9. Ethan
Olivia is the first cleaning lady to grace these halls in nearly three months. I normally work from my apartment in the city, but I had to move back in here to sort out everything to prepare for selling the house.
The garden needed an overhaul. I had a contractor here last week to fix a leak in the roof and an issue with the boiler in the basement. I know the maid needs to intrude on my personal space to do her job…but of all the rooms I’d expected her to violate today, my bedroom wasn’t one of them. That it’s pretty little Olivia, and not the sixty-something grandmother they sent last time, just makes it worse.
“Leave it,” I bark, gesturing roughly at the bed. “I’ll pack it away later.”
My room isn’t dirty. It’s just… messy. I haven’t really bothered to make the bed or clean away any of the wineglasses and bottles piling up on my desk.
Olivia shifts uneasily, glancing around as if wondering when in the hell her life took such a wrong turn. “I’ll need to come clean in here. Unless you want to do it yourself. But I’m guessing if that had been an option…” The sentence trails off, but the challenging glint in her eyes fills in the blanks.
If that had been an option, I’d have done it myself.
Why does this young woman with her defiant eyes and lush, unhappy mouth make me so goddamn angry?
And I swear, if she calls me sir one more time…
I relent with ill grace, waving toward my closet. “Fine. But be quick. And you can come back later to clean, not now, I’m?—”
“Busy. Yes, Sir.”
I can practically hear her rolling her eyes at me. I’m still standing at the door, my hand pressed to it like I’m the only thing stopping it from swinging open and releasing the heat trapped inside. Not just heat, but the smell of wood smoke and a computer that’s running too hot. I can’t handle the cold—another reason I should have sold this old house months ago.
Now that I’ve finally pulled the trigger, everything is working against me and keeping me bound to this house. First, all the repair work. Now a stubborn maid, bucking and rebelling at every command.
“Watch your mouth, girl,” I tell her. “Or I’ll send you straight back to town.”
She backs up to the closet like I’m a wild animal who’ll pounce on her the moment she turns her back. A wise assumption. I’m feeling all kinds of edgy today. “Sorry. I’m…new to this.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell.”
Her mouth twists, but she says nothing. Instead, she decides it’s safe to turn around and start putting away those clothes that don’t need ironing.
Thank God—I’m literally wearing the last clean thing that isn’t a tuxedo or a three-piece suit. I usually prefer sweats when I’m working from home, but it’s been more than a week since I had a clean pair in my closet.
I go to my desk, flipping open my laptop to check my emails. My realtor messaged me this morning to let me know he’d be sending another document for me to review, but I’ve received nothing yet. Maybe I should message?—
“Do your wife and kids only come here in the summer?”
I turn to look at Cassidy, but she still has her back to me. I guess the heat in the room finally soaked through her layers of clothing, because her coat is now hanging from my closet door.
Her uniform is tight, especially around her plump ass. Her panty line is blatant, and I can’t help but wonder what her curvy body would look like without the dress.
When I don’t reply immediately, she glances at me over her shoulder… and catches me staring at her ass.
Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me today? Why do I keep imagining sinking my fingers into her soft, plump flesh hard enough to leave dimples? Or wondering if it’s her hair or her perfume that smells so gloriously sweet and flowery?
Don’t I have an ounce of self-control?
My voice is gruff. “There’s no one else.”
“You’re not married?” She sounds surprised.
An unpleasantly familiar coldness seeps into my stomach and sits there like a chunk of cement. I need to end this line of questioning immediately. She glances back at me curiously, tucking a section of chestnut hair out of her face.
“If you’re done prying into my personal life, I have work to do.” I tell her brusquely. “And so do you.”