3. Harlow
For the rest of the evening, I go a little crazy.
I’ve never experienced anyplace like this mansion — I mean, I grew up without a dollar to my family’s name, after all — and it’s like Disneyland in here. When I have dinner, it’s extravagant and so very delicious. Chef LeFevre, a stocky, energetic man with a big smile, even waits on me himself in the empty dining room, serving me Shrimp Cocktail to start, Caesar Roma Salad, then Wild Blackened Scallops with some fancy Truffle French Fries and Roasted Brussel Sprouts. I revel in the wine as well as the Chocolate Mousse for dessert. Of course, I eat alone at the long dining table, but truthfully, I enjoy my own company way more than having the demon master of the house here with me.
But I would love to get to know Chef and the other staff who’ve clearly been instructed to keep their conversations with me to a minimum.
Afterward, in my quest to stay as far away from Grayson as possible, I wander around the west wing. Chef LeFevre told me that Mr. Royal usually sticks to his side of the mansion, so I take my time poring over the first editions and fancy books in his study. Then I dabble on the baby grand piano, even though I don’t play it. But when will I ever get to touch a piece of art like this ever again? I finally go to the game room to play some vintage Ms. Pac-Man, and it’s almost enough to make me forget the reason I’m here.
Almost.
Eventually, I start thinking about my mom in jail again, and that puts a damper on the fun.
Somehow I manage to compartmentalize those thoughts, but just the same, sleep still doesn’t come easy tonight.
Now that everything is quiet, I’m thinking about Grayson.
The guy I’ve been hired to adore.
I run my fingers over my body, and even if I’m wearing one of my totally unsexy nightgowns, my breathing quickens as I imagine him slipping into this big, luxurious bed next to me, never saying a word. I bite my lip as I fantasize about him inching his fingers into the front of my panties and parting my lips, rubbing me, getting me wet and pounding and so hot that I have to stifle a long, yearning moan into my pillow.
Then I finally fall asleep, and when I awaken the next morning, I try to forget that fantasy. I’m served breakfast in bed, and it’s just as scrumptious as dinner was — Banana and Nutella Crepe with freshly squeezed orange juice, fresh fruit, and a buttery croissant. It’s only after I shower with the decadent bath products that I find in the huge marble restroom and get dressed that I hear a very purposeful knock at my door.
My heart jackhammers, and something naughty gives a great big tug in my gut. I think about how I got so hot and bothered last night while fantasizing about the jerk, and I flush like crazy.
But I know Grayson won’t want to be kept waiting, so I go to the door and open it, holding my breath and preparing myself for the sight of him. And there he is, the prick of my dreams, glowering down at me with that dark, fathomless gaze.
I go even hotter while trying not to remember last night.
“I trust you slept well?” he asks.
Any minute now I’m going to remember that I do not like this man, even though I need to live with him and pretend that I do adore him for the duration of this month. “I slept very well, thank you.”
“Good.”
He steps aside to reveal that someone else is with him — a tall, middle-aged woman with black-framed glasses, smartly bobbed red hair, and a killer white suit that fits her like a glove. She smiles at me.
Grayson looks just as bored as usual. “Miss Turner, meet your personal assistant, Jayne Portman.”
Jayne marches right past him and into the room, looking me up and down just as thoroughly as Grayson himself did yesterday. But there’s nothing dismissive about her gaze. “Well, aren’t you just a little doll all ready for me to dress right up?”
Like the stone statue that he is, Grayson doesn’t even crack a smile as he imperiously speaks to me. “I have informed Jayne that she needs to dress you in less revealing clothes. She will be taking you shopping for a new, very conservative wardrobe.”
“Less revealing?” I wasn’t aware that I was dressed up like a tart when I met him yesterday. Yes, my top was crocheted, but I was wearing a camisole underneath it. And, yes, I did flash my shoulder to him when my duffel strap slipped, but that was an accident. And certainly he can’t be talking about this breezy spring dress that I pulled out of my duffel bag to wear this morning.
All right, maybe the dress is a little thin because I’ve been wearing it for years, but it’s certainly not revealing.
