To Whom it May Concern

by J. S. Cooper

  “You’ll be making it. You’ll go to the Farmers Market in the village every Wednesday and Sunday to get the ingredients. I will join you on Sundays.”

  “Why don’t I go on Wednesday and you go on Sundays? Why do I have to go both days?”

  “You’ll create menus for the week by Monday so that I can approve them. And you’ll do the shopping for them on the same days you go to the market.” He ignored my question and I held in a rude comment. “Understand?”

  I stared back at him, not saying anything. If he could ignore my questions, I could certainly ignore his questions.

  “I said, understand?”

  “And I said, why do we both—”

  “I’m the boss here, Savannah. You speak when you’re spoken to and you answer my questions, not the other way around. You don’t get to make the rules.”

  “Excuse me, who the hell do you think you are, my dad?” My voice rose. “I am your employee, not your slave. I can speak whenever the hell I like and I can ask whatever questions I want. You’re not some dictator in some small country who can force me to act a certain way.”

  “I don’t think anyone could force you to do anything.” He turned around. “Where are your bags? Let’s take them to your room.”

  “So you’re just not going to answer my questions?” I ran after him. “Really?” I reached out and touched his arm, and a sudden jolt of electricity shocked me. He stopped walking and turned to me, a sudden light in his eyes that hadn’t existed before.

  “If you wanted to touch me, you just had to ask.”

  “I didn’t want to touch you, I was just ...” My voice trailed off as my face heated. Fuck it, fuck it, why was he looking at me like that? Like he could see into my mind and soul. Like he knew that my fingers were still tingling from the brief feel of his warm, silky skin and the taut muscles beneath. I wondered just how strong he was … and what he could do with me if he had me in the bedroom.

  Get your mind out of the gutter, Savannah!

  Oh god, why was I thinking about him in the bedroom? My eyes flew to his chest and his nipples. My throat felt dry as my eyes continued downward. His stomach was tight and ripped, and yet my eyes kept going. Before I’d been too fired up to notice that he was wearing a speedo. A very tight speedo. Oh shit! I swallowed hard as my eyes rested on his manhood. Was he hard or soft right now? He was huge. If he was hard, why was he hard and if he was soft, how much bigger would he be when he was hard?

  While I wasn’t that experienced, I had seen a cock before, and it hadn’t inspired much interest or desire. But now, standing next to this gorgeous, infuriating man, I was curious. What would he look like completely naked?

  “Like what you see?” he said quietly.

  My eyes flew back to his face. Oh shit, had he caught me checking out his package?

  “I haven’t seen my room yet, so I don’t know if I will like it.” I coughed and then hurried past him to the foyer, so that I could grab my suitcase. What the hell was I thinking, checking him out like that? Right in front of him? Had I lost my mind?

  “I’ll get that for you.” He brushed past me and grabbed the handle of my suitcase.

  “I’m surprised you don’t want me to carry it myself.”

  “I’m the consummate gentleman, Savannah. You may not realize that yet, but truly, you won’t find a better guy than me.” He said the words so seriously that I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. I was laughing so hard that tears were falling out of my eyes. “What’s so funny?” He looked amused as he watched me.

  “The fact that you think you’re a gentleman? On what planet?” I giggled as the words tripped out. “You’re the furthest thing from a gentleman that I’ve ever seen!”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” I nodded, catching my breath as we continued walking.

  “I suppose your boyfriend is a real gentleman, huh?” He studied my face, and I knew that was his way of asking if I was dating someone. Not that I was going to tell him.

  “Yes, yes, he is.”

  “He’s so caring that he let you just take this job in the country with a handsome older man.”

  “He didn’t let me do anything. I do what I want.”

  “A regular twenty-first century woman, aren’t you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m sure your girlfriend loves how rude you are.”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.” He stopped outside of a door and pushed it open. “I’m single, free, and unattached.”

  “She dumped you, huh?” I murmured as we walked into the room, then I gasped at the beauty before me, forgetting about our little spat. The room was larger than my entire apartment in New York City. Immediately in front of me was a sitting area, with a comfortable couch, table and TV; to the right of the room was a four-poster king-size bed with huge, fluffy pillows. To the left of the bed there was a door, and I walked through it into an enormous en suite, which had a walk-in shower, a huge clawfoot tub, and a wide full-length mirror. I walked back out of the bathroom and saw that Wade was standing next to the bed, my case on the floor next to him.

  “Does it please your ladyship?” He bowed his head. “If you don’t like it, then there are four other suites for you to choose from.”

  “I love it,” I said breathlessly. “It’s amazing.” I forgot that I was mad at him. Forgot that he was an annoying asshole. I looked into his face with a bright smile. “It’s really lovely, and that smell! It smells like fresh flowers.”

  “That’s because they are.” He nodded to a chest of drawers on the other side of the room. On top of the chest sat a tall vase full of pink, purple, yellow and white flowers. “I picked them for you this morning. I wanted to make the room welcoming.”

  “Really?” I was taken aback by the kind gesture. “Thank you.”

  “Yes. And I will give you a ten-thousand-dollar budget to change anything in the room that you want.”

