by S. M. Shade
“I see. Well, the position is still open. Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk about it?” He gives me a smile I’m sure usually gets him his way.
“Uh…no thanks. I’m going to go.”
“The starting rate is twelve dollars per hour,” he states as I reach for the door. My shoulders slump. I only made eight-fifty at the hotel and I’ll be lucky to make that anywhere else. Twelve dollars would really help Ethan and me out of the hole.
Steeling myself, I turn to face him. We need to get one thing straight. “I won’t fuck you or provide any sexual favors. I’m not a whore.”
His smile stretches. “Are you willing to clean, organize, wash laundry, and run errands?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me show you around.” He certainly needs someone to clean.
Expensive antique furniture fills most of the rooms, but it’s thick with dust, and cobwebs crawl up most of the walls. The library is a jumbled mess of books, piled on the shelves and spilling onto the floor. His kitchen is a little better, but still needs a good scrubbing.
As he takes me through the house, he explains, “My uncle lived here alone until he died a few months ago, leaving the house and its contents to me. I need someone to help get it in order and then to do general housework in the evenings. Do you have any issue with working late? Kids at home?”
“No, no issues.” My personal life is none of his business. “I can work late.”
“Good.” He grins. “I like to sleep late, so I don’t want anyone banging around in the mornings.”
“I’m a night owl. I have afternoon classes so evenings work well for me.” Am I really trying to talk him into giving me this job? After the dirty stuff he said, and kissing him, it’s probably a terrible idea. But twelve bucks an hour. I’d have no problem fixing my car, paying my rent and bills, and even have a bit left over. Maybe I could afford to add Ethan to my car insurance, so he could get his license.
He leads me into a room obviously decorated by a man. “This is my office. You won’t clean in here.”
“Office?” I snort, and he smiles. There’s a desk and computer against one wall, but the rest of the room screams man cave. A huge flat screen hangs on the wall opposite a long black sectional couch. Video games and DVD’s are piled high on shelves lining a third wall. A mini fridge boasts rows of soft drinks when he opens it to offer me one.
“Dr. Pepper, please.” I accept the cold drink and thank him.
“My favorite,” he replies, throwing me a charming smile. “So, when can you start?”
Shit. Decision time. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, after the bar?”
“Look, why don’t we just start over? I promise I’ll treat you like an employee, not someone I kissed and propositioned.” Amusement flashes through his blue-green eyes and he extends his hand. “Hi, I’m Landon Clark.”
“Zoe Page,” I reply with a giggle.
“So, when can you start, Ms. Page?”
“How is tomorrow?”
“Four p.m. to midnight?”
“I’ll be here.”
I argue with myself the rest of the day over whether I’m making a huge mistake by working for Landon. Ethan is thrilled with my job change since it means we’ll have more money. He works a few evenings a week stocking shelves at the grocery store across the street for spending money, but I don’t let him contribute to the bills. He has the rest of his life to pay bills and stress over money. I want him to have fun and go out with his friends.
When I wake the next day, I call a local car repair service and arrange to have my sedan towed to their garage. It will be such a relief to have it back. The wrecker shows up just in time, and I hand over my keys before rushing off to catch the bus to class. Cabs are expensive, so I ride the bus whenever I can.
Students filter slowly into my anatomy class, most looking bored or glum. Not to sound like a total nerd, but my science classes are the highlight of my week. I adore science and plan to teach biology until I can reach my ultimate goal. An evolutionary biologist.
Ethan shares my interest in science, but his real love is history. I think we’re so eager to learn because of the way we were raised. Homeschooled by strict evangelical parents, we were taught the only truth comes from the bible. Our exposure to science was very limited, and history was mostly a mix of biblical and military history.
The first few years on my own were tough, living in a homeless shelter, then a studio apartment, surviving on peanut butter, and I escaped my worries by reading everything I could get my hands on. It was like discovering a new world that already existed all around me. A book on the evolution of the peppered moth introduced me to the subject I want to build a career around.
Time flies by as it always does when I’m in school, and before I know it, I’m on the bus home again. I have just enough time to put together a lasagna for Ethan’s dinner and make a sandwich to take to work with me.
After leaving Ethan a reminder on how long to heat the lasagna, I run out to meet my cab. The bus doesn’t let off near Landon’s house, and I don’t want to be late on my first day, so I figure it’s worth the expense. A few more days and I’ll have my car back.
Landon opens the door with a smile. “Ms. Page, right on time.”
“You can call me Zoe,” I reply, rolling my eyes. Although, Ms. Page is a step up from Ms. Difficult.
“Zoe,” he stresses, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Come, let me show you where I’d like you to start.”
I’m lead to a spacious bathroom attached to his man cave/office. “This is the only bathroom I’ve been using and as you can see, it’s still cluttered with old man items.” He opens a closet piled high with junk and another cabinet also stuffed full.
“All this belonged to my uncle. I need it sorted out and the whole room cleaned.”
The sound of ripping tape bounces off the walls as he opens a large cardboard box. “You should find everything you need in here, but if not, just let me know and I’ll take care of it.”
The box is stuffed full of random cleaning supplies. Gloves, cleansers, sponges, scrub brushes and rags are packed under a receipt for the supplies. He obviously ordered it all online. Who buys toilet cleanser online? Spoiled, rich men, I suppose.
“I doubt you’ll find much worth donating in here, but if you do, just box it up. There are empty boxes in the hall. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
“Thanks, I should be fine,” I reply, setting my bag in a corner.
“I’ll let you get started, then.” He hesitates and runs a hand nervously through his hair. “I’ve never employed someone before. I’m glad you took the job, Zoe. I hope you like it enough to stay.”
His uncertainty is too adorable, so different from his usual personality. “I’m sure I will. Thanks.” I give him a reassuring smile before turning to my task, and he leaves me to it.
