Chapter 283
Life was going our way. Victor was the Leader of the Association, and I was starting classes at Frampton University in two weeks!
I had to go shopping for new jeans and tops. A silk designer dress would be out of place as I walked through the quad.
But today, I promised to walk through Archer Manor with Amy. We wanted to make notes about any changes and ideas we had to convert the enormous old mansion into a place for homeless Betas and Omegas to start over.
I drove to Lycan Square and parked in front of the manor. I spotted Amy and climbed from my car to meet her at the manor’s front door.
“It’s still creepy,” Amy said. “How do I fix creepy?”
“Paint it a lighter color?” I suggested. But the bad vibes seemed to emanate from the core of the house. Paint couldn’t cover that.
But I didn’t want to discourage Amy from her mission. Her idea to turn this place into something positive must become a reality. A homeless shelter and employment training center were needed in Denhurst.
We climbed the steps to the porch, and the door opened. My eyes widened at the sight of Alfred standing in the doorway.
“Hello, Miss Gray,” Alfred said. “And Miss Wilson. Come in. May I show you around the house?”
“Yes. Thank you, Alfred,” Amy said.
We entered the house, and I whispered to Amy, “Why is he still here?”
“Alfred is a Beta,” Amy explained. “He knows the house and wants to assist us with our mission to help other Betas.”
“That’s great,” I said.
Amy was right. Alfred had no part in Pat and Amelia’s evil crimes. He would be the perfect liaison for the people who needed the house’s services.
But seeing Aaron Archer coming down the main staircase was a bigger surprise.
“Hello, Amy,” Aaron greeted his granddaughter. “I’ve decided to take you up on your offer.”
I gave Amy a side glance.
“I offered Aaron a job as a live-in advisor,” Amy explained again. “He was a good businessman before he retired. He still has contacts we may need and wants to help make the house a success.”
“Yeah, that’s nice,” I said. Again, he wasn’t responsible for his wife and daughter’s crimes, but he gave me a bad feeling.
“I was on my way out,” Aaron said. “See you later.” Aaron smiled and went out the front door.
“Shall we start your tour upstairs?” Alfred asked.
“Sure,” Amy agreed and pulled out a mini tablet.
Alfred started up the stairs. With his tall, thin form, he had no trouble walking up the many stairs. But I groaned when he went up the second set of stairs to the third floor.
“The attic access is through a closet in the last bedroom in the south hallway,” Alfred told us. “There are sixteen bedrooms and four bathrooms on this floor. It was used to house the servants during Miss Martha’s tenure.”
We looked into the rooms that had been used as servant’s bedrooms. They were worn, but they could be made comfortable again.
“We could put two people in each of these rooms,” Amy said as she typed a note into her tablet.
“What’s in the attic?” I asked.
“Old furniture, clothing, holiday decorations, and such,” Alfred replied. “It’s just a place to store things.”
“We can save that for another day,” Amy said. “Show us the second floor.”
We followed Alfred down one flight of stairs.
“There are two master suites, four bathrooms, two sitting rooms, and eight bedrooms on this floor.” Alfred opened the first door to the right of the stairs. “This was Miss Martha’s suite.”
The suite consisted of a bedroom, bathroom, and a sitting room. Martha’s things were still there, including her toothbrush in the bathroom and a blue bathrobe draped across the foot of an antique canopy bed.
“You could use the suites to house families with many children,” I suggested.
“I like that,” Amy said as she typed my idea into her tablet. “Let’s see the bedrooms on this floor.”
As we walked from the room, a loud thump came from the sitting room. We backtracked to see what it was and found a framed photo on the floor.
Amy stayed in the doorway. “What made it fall off the wall?”
I picked up the photo and saw it was a photo of Martha and a stern-looking man with a thick mustache and eyebrows.
“That was Miss Martha’s husband,” Albert explained.
“My great-grandfather, right?” Amy asked.
“No, that is Robert Richardson, her second husband,” Alfred explained. “She remarried a year after she was widowed.”
“Is he …um …dead?” Amy asked.
“Oh, yes,” Alfred said. For many years now.” He hung the picture back on the nail on the wall. “It’s strange. Miss Martha would never have had this photo in her rooms.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“She and Mr. Richardson didn’t get along well,” Albert revealed. “I think it was a relief to her when he had a heart attack and died four months after they married.”
Amy and I exchanged glances and hurried out of the room. The manor was still creepy.
We toured the rest of the house and decided to use the first floor for common rooms, job training rooms, and offices.
We thanked Alfred and went for lunch to talk. It was no coincidence that we went to a small restaurant where Heather Woodward worked as a waitress.
“There is discrimination in the college admissions system,” I said after we sat at a booth. “There is no other explanation. Heather should be attending classes at Frampton University in my place.”
“Not in your place,” Amy said. “I think you deserve to attend classes there.”
I grinned. “Thanks, sweetie. But I will find out how bad the discrimination is and find a way to inform people about it.”
Our waitress told us Heather wasn’t working today, but she was working the breakfast and lunch shifts the following day.
We ate while discussing Amy’s project and then left for our homes.
I spent the afternoon online, looking up statistics about college admissions. What I found was worse than I thought.
After printing pages of data, I went outside to sit in the pond pagoda to study it closer.
I was appalled by what the statistics showed. Betas were rarely accepted at good schools, and Omegas never were.
They also never received scholarships or grants, making it harder for the few Betas who made it through the rigged admissions system.
To make it worse, legacy admissions, children of wealthy alums, were always accepted even with extremely low grades and test scores.
I tossed the pages aside in disgust when Victor appeared on the bridge to the pagoda. I stood and held out my arms to him.
We embraced for a long moment.
“You looked so serious, sweetheart,” Victor said. “I’m glad I’m here to cheer you up.”
“I’m working on a new project,” I said and turned the papers upside down. I didn’t want to discuss it with Victor until I had all the facts.
“It’s a warm day.” Victor unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. “Let’s go for a swim.”
My eyes took in the magnificent sight of his bare torso, and I melted. But I wanted to make him work for it a little.
“I’d have to go inside for a swimsuit,” I said.
“No, you don’t,” he insisted while toying with the top button on my top. “The gardener is off, and nobody else is home.”
His lips met mine, and I lost any will to tease him. We kissed frantically while stripping off our clothes.
His hands squeezed my buttocks while his tongue took possession of my mouth. Fire ignited in my loins and spread through my belly when he laid me on the bench and ran his tongue over my breasts.
I thought we were going to swim,” I moaned.
He took my hand and pulled me from the bench. We jumped off the bridge together and into the water.
Victor leaned against a bridge support and motioned me to him. I floated in the silky water in front of him, rubbing my breasts against his hard chest until he grabbed my hips and entered my woman’s passage.
He moved slowly at first until our lips met again. Then our passion flamed hotter. He circled my waist with his hands and pistoned his hips until we moaned with pleasure.
After we were satisfied, we clung to each other and laughed with joy.
He looked into my eyes. “What aren’t you saying, my love?”
I licked his lips. “I want two favors.”
He smiled. “Name them.”
“I'd like a tour of the Association Complex,” I said.
Victor chuckled. “Of course. What else?”
“Let’s make love again.”
He pulled me closer. “You don’t have to ask for that.”
