Chapter 4
The following Tuesday, I found myself back in that same building across from Central Park. Standing in the lobby clutching my cleaning caddy, my stomach twisted into worried knots.
At least this time, my anxiety wasn’t caused by a (gorgeously) naked client.
It was because I was about to be late.
Well, I wasn’t.
I’d shown up a full ten minutes before the scheduled appointment time, just like always. It was Rose who was late.
I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the woman’s way of protesting Jane substituting me for her usual partner again. At least, that’s what I assumed had happened when I’d received the text early this morning instructing me to report to this address again at ten a.m. sharp.
I couldn’t stand being late. It was a trait I’d developed back in my first year of medical school.
My life might have drastically changed in the last eighteen months, but some lessons stayed true as ever. Back then, I didn’t want to be the last student to walk into class on the day that the professor handed out dissection specimens. Today, I didn’t want to face the consequences of ringing a dangerous criminal’s doorbell fifteen minutes late.
I glanced down at my phone—two minutes to ten.
Screw it. Rose was on her own. She could come up whenever she arrived.
I headed for the elevator.
The car zipped up the floors, leaving me a full minute to spare as I walked down the hallway and arrived at the door. Still, I found myself hesitating before I pushed the bell.
Part of me had wanted to turn down the job when Jane texted me this morning. I still wasn’t over last week’s humiliation. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the image of the client’s ridiculously hot body out of my head. The idea of spending another couple of hours in his presence, trying to avoid awkward contact, was enough to make me break out in a nervous sweat.
But the horrible truth was I couldn’t afford to prioritize my own comfort.
Not only had the man’s unexpected tip allowed me to scrape by last week, but I’d also been able to double the amount I squirreled away in savings under my mattress. My conscience wouldn’t allow me to say no to another week like that. Not even if it came with the price of swallowing my pride.
I drew in one last deep breath and pressed the doorbell. The door opened a moment later.
“Mary.”
Oh, God help me. His voice was just as deep and rumbly as I remembered it.
I fought against the urge to look up as the client stepped back to let me pass. I refused to let this week turn into the same shitshow last Tuesday had. This time, I was determined to be the model of professionalism.
“I apologize for arriving alone, sir,” I said, already making my way through his stainless steel and leather living room toward the kitchen. “Something important must have delayed Rose.”
I caught his shadow out of the corner of my eye, leaning against the arched entryway into the kitchen. Turning my back on him and getting to work took more resolve than I’d imagined, but I forced myself to grab a bottle of surface cleaner and started spraying down the stovetop.
“Rose isn’t coming.”
I froze for a moment before catching myself.
“No?” I asked before reaching for a sponge and scrubbing the non-existent stains.
“No.”
It should have ended there…and with any other client, it would have.
Rose’s employment was none of my business. I was here to do a job and nothing else. Besides, I was already pushing the limits of the no-talking rule as it was.
But for some reason, I couldn’t seem to swallow down my curiosity. So, not to seem too nosey, I slowly counted backward from five in my mind before asking, “Why not?”
When no answer came, I figured I’d simply waited too long to ask. It was arrogant to assume the client had nothing better to do but stand around and gossip with the help. He’d probably quietly stepped away the first chance he got.
Just to make sure, though, I peeked over my shoulder.
Shit.
He was still there, standing just inside the entryway, his face as perfect and ruggedly handsome as I remembered.
Though, to be honest, I’d been doing a hell of a lot more than simply remembering him this last week. I’d been fantasizing about him every night since the day I left, imagining those perfect lips on mine, those strong hands roaming over my skin, that powerful naked body of his propped up over mine.
Heat rushed to my face, and I spun back around before it had a chance to show. Overcompensating for the mistake, I scrubbed even harder at the already sparkling stovetop.
“I asked Jane not to send her.” His voice was closer now. Even though I hadn’t heard his footsteps, it sounded like he was right behind me.
A wave of goosebumps spread up the back of my neck, and I couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder one more time.
Again, I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved to see that, while he was indeed closer, he wasn’t directly behind me. The center island counter was still between us.
“Then who is going to be my partner today?” I asked.
“No partner,” he answered. “Just you.”
The goosebumps multiplied, spreading all the way down my arms, right down to my fingertips. For a second, I stopped scrubbing…and not just because that deep voice of his was so damn sexy.
“Um…that might be a problem, sir.”
“Don’t try to tell me you can’t work alone,” he said. “I’ve already spoken with Jane, and I know that’s not one of her rules.”
“It’s not that, sir.”
“Then turn around and tell me what it is.”
I let go of the sponge and turned around, keeping my chin tucked tightly against my chest and my eyes firmly focused on the stone tile beneath my feet.
“It’s—“
“Look at me, Mary.”
Shit. Not again.
Even though Jane’s rules could be a pain in the ass sometimes, I suddenly appreciated how much easier they made these kinds of interactions. Work was so much simpler without talking, or eye contact, or messy social contact.
