Chapter 9
London
I think he’s falling for it. Though, honestly, not everything I said was an act. Maybe a genuine fresh start wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Of course, I’ll apologize to Stephanie properly and hope she’s not angry still.
I sneak glances at Alexander every now and then. The fact that he knows about my favorite spot makes me uneasy. I suspect he’ll show up here often now, which means I won’t have my breaks to myself anymore.
We enjoy our meal until it's time to head back to the office. We leave the roof and take the elevator one floor down to the eighth floor.
"By the way, you can move into your office now," I tell him as we step out. "If you need anything, just press one on your phone and you’ll be connected to me. If I don’t answer, after six rings it’ll go to the main switchboard. You can also call my cell anytime."
"Anytime?" he asks with a smug smile.
"Half an hour before work starts and half an hour after it ends. Outside those times, only if it’s an absolute emergency.
" I try to remain calm and polite, even though I suspect he's hinting at something more specific. He’s probably testing if I’m available for…
that kind of thing. Not happening. Especially not with him.
"I’ll keep that in mind," he says, which is a relief.
We reach his new office. Not much has changed, but he seems pleased. Alexander scans the room, checks the desk, then nods.
"Very good. I’ll settle in and reach out if I need something."
I nod politely and start to leave, but he stops me. "Could you bring me a coffee?"
"Of course." The trials of being a young assistant. I’m basically a walking coffee maker.
I stop by my boss’s office first. Ιf he wants one too, I can kill two birds with one stone. I then head to the kitchen. While the machine brews, I get lost in thought as I prepare the cups and wait for the machine to finish brewing.
What can I do to keep this job?
If I apologize sincerely to this Stephanie, and if Alex gives me a fair chance, maybe this will work.
I’ll just grit my teeth and show my best side.
It won't be easy. I just need to make sure I keep my emotions in check and don't act impulsively.
Sometimes my mouth is unfortunately faster than my brain.
I sigh quietly, pour the coffee into cups, and head back.
I serve my boss first, then bring Alexander his. He’s at his desk, working. That’s when I notice a USB drive beside his laptop.
"Here you go," I say, setting the cup down. "Wouldn’t an external hard drive be better? Those little things don’t hold much."
"It’s my lucky charm. I’ve carried it forever." Alexander picks it up and turns it in his hand almost reverently before setting it back down next to the laptop.
Got it. Everyone has their quirks.
He looks at the coffee. "Thank you, London." He smiles, takes the cup, then asks, "Do you actually like your first name?"
"Yes, I do." I don’t want to get into this with him.
"I spoke with Stephanie. She’d like to meet you. How about tomorrow evening? They leave for their honeymoon Wednesday, so it’s perfect timing."
"Yes, that works. Right after work?"
Oh man, I'd rather avoid this meeting altogether. But I have to get through it now. Maybe she's actually nice, and I'll get off with just a black eye.
"Can I give her your number? Then you two can set it up directly."
"Yes, of course." I try to mask how nervous I feel. "Do you need anything else?"
"No, thank you for the coffee." He lifts the cup and takes a sip.
I say goodbye and head back to my desk. There’s still so much to do.
A whole lot.
In the afternoon, I’m so focused on my work that I lose track of time.
It’s only when colleagues start heading out and the office takes on that end-of-day hush that I notice I’m already four minutes past clocking off.
I stand, stretch, and head toward my boss’s office.
Looks like he’s working late today. But when I knock, there’s no answer. So I turn toward Alex’s office instead.
The door is slightly ajar, and that’s when I hear voices—my boss and Alexander talking inside.
“Are you absolutely sure?” my boss asks his son. If Mr. Blackthorn didn't sound so alarmed, I probably would have knocked. But instead, I stand there, trying to breathe as quietly as possible.
“Yes, of course. She already admitted it, apologized, and everything’s fine for now,” Alexander says, reassuring him. My stomach twists. They’re definitely talking about me. Which means now my boss knows. Damn.
“This is outrageous!” my boss snaps. I’ve never seen him this angry. My heart sinks to my knees, and I start trembling.
"You will fire her!" my boss demands. And with that, my heart plummets to the floor.
"I can't do that," Alexander defends me.