  “No way, wow!”

  “I want this to feel like your home. Is there anything that you can think of that you want?”

  “Maybe a writing desk?”

  “You’re a writer?”

  “Well, not really. I’ve never had anything published or anything.”

  “But you write?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you write?” He actually looked interested in what I had to say, and I felt myself warming to him. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. Maybe he just had an off-putting exterior. For all I knew, he didn’t realize just how he was coming off.

  “Poetry.”

  “Poetry, eh?” He nodded. “Epic stuff?”

  “Not really. More short and punchy verses. I like to participate in poetry slams.”

  He winced. “Oh, not that airy-fairy stuff?”

  “What’s airy-fairy about poetry slams?” I glared at him, my back stiffening again. Maybe I hadn’t been wrong about him after all.

  “Are your poems about your emotions and feelings or more epic tales?”

  “Is there anything wrong with poems about emotions?”

  “Nothing at all.” He shook his head. “Maybe we can go into town later this afternoon to look for a writing desk for you.”

  “We don’t have to do that.” I shook my head. “Save your money. It might not work out.”

  “What might not work out?”

  “This whole situation.” I waved my arms around. “I just don’t know if this is really going to work.”

  “What if I offered you another $50,000 to convince you to stay for a month?” He stared directly into my eyes. “And if in thirty days, you still want to leave, you can keep the entire $150,000 and move on with your life.”

  “That seems crazy.” I shook my head. “I can’t just take your money.”

  “You wouldn’t just be taking my money. You’d be working for me.” He shrugged. “I’d expect you to do all your duties. And you can’t quit.”

  “Hmmm …” I considered my options. How hard could it be?
Thirty days and then I could leave. “I’m not sure.”

  “Are you that afraid of hard work?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then we have a deal?”

  “Fine.” I held my hand out. “We have a deal.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “I had a feeling you’d say yes.” He looked around the room and smiled. “Now, I’m going to go and have a shower. Meet me in the kitchen in fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “What else am I supposed to say?”

  “I thought you’d add a sir or something.” He grinned and then turned around and headed out of the room before I could think of a response. The door slammed behind him.

  I stood there just breathing and taking everything in. It was official, I was crazy. The madhouse could come and pick me up at any time because I had officially lost it. What the hell had I just agreed to? I walked over to the bed, sat down, leaned back into the stack of pillows, and closed my eyes.

  Immediately Wade’s face came to mind, and I allowed myself to envision his dazzling green eyes and charming smile as I lay there. I wondered why he didn’t have a girlfriend, and I wondered if he would ask to meet my imaginary boyfriend. I wasn’t quite sure why I'd lied. Actually, that was untrue; I knew exactly why I’d lied. I could feel a chemistry between Wade and me, and I didn’t want either one of us to act on it. If he thought I had a boyfriend, he wouldn’t try to seduce me or expect that anything would happen with us.

  Not that I thought he would be interested in me. The lie was like an insurance policy. I didn’t want us to have anything other than a professional relationship … although I had to admit we might have already crossed that line.

  Chapter 7

  “I hope you like scrambled eggs and bacon.” A dressed Wade greeted me as I made my way into the kitchen. “Would you like toast or a bagel?”

  “Toast, please.” I headed toward the island. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Grab the bag of bread and put four slices in the toaster.” He gestured to the countertop behind him. “You’ll find the butter and jam in the fridge.”

  “Okay.” I pulled four slices of bread out of the bag and placed them into the stainless-steel toaster. I stared down at it, waiting for the bread to turn from white to a golden brown, instead of turning around to study Wade, which is what I really wanted to do.

  “Do you want any fruit?”

  I jumped at the sound of Wade’s voice in my ear. He’d walked over to me without me even noticing, quiet as a mouse.

  He grinned as if he knew what I was thinking. “I hunt, I’m used to moving without anyone realizing. I take it you don’t like hunting.”

  I frowned. “Are you a mind reader?”

  “No, but your face is very expressive.”

  “I didn’t realize.” I looked down into the toaster, trying to tell what color the bread was. I couldn’t tell, so I pressed the button for the toast to pop up. It was still white and soft, so I pressed the button down again for it to toast some more.

  “Are you scared to look at me?”

  “Of course not,” I replied, but my heart was racing as I looked back up at him. There was a teasing light in his brooding, beautiful eyes, and I wondered what he was thinking.

  "So, it looked like you and Henry got on well?"

  "Yeah, he seemed like a nice guy." I stopped myself from adding unlike you.

  "I bet you wish he was your boss, huh?"

  "Well, I wouldn't say that ..."

  He burst out laughing and I could see his eyes surveying my face. “You wouldn’t say it, but you’re thinking it, huh?”

  I shrugged my response, and he grinned at my lack of reply.

  "You don't look like a girl that would be into standup poetry."

  "First off, I'm not a girl, and secondly, what is a woman who’s a poet supposed to look like?"

  "I thought you'd have on tie-dye T-shirts and black jeans."

  "Are you still in the ‘90s?" I shook my head. "What a stereotype!"

  "So, you studied English? At Columbia?"