I could have argued, but somehow, I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Besides, there was no use pretending it wasn’t what I wanted anyway.
I lifted my face, and the moment my gaze met his jewel-blue eyes, my heart started pounding.
At least he had clothes on this time—a form-fitting black T-shirt and dark blue jeans. That should have made it easier to look him in the eye, but damn, if the man wasn’t just as sexy dressed as he was naked.
“Good,” he said after a beat had passed. “Now tell me the problem.”
“This apartment has to be at least three thousand square feet.”
“Three thousand, two hundred and forty-five,” he answered without hesitation. “How is that an issue?”
I shook my head. “I can’t possibly clean that much real estate in just two hours, sir.”
“Then take all the time you need,” he said. “I have no appointments until this evening.”
“But I do,” I countered. “You aren’t my only client. I have three more scheduled after you, back to back.”
“I see.” His expression didn’t change as he gave a sharp nod, so it was impossible to tell exactly what those two little words were meant to express. Frustration? Understanding? Defeat? “Give me a moment.”
I couldn’t do anything but blink as he turned and walked out of the kitchen. But working alone, I couldn’t afford to waste time staring after him. So I picked up the sponge and got back to work.
A few minutes later, I’d finished with the stove and back counter and was starting on the island when I spotted the client coming back toward the kitchen. I quickly dipped my head down again.
“All taken care of,” he said, his big hands propping up on the counter and forcing me to stop mid-swipe. “Your schedule for the rest of the day is cleared.”
“What?” Before I could think better of it, my head snapped up, my eyes so wide I was almost afraid they would pop out of my head. “What did you do?”
It had to be shock. Nothing else could explain why I’d be reckless enough to talk to a client so bluntly.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem the least bit phased. His expression remained as stoic as ever. “I called Jane and explained that, from this point on, I would be claiming all of your available time on Tuesdays.”
My mouth fell open. “You can’t do that.”
“I already did,” he said simply. “Starting today, Jane will send substitutes to your former clients. I will cover the cost of your lost wages, and you’ll no longer have to worry about time constraints. All problems solved.”
The hell they were.
“Oh God,” I muttered, my stomach plummeting all the way down the floor. “Jane’s going to fire me.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s going to think I’m… that we…” Red-hot shame stopped me short. Surely, he could put the pieces of the puzzle together for himself, but his flat, silent stare gave nothing away. “…that you’re paying me for sex.”
I whispered the last word, almost afraid that saying it any louder might make it true.
The client, though, didn’t appear the least bit phased. “I take it that’s another one of Jane’s rules.”
“A big one—absolutely no physical contact,” I informed him before mustering up all of my courage. “And just to be clear, that’s not something that I’m interested in.”
“Physical contact?”
Damn, did his voice have to be so rumbly that it shook straight through me?
“Sex work,” I clarified. “So if that’s what you’re hoping for, you’ll need to contact a different kind of service.”
“I’m not looking for a whore.”
“Good. Can you make sure my boss knows that?”
“No need. Jane isn’t going to fire you.” He sounded confident. “She knows better than to risk upsetting me like that.”
Well, that sounded…intense.
What kind of mess had I stumbled into this time? It wasn’t like my other Tuesday clients were Boy Scouts. No doubt they were dangerous criminals as well, but all it took was one phone call from this man, and Jane had been willing to risk upsetting them.
Who the hell was this guy?
No—nevermind. The more we talked, the more I really didn’t want to know.
All I wanted to do was finish the job, go home, and not think about what happened here for another week.
Good luck with that, the little voice in my head said.
“Then I…I should get back to work,” I said, dipping my head down.
“Stop,” he said before my gaze returned to the floor, his tone firm but not angry. Still, the force of his voice startled me so much that I snapped my face back up again. “I understand Jane is your boss, but this is my house, and here you follow my rules.”
“What rules are those?” I asked, already bracing myself for the worst.
“I don’t want to feel like there’s a terrified mouse skittering around, so keep your head up. If you want to look at me, then look at me. If you want to talk, then talk. If you get tired, take a break. Understand?”
My mouth felt dry. My heart was hammering.
What the hell was happening?
“Y-Yeah. I understand.”
“Good,” he said, giving a nod so slight it was barely perceivable. “Then, if you need me, I’ll be in the front room.”
I couldn’t do anything but stare after him as he turned and walked away. I can’t say how long I stood there, slack-jawed and baffled. I only broke free of the shock when the old-fashioned crackle and pop of a vinyl record started playing on the speakers, followed by the opening strains of La Boheme.
A Puccini-loving thug?
Sure. Why not? It wasn’t stranger than anything else that had happened this morning.
I shook my head to clear it before spraying down the island countertop one more time.
Questions and curiosity were what got people like me in trouble in moments like this…and God knew I’d already had enough trouble to last a lifetime.
Besides, I had work to do.