A Man of Many Parts

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Donovan heard a car approaching the house and went to the living room windows to see who it was. Not that he thought it would be anyone other than Mr. Martin, the man he’d hired to restore the atlas to its original condition. He was still upset with himself for not having noticed what had been done to the volume before he’d made his final bid on it. “Being too competitive will be the death of me,” he murmured. “Or at least of my bank account.”

He watched as the car came to a stop and the door opened. If asked, and who would, he was surprised when he saw the man who got out. He’d expected someone a good deal older. Mr. Martin, if it was him, was on the tall side, and muscular, with dark hair. He appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties.

When the man walked up the stairs to the front door, Donovan gestured to Walton to let him in, which his estate manager did. Donovan heard the man introduce himself as Jackson Martin and Walton reply, “If you’ll follow me. Mr. Hayes is in the living room.”

A moment later they came through the archway and Donovan joined them, saying to Mr. Martin, “I’m Donovan Hayes.”

“Jackson Martin,” the restorer replied, looking around. “Impressive.”

Donovan nodded. “I agree, Mr. Martin.”

Martin’s eyebrows rose momentarily, but all he said was, “If you don’t mind, can we dispense with the formality and use first names instead?”

“Of course. Do you prefer Jackson or Jack?”

“Jackson. I presume no one calls you Don.”

“That is a presumption, but for the most part you’re correct. Only those few I consider close friends do,” Donovan replied with a brief smile. “If you’ll give Walton the keys to your car, he’ll get your bags.”

Jackson frowned. “I wasn’t aware you intended on my staying here.”

“Of course I do. It’s much more convenient than you traipsing back and forth to even the nearest motel, which is a good ten miles away.”

With a shrug, Jackson handed Walton his keys. When he left, Jackson asked, “Is he the butler?”

“The estate manager,” Donovan replied. “When necessary, he functions as my butler. Otherwise, he’s in charge of handling things that I don’t want to be bothered with, like managing my other employees.”

“How many are there?”

“The cook, two housemaids, the housekeeper, and the groundskeeper.”

“No chauffeur?” Jackson asked with apparent sincerity.

“I’m quite capable of driving myself,” Donovan replied, before realizing from Jackson’s grin that he’d been teasing, which annoyed him. “But enough of this,” he added when Walton appeared with Jackson’s bags. “Dinner is served at seven. It’s five, now, which will give you time to settle in. Afterward, I’ll show you my library and the atlas. Walton will take you to your room.”