  "Yes."

  "Any books you want to recommend?"

  "Not really."

  "I'm trying to get to know you, and you’re making this really hard.”

  “Am I?” I smiled wickedly at him and then blushed. Where the hell had that come from?

  “Yes, yes, you are.” He looked like he wanted to say something else. I could tell from his expression that he was unsure whether I was being deliberately naughty or not and I liked it that way. Let him guess if I was dropping sexual innuendos on his doorstep. He unnerved me, and I didn’t mind thinking I unnerved him slightly as well. Even if it was only in my head. “Well, if you’re finished eating and you don’t want to answer any of my questions, why don’t you wash up these dishes and then meet me in my office in about fifteen minutes and we can start working.”

  “You want me to wash up the dishes?”

  “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Don’t you have a dishwasher?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why do I have to ...” My voice trailed off as he stood up and walked out of the room.

  “Fifteen minutes, Savannah.”

  “Fifteen minutes, Savannah,” I muttered under my breath. “Maybe actually answer a question, asshole.”

  “My name’s Wade, not asshole.” He stopped dead in the hallway and looked back at me. “Unless you know something I don’t know?” He laughed and my face burned as he turned back around. Who was he, Batman? How had he heard me? Was I really that loud?

  I glanced at the dirty dishes on the table and sighed. How was this my life? I didn’t even enjoy doing the dishes at home. I grabbed the plates and headed over to the sink. All I could think about was buying a calendar so I could count down the days until I could leave this job and move on with my life. Once I was debt-free, I’d be able to do whatever I wanted. I would just have to remind myself of that every time Wade said or did something that got on my nerves.

  “Have a seat, Savannah.” Wade waved me into his office as I hovered timidly in the door opening. “I’m on hold on a conference call, but I’ll be off in a few minutes, and then we can get started.”

  “Okay.”

  I walked into his office and looked around quickly before taking a seat in a dark mahogany wooden chair that had been upholstered in a deep red leather. I sat down, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable the chair was. I clutched the pen that was in my hand and clicked it on and scribbled Day One and the date on top of the yellow legal pad that I’d brought with me then sat back. Wade was watching me with an amused expression on his face. “What exactly will I be doing today?” I asked, wanting him to stop looking at me like the cat that had got the cream.

  “Today we’ll be on a call with the heads of a small village in Uganda and some members of their parliament. We’re building some sustainable farms and wells.”

  “The government is building them or you’re building them?”

  “I am building them. Well, providing the resources. Local workers will be trained and will run the farms.” He picked up a pen and scribbled something on a notepad in front of him. “Have you ever been to Uganda?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever been to Africa?”

  “No.” I offered him a rueful smile. “I’ve always wanted to go to Kenya or South Africa to go on a safari. And also to Egypt to see the pyramids.” I shrugged. “One day, when I have some money, I will make it.”

  “Yes, you will.” He nodded. “You will notice that North Africa is very different to sub-Saharan Africa.”

  “Have you been, then?”

  “Yes, I have worked in conjunction with the World Bank and some other organizations, and I’ve traveled quite extensively in the continent.” He nodded. “Today I need you to take notes on the conversation. I take it you know shorthand?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, can
you type fast?” He looked at my lap. “Do you have a laptop?”

  “I didn’t bring it with me.” I bit down on my lower lip. “It’s the same laptop I’ve had since high school, and it’s really slow. I need a new one ... Not that I’m asking you for a new one or anything,” I added on quickly, lest he think that I was begging for something else.

  He chuckled and sat back. “I think I’ve paid you enough to afford a new one, but don’t worry. I have a laptop you can use for work business.”

  “What about non-work business?”

  “You can send personal emails, yes, but I wouldn’t use it to surf porn sites, if I were you. I have access to every website that is visited, and I don’t want to be privy to the fact that my new assistant has a penchant for stepfather porn or threesomes.”

  “What?” My jaw dropped and my face reddened. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m just saying if you visit porn websites to pleasure yourself at night, I will know. And I’m not sure you want me knowing what your sexual fantasies are.”

  “I don’t visit porn websites, Mr. Hart, and I don’t appreciate your comments. In fact, I would go so far as to say that you’ve crossed the line again.”

  “Again?” His lips twisted and I could see his perfect white teeth as he grinned. “Are you saying that I’ve crossed the line more than once?”

  “It’s not appropriate to talk to me about porn websites.”

  “I’m not talking about porn websites. You’re the one that asked me if you could use the laptop for personal reasons.”

  “I meant sending emails and maybe checking my social media accounts. Nothing other than that. I don’t even watch porn.”

  “You don’t watch porn?” He leaned forward. “Really?”

  “Really!” I blushed. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “So, when you masturbate you have images in your mind, then?”

  “Excuse me!” I jumped up. “I’m not having this conversation with you!” I made my way to the door and I could feel my chest rising. “If you think that you can just say whatever you want to me, then I’ll have you know that ––” I stopped talking as Wade jumped up from behind his desk and walked over to me. “What are you doing?” I licked my lips nervously as he stopped right in front of me, his green eyes twinkling.