"Why not? You can never trust someone like that again!" I'm finished. Done for. That's it. I thought things with Alexander could work out, but if even my own, usually gentle boss is against me, I might as well kiss my job goodbye.
“But she needed it, and she promised to return it to me.”
Wait, what?
I lean closer, as Alexander explains further. That doesn't sound like me at all. What exactly did I need? And what am I supposed to return?
“As if she would have done that. And in her first probationary week, no less,” my boss hisses. “No, trust me, son. You need to fire her. There are plenty of good housekeepers out there. Someone like this needs to be dismissed immediately!”
Housekeeper?
“She does excellent work otherwise. I trust her.”
“And she’s abused that trust. How much are you even paying her monthly?”
“She gets two thousand pounds. She only comes to my place twice a week, about four hours each time.”
Wow, that's what I call good pay.
“So, eight hours a week?”
I quickly do the math. Whoa! She earns more than I do. That's an impressive sixty-two and a half pounds per hour.
“Yes,” Alexander confirms.
"I don't even pay London that much, honestly. What on earth made you decide to give her such a high wage?"
Yes, I'd like to know that too, and where I can apply. That would be a great supplementary income.
“She has a young son and a sick sister,” Alexander replies.
“Yes, they always do. And then she steals cash from you?”
“She desperately needed it and didn’t dare ask me for an advance,” Alexander says, sounding annoyed.
“It’s your house, your decision,” my boss sighs. “But I’m telling you: This woman will cause trouble. Big trouble.”
I hear footsteps moving toward the door, so I back away quickly and step into the hall, pretending I just arrived as my boss opens it.
“Oh! Mr. Blackthorn, there you are. I’ve been looking for you. Is there anything else I can do before I go?” I act sweet and innocent while scraping my heart off the floor and stuffing it back into my chest.
“Ah, Miss Waverley. I’m glad to see you.” He seems relieved and pats my shoulder. “I can always count on you.” He shakes his head. “No, I’ve got everything, thank you. Finish up for the day. Today was a long one."
"Very well, Mr. Blackthorn. I’ll check if your son needs anything, and then I’ll head home.”
“Excellent. See you tomorrow.”
He walks down the hallway back to his office, allowing me to catch my breath before going to Alexander. I close the door behind me, though.
“I was just about to wrap up. Do you need anything before I go?”
Alexander is leaning against his desk, long legs stretched out. He sets aside a glass of mineral water. He could’ve called me for that, couldn’t he? Or maybe sometimes he likes going to the kitchen himself. I’ll have to figure that out.
“You were eavesdropping.” He says it matter-of-factly, not angry, not even surprised. I draw a breath, ready to deny it, but then he smirks. “Your shadow was visible on the door.”
Well, no point lying.
“So… your housekeeper stole from you?” I ask carefully.
“So you were eavesdropping.” He laughs. “I thought maybe I’d imagined it.”
Damn. Next time I should at least feign innocence.
He looks amused. “How much did you hear?”
“That she earns more than I do and still helped herself anyway,” I admit through clenched teeth.
Alexander smiles. “Her story touched me. I wanted her to earn well and still have time to care for her son and her sick sister.”
“How much did she steal?” I press.
“Twenty thousand pounds.”
My eyes go wide.
“I kept it in a box. She found it while cleaning and took it. I had planned to use that cash, and when I checked, it was gone. I confronted her, and she confessed immediately.”
“Well, denying it would’ve been pointless. Unless other people come and go in your house…” I let the question hang, fishing for more. A relationship, maybe?
“She was the only one. But she promised to pay me back—either through a loan or monthly installments.” He doesn’t sound convinced.
"Do you believe her?"
He looks at me and says: "If I'm being honest: I think she's long gone."
"Do you have her number?"
“Yes, but she hasn’t answered since yesterday.
Still, I want to trust she’ll be back by this weekend.
” He pulls out his phone and types on it briefly before reading aloud.
Then he reads a message aloud: ‘You can pay it off in small installments, every month. And if one month doesn’t work out, then the next. We’ll figure it out—don’t worry.’
"Hmm..."
I wouldn’t have pegged him as so lenient. That makes me uncertain. Could this guy actually be one of the good ones?
