Now she was nothing to him—she couldn't even speak during a meal.
There was no comparison.
Sheila went back to quietly eating her food.
Edmond gave her a cold glance but didn't say anything else.
After dinner, she looked at him.
He stood up. "Come here."
She obediently followed him into the living room.
He sat down on the sofa and tipped his chin. "Sit."
She took a seat on the opposite sofa.
"What do you think a life assistant is supposed to do?"
"I have no idea," she admitted honestly. "But you mentioned fetching coffee and pouring water earlier. Is there anything else? As long as I'm capable of it, I can do it."
"The tasks are secondary. The most important thing is to be observant," he told her.
"For example?"
"If I'm working in the study, what do you do?"
She thought about it. "I wait outside? Ready to be called at any moment?"
He looked down at her for a second, then stood up.
She couldn't figure out what he wanted.
"Aren't you coming?"
His voice carried a hint of disdain.
She quickly got to her feet.
He led her upstairs and pushed open a bedroom door. "You'll sleep here tonight."
"Where do you sleep?" she asked quickly.
"Why, planning to sneak into my room later?"
That absolutely wasn't what she meant.
She just wanted to know how far her room was from his.
Besides, in her mind, the staff—like the maids and the chef—usually had rooms downstairs or in a separate wing, right?
"Shouldn't I be sleeping downstairs?" she asked.


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