest of the suite.

The bathroom looked like it came right out of one of those beautiful homes magazines she bought when she was in the mood to torture herself. It was large with a deep soaker tub and a separate shower with several shower heads at different levels. As much as she wanted to try them out, her body was begging to slip into a tub of hot water with scented bubbles.

She turned on the faucet and searched the cabinets hoping a bubble bath would reveal itself. Eureka, she found several scents and sniffed each until she found the one that appealed to her, Summer Apple. Adding a liberal amount, she slid her tired body into the water and groaned with relief as her muscles began to relax.