"My father calls me naive, and if I told Marc or my other friends, they’d call me crazy. Maybe I am. But I wanted to give her a chance. My father was always very strict with the staff. My mother too. Once..." He studies me, then adds: "You’re off the clock."
"I’m also a good listener." I walk toward him slowly and notice he doesn’t have much water left in his glass. I open the mini fridge, grab the bottle, and refill it.
"Thank you. So..." He ponders briefly, then continues: "We had a maid who was fired on the spot when my mother found out she had stolen from the cash box."
"How much?" I ask as I put the bottle away.
"Just a few hundred pounds. I liked her. Elaine to me was like a big sister. I must’ve been ten or eleven, she was in her early twenties.
She needed the job. Her mother was sick, her father had died, and she was the family’s only breadwinner.
Debts piled up. She even skimped on food.
When my mother threw her out, I tracked her down and gave her all the money I’d saved. "
"So that’s why you trust your housekeeper?"
"Yes. Because not every person is evil. Everyone has their story. Who knows what happened that she couldn’t resist when she found the money? Maybe she also has debts or something urgent to fix." He looks thoughtful.
"How did you find her to hire?"
"In the newspaper. Very traditional. She made a good impression, so I hired her right away. My house is big—I figured a woman’s touch couldn’t hurt. She was just supposed to dust and clean the floors and windows. Not much. I can take care of the rest myself."
"I hope she shows up at your place on Saturday," I say, giving him a small smile.
"Has Stephanie contacted you yet?" he asks, changing the subject.
"Honestly, I haven’t checked. My phone’s been in my bag all day. If she has, I’ll call her as soon as I get home."
Alexander raises his glass to me. "Stephanie’s my best friend. I’ve known her forever. She has a good heart. If you don't threaten to make her life a living hell, you definitely have a chance." He's probably going to hold that against me forever.
"Thanks for the tip," I mumble, embarrassed, then leave his office. As I go, I see him finish his glass and circle around his desk.
Phew. What a day. What an incredible situation. I honestly thought he’d fire his housekeeper on the spot or call the police. But this man actually has a good core. I wonder what else I’ll discover about him.
Back at my desk, I close all my applications, shut down the computer, and take my empty teacup to the kitchen. Only then do I check my phone. Vanessa has sent me dozens of messages, but I’ll deal with those later because a new number has popped up.
Nervously, I tap the chat.
Stephanie: : Hey, it's me. The bride who almost didn't get married. Alexander gave me your number. If you have time tomorrow after work, I'd really appreciate it if we could meet. Preferably at your place. I'd rather not discuss certain things in public, and Marc is here all the time.
Me: Hey. I'm really glad you want to talk to me.
I want to apologize in advance and explain to you tomorrow, calmly, how this terrible mix-up happened.
I'll happily send you my address. I probably won't be home until around 5:30 PM today, and maybe tomorrow too.
So if you'd like to come around 6, I'll definitely have time for you.
Is there anything special you'd like to drink or eat?
Tea? Coffee? Cookies? Let me know so I can pick up a few things.
I grab my bag and type the last words while walking, then send the message and head to the elevator. Okay, let’s see—what else do I need to do today? Shopping would be good. And go to the gym later. I really need to work out hard and get my butt in gear.
Downstairs, I say goodbye to security and head to my car.
Of course, I notice the looks from others.
I was never popular, but once you start paying attention, the staring is uncomfortable.
I don’t even want to know how bad my reputation is.
Being a woman in such a high position isn’t easy, and my female colleagues especially seem to need someone to hate.
They probably bet on whether I’m sleeping with my boss—and now surely assume I’m going after Alexander too.
Ridiculous. They should get to know Mr. Blackthorn better. He’s such a wonderful person. Well, except when it comes to theft. Or tardiness. Okay, fine—he does have his quirks, but he's an old-school gentleman. If you behave properly, he has no reason to get upset.
I slip into my car, kick off my high heels, and massage my feet before pulling on my comfy sneakers.
I’ll change clothes as soon as I get home then head straight to the gym.
I want to hit the treadmill, do some time on the ergometer, and strength training.
The more muscles, the more I burn—which means I can eat more. And I love food.
If Stephanie replies soon, I’ll shop beforehand, so I don’t have to do it tomorrow after work.
Well, let's go. Home it is.