“That is what I said,” Grayson says. “Less. Revealing.” He’s speaking to me as if I’m just learning English. “Since I am expected to be seen around town with a very demure woman of taste, you will be dressed accordingly.”
Jayne must see the steam coming out of my ears, because she steps between us. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Royal. I’ll take Eliza Doolittle here and make her into an even fairer lady than you see before you now.” She winks at me. “There shouldn’t be much work involved at all!”
He gives me one of those slow looks that almost feels like what my friends at school call a “proper eye fucking.” But I doubt he’s doing something that would require him to appreciate me in any way. Even so, I can’t help the shiver that travels my skin, making me hot and cold at the same time. Then he blankly nods at Jayne, who gives him a perky smile and a little wave.
“Have a great day at work,” she says. “I’ve got this firmly in hand!”
And with that, the jerk is gone. I give Jayne the side eye, gauging her reaction to Grayson, wondering if she’s maybe secretly in love with him like half the clueless female world seems to be. If only they really got to know him!
But Jayne doesn’t seem to be mooning over his departure. She rests her hands on my shoulders, all of her attention on me.
“Grayson Royal might seem like a big old meanie,” she says, “but he isn’t all that bad, so wipe that frown from your pretty face.”
“Sorry.” I didn’t mean to be obvious about what a jerk he is, but Jayne doesn’t seem to mind. Phew. “How long have you worked for him?”
“Years. I’m his longest lasting female relationship.”
Something oddly territorial races through me. Was I wrong about Jayne’s place in the household?
She laughs, and it’s a slightly unhinged, carefree sound that comes from deep inside of her. She makes me laugh too.
“If you’re thinking that Mr. Royal and I have any kind of relationship but a professional one, bitch slap that thought aside right now, honey. I’m very happily married, and even if I weren’t, Mr. Royal wouldn’t be my cup of lust. He’s as handsome as the devil himself, but I’ve been in love with my hubby since college. I only have eyes for my woobie.”
I laugh again because the last thing I expected was to meet someone in this house who talks like Jayne.
She grins at me and adjusts her glasses. “See? We’re already getting along just like old friends.” Her expression softens ever so slightly. “And, as your old friend, I’m going to be honest right up front with you, Harlow. I know all about why you’re here.”
Oh, God. Of course she read my dossier.
“Honey,” she says, “there’s no shame in your situation. You’ve been drowning for at least the last few months, hell, maybe even for the last ten or fifteen years of your young life. I know that you’re here as a mail-order bride because you want to take care of your two younger sisters and your younger brother. I even know that you arranged for a neighbor to take care of them while you’re here for a month. You’re determined to make everything right for them and your mother.”
My throat tightens, and I look down at the designer carpet. I love my family more than anything. We’re a tight-knit clan, and we’ve suffered together throughout the years, and not just because we’re as poor as church mice.
And that’s nothing compared to the abuse we faced at the hands of our cruel father.
Jayne slips her finger underneath my chin and raises my gaze to hers. “I want you to know that you can tell me anything, Harlow.” Jayne swallows, as if she feels my pain. “And if you want to talk about that one night when your mother knew she had to do something to permanently stop his cruelty, I’m here.” She smiles gently. “I’m here for anything.”
I can only nod.
I haven’t talked to anyone about all this stuff except for the mail-order bride website, and that’s only because I had to. I doubt Jayne really wants to hear the details of how the last time Mom tried to escape my father, he put her in the hospital and told her if there was ever a next time, she would end up in the morgue.
And I can’t blame mom for deciding that there wouldn’t be a next time.
I can’t even talk to anyone else about how Mom used a damned hammer to kill my dad in his drunken sleep and then called the police and turned herself in. Ever since then, she’s been in jail, and the bail for her release was set at $100,000 — an absurd amount. Mom had only a public defender, but she really needs a more experienced lawyer now.
Every day I’ve cursed myself for letting this happen. I’d been away at college, trying to better my life so I could better my entire family’s life. I had grand plans of escaping with them from the house one day. But then word came down about the killing and, in one fell swoop, my father was dead and my mother was taken away. Since the kids needed me, I returned back home to work and care for them, but things only got worse. The need to pay for a lawyer and find the money to free Mom haunted me, and that meant somehow making way more money than I’d ever imagined in my wildest dreams.