Gloves are definitely a necessity when I tackle the pile in the closet. Most of the items are what you’d expect to find in a bathroom. Old electric razors and shaving kits, those pink basins all elderly people seem to have to soak their feet, ratty, moth eaten robes and housecoats.
I find more and more female items toward the back of the closet. It’s sad as I imagine his uncle packed his wife’s belongings away after she died so he wouldn’t have to look at them. It obviously wasn’t sorted, just stuffed in boxes. Old makeup is mixed with bottles of outdated aspirin, a hair dryer shoved in a box with crumbling bars of soap and hair pins. Landon’s right, none of this is salvageable.
Two and a half hours later, I have five boxes and three trash bags filled with garbage, and I’m just starting on the cabinet when Landon clears his throat behind me. A silly grin lights his face when I jump and spin to face him. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry,” he says, looking anything but. “Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Eager to get a little revenge, I pull an enema bag and tube from the cabinet, thankful fo
r my disposable gloves. “Should I save your clean out kit?”
“That’s not mine!”
“Hey, whatever you’re into is none of my business,” I tease, moving it closer to him and watching him cringe.
“Gross. Chuck it and the gloves.” His eyes widen when he sees the empty closet. “Wow, you’re fast. Take a break. Are you hungry?”
“I brought my dinner,” I reply, stripping off the gloves and washing my hands.
“Well, come and eat with me.” Does this man ever ask a question instead of giving an order?
“Okay.” I shrug. I could use a break.
Chapter Two
Landon
It’s hard to keep my eyes off of Zoe when she sits on my couch, her sandwich in her lap. All I can think is how her body felt under my palms when we danced. Her ass grinding against me, the taste of her neck beneath my lips. Fuck. Why am I so fixated on this one chick? Because I can’t have her?
Oh, I could have her. She wants me even if she hates the idea, but now that she’s my employee, I won’t touch her. One and done, that’s my rule. No staying overnight or repeat performances. It keeps things simple. Fucking my housekeeper, no matter how sexy she looked bent over the closet, would not be simple. It’d be a mess.
Pale brown eyes catch my scrutinizing gaze. “What?”
“Nothing.” I just want to fuck you ragged.
“Okay,” she replies, stretching out the word. “Do you live here alone?”
“Are you asking me if I have a girlfriend?” She scoffs at my grin. Damn, I’m flirting with her again. Off limits, off limits.
“No, you Cro-Magnon, I meant relatives, friends, other staff. It’s a big place to live alone. I imagine it’d be lonely.”
Oh, what I could do to her smart mouth. “It’s just me. I spend most of my time in this room, so it doesn’t seem as big as it is. What about you? Live-in boyfriend? A bunch of cats?”
I dodge the nacho chip she throws at me. “I wouldn’t sleep with you, so I must be a crazy cat lady?” She’s trying not to grin.
“I didn’t say that.”
“No cats. No boyfriend.” She looks like she’s going to say something else, but changes her mind. “I don’t have a lot of time between work and school.”
“What do you study?”
“Science,” she replies, a smile breaking through.
“Yeah, you want to be a scientist?”
“I’m working toward a PHD in evolutionary biology.” Smart and beautiful. This woman is double trouble. She tucks a lock of light brown hair behind her ear and it catches the light, illuminating her red highlights. “What do you do?”
I gesture toward the computer on my desk. “Computer programmer. I build and maintain websites for businesses.”
“Cool. I’m close to computer illiterate. I know how to search, read email, and check Facebook. That’s about it.”
“I’ve always been interested in technology, and coding comes easy to me. I enjoy it.”
She smiles at me. “That’s what I hope, to one day love my job. Speaking of, I should get back to work.”
A couple of hours later, I lean back from my keyboard, remove my earbuds and almost laugh aloud. I can hear Zoe singing as she mops the floor. Her voice is low and husky, sexy. Since when does someone singing make me hard? This difficult woman does something to me I don’t understand, but it can’t be good.
I lounge in the doorway, watching and listening until she notices me. Her cheeks turn pink and she glares at me. “Are you going to stalk me the whole time I clean?”
“Are you always going to be this entertaining?”
She grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like asshole and gets to her feet. “I’m done in here. Where would you like me next?”
In my bed, screaming my name. “The kitchen’s pretty grimy.”
“Lead the way.” Her nose wrinkles at the sight of the inside of the fridge. I guess it does have a certain…odor.
“I’ll tackle this tomorrow. It’ll take longer than an hour to bleach it all.” I leave her scrubbing down the counters when there’s a knock on my door.
“Landon, open up, you son of a bitch.” Dare. I forgot he was coming by tonight.
“It’s open, asshole.” Dare fills the doorway, looming just inside. The man is a damn mountain.
“Watch what you say, my housekeeper is in the kitchen.”
A mirthful light appears in his eye. “Housekeeper huh? What does she look like?” Before I can stop him, he strides into the kitchen. “Well, hello, sweetheart.”
Zoe’s expression is thunderous. “Since I have no clue who you are, I’m confident I’m not your sweetheart.”
Slipping between them, I give Dare a look that says mine, and he grins at me. “Dare, this is Zoe, Zoe, meet Dare. Just ignore him. Being an asshole comes natural to him.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Dare laughs at her perfunctory greeting as I drag him out of the kitchen. “So, you hit that, yet?” he asks, flopping onto the couch in my office.
“Tempting, but she works for me. She needs a job and I need the help, so don’t fuck it up by banging her.”
“Got a mouth on her, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, she does. So, do you have the updated list?”
He tosses a folder on the table. “We need the usual. Addresses, bank accounts, etc.”
“I’ll get on it tonight. Have you talked to the guys about moving the operation here?”
“They’re on board. Once you get the place ready, we’ll get Justus in