Eileen waited in the box until everything was steady and she could no longer hear noises after the distant sound of a door shutting.
She took a deep breath and pushed the lid open, peeking out cautiously before jumping out of the box. She landed softly, panting and heaving heavily.
"Oh my God," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "I'm on the edge of tears."
She quickly scanned the grand parlor, noting the opulent décor – a grand chandelier, ornate furnishings, and large, curtained windows. Her eyes caught sight of a grand staircase in the hallway beyond the parlor.
Eileen crept towards the stairs, her footsteps silent on the plush carpet.
Every creak of the floorboards made her jump, her nerves frayed from the tension. She reached the foot of the stairs and paused, listening for any sounds.
The house was eerily quiet, amplifying the sound of her own breathing.
Deciding it was safe for now, she started to ascend the staircase, each step cautious and deliberate. At the top, she glanced down the long corridor lined with closed doors.
"I need to find a way to leave here," she muttered to herself.
She chose the closest door and gently turned the handle, slipping inside.
The room was a lavish guest bedroom, its elegance betraying the wealth of the household. Eileen closed the door quietly behind her and leaned against it, trying to collect her thoughts.
"What have I gotten myself into?" she whispered, the reality of her situation weighing heavily on her. "I need a plan."
After taking a moment to steady herself, she moved towards the window, peering out into the garden.
The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the lawn. She knew she didn't have much time before nightfall.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten in hours. She needed food to keep her strength up. Quietly, she made her way back downstairs, heading towards the kitchen.
When she entered the kitchen, the sight of broken glass scattered across the floor caught her attention.
"Hmm," she mused, raising an eyebrow at the mess. "Looks like someone's had a bad day."
Ignoring the mess for a moment, she headed to the fridge, her stomach growling louder. She opened it and was relieved to find some food. Grabbing a plate of leftovers, she turned on the microwave and set the timer.
While the food warmed up, Eileen decided to clean up the broken glass. "Might as well do the owner a favor," she thought. "If he's feeding me, the least I can do is tidy up."
She found a broom and dustpan and began to sweep up the glass shards carefully.
As she worked, she couldn't help but think about the events that had led her here and what her next steps would be.
When she finished cleaning up, she turned her attention back to the microwave.
The timer dinged, and she retrieved the warm plate of food. The aroma made her stomach rumble louder, and she couldn't wait to dig in.
Eileen sat at the small kitchen table, taking a moment to savor the first bite. It was delicious, and she felt a wave of gratitude wash over her.
"Thank you, whoever you are," she whispered, raising her fork in a mock toast.
As she ate, she planned her next move.
She needed to find a way out of this house and get back on track. But for now, a brief moment of respite and a decent meal were enough to recharge her spirits.
When Eileen was done eating, clearing the dishes, all preparing her escape she suddenly stopped. On second thought, she felt sweaty and in pain from being cramped in the box.
"I need a bath," she said to herself. She found her way to a room that looked more prestigious, close to the kitchen.
She entered, and immediately, the scent of masculinity and a frosty, Christmas-like smell filled her senses. It was a natural, comforting scent.
Inside, she moved deeper into the room, noting its luxurious decor.
She stepped into the bedroom and spotted a robe and two towels – one dry and one used. She picked up the used towel and inhaled deeply; it smelled like Christmas and was distinctly masculine.
"Definitely a man's room," she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Eileen decided to take a quick shower.
She took off her clothes, wrapping the used towel around her body. "I'll use the dry one to dry my hair," she decided.
She moved into the bathroom, finding a large tub and a jacuzzi.
Absentmindedly, she filled the jacuzzi with warm water, humming a soft tune as she did so. The sound of the water and the warmth of the room began to relax her tense muscles.
Eileen slipped into the tub, sighing in relief as the warm water enveloped her. She continued to hum softly, letting the stress and fear of the day melt away for just a moment.
As Eileen lay in the bath, her eyes closed, her thoughts began to drift. The frosty scent mingled with the natural masculine aroma of the bathroom. It was familiar.
Her eyes suddenly snapped open in surprise.
"Frosty?" she whispered, the name escaping her lips.
The scent was strikingly similar to that of the man she had met at the airport. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. Could it be?
She closed her eyes again, trying to meditate on the calming warmth of the water, but her mind kept returning to that scent.
After a few more minutes, she felt ready to get up. As she turned towards the doorway, her heart skipped a beat.
There, standing in the doorway, was a man in a sharp three-piece suit. His long, dark hair brushed his shoulders, and he looked like a character straight out of a novel.
His arms were crossed, and he leaned casually against the doorframe, watching her.
Eileen's breath caught in her throat. Was this real, or was she imagining things?
The door was indeed open, and there he was, his lips curling into a smirk. She wanted to yell out, to demand who he was, but no sound came from her mouth.
The man's eyes were intense, locked onto hers. He took a step forward, the smirk never leaving his face. "Enjoying your bath?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.
Eileen finally found her voice, though it was shaky. "Who...who are you?"
The man chuckled softly. "You're in my house, using my bathroom, and you ask who I am?"
Eileen swallowed hard, trying to gather her wits. "I didn't mean to intrude. I...I just needed a place to rest for a moment."
He raised an eyebrow. "Resting in my jacuzzi, I see. Quite bold of you."
She pulled the robe tighter around herself, feeling exposed despite the water. "I can explain," she began, but he held up a hand to stop her.
"Save it," he said, his tone commanding but not unkind. "Get dressed and come downstairs. We need to talk."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Eileen alone in the bathroom.
She took a deep breath, her mind racing. Who was this man, and how was she going to get out of this situation?
She quickly got out of the tub, dried herself off, and put on the robe.