And that’s when I found the mail-order bride website. Men have always been the last thing on my mind, especially when most of my experience with them came through dealing with my maniacal father. But then I saw how much money I could earn.
So I did it. I sold myself on that website, choosing who I wanted to work with, monitoring the bidding war, and ending up here.
I think Jayne can see all the worry and gloom in my gaze, because she smiles again at me. “You have questions.”
“Yes. I don’t understand why Dr. Vangelis chose me from that site. He obviously knows about my mom’s situation.”
“And he thought you were still perfect for this job. You’ve got a heart the size of the sun, Harlow — you’ve shown that with your charity work. And as far as connecting you with your mother goes, Rick Vangelis has a PR team at his disposal, and they’re damned good. Also, you don’t have your mom’s last name, so—”
“That will help?”
“Yes, that will help.” Jayne links her arm with one of mine and starts pulling me out of the room. “Let’s go brighten your life, sunshine.”
“How?”
She laughs that slightly unhinged laugh again. “By Shopping with a capital S, my dear, and we are going to slay Grayson Royal’s credit card in the process!”
* * *
And,hours later, after we return to the mansion, Jayne has made good on her promise. I’m floored by how freely she used that credit card as I gape at all of our purchases spread out on my bed.
So this is what it feels like to be giddy!
“Go ahead,” Jayne says as she stands by my side, rubbing her hands together. “Dive in to this beautiful mess!”
I give her an unsure look.
“Go!”
Like an utter fool, I squee and then jump into the midst of all the silk and satin and lace that make up the lingerie section. We bought a load of conservative suits and gowns that will be delivered soon, but Jayne decided to throw in this sexy stuff just for giggles, even though I told her there would be no sex with the jerk.
But you know what? I’m glad she insisted. As I roll through the smooth material, it glides against my skin, and I’ve never felt so free. We both laugh like loons.
Then Jayne shoos me out of the room, telling me to take advantage of the mansion while Grayson is still in the city at his office.
“From what you told me while we were shopping,” she says, “you seem to have a thing for that game room, so have at it. Frankly, I have no idea why it even exists since I suspect that Mr. Royal wouldn’t understand ‘fun’ if it bit him in the ass.”
“Then why does he have a collection of games?”
“Because he can.” Jayne shrugs. “When you’re as rich as he is, you can afford to collect anything.”
I guess she’s right, and I hurry down the stairs to play Ms. Pac-Man, just to see if I can beat my own score from last evening. So far, my scores are the only ones that pop up on the screen after each game, so I think I’m the first person to even be in that room. It almost makes me sad because all those games need someone play them. Why not me?
I’m halfway down the stairs when my phone rings with a generic tone, but when I look at the screen, I see the words MOM’S VERY TEMPORARY PLACE.
It’s the jail where they’re keeping my mother.
I answer right away, and an operator asks me if I’ll accept a collect call. Of course I accept, and when Mom comes on the line, I blurt, “Mama!”
“Honey! How’re you doing?”
I want to tell her that I’m working on her bail money, but I’m still not sure things are going to work out with Grayson, so I keep the news to myself. “I’m fine. How’re you doing?”
“I’m trying hard to stay strong, but the time away from you kids and the uncertainty of what’s going to happen to me is rough, honey.”
The coming trial has to be breaking her spirits too, and, once again, I’m tempted to tell her that I’m taking care of everything.
It’s all I can do to stay strong, just like Mom is doing. “Mama, listen to me. I will get you the bail money, and we’re going to prevail in court with a great lawyer.”
“Sweetheart...”
“Just trust me. Believe in me.”
A long pause makes tears well up in my chest. My mom is such a hero, and I wish she understood just how grateful my sisters and brother and I are for what she did. She doesn’t belong in prison. She did the world a favor when she got rid of that monster.
“I believe you,” Mom says. “Actually, in this place, faith is all I have left.”
And that’s exactly why I’m going to succeed in this job with Grayson Royal — even if I have to swallow my pride and humble myself every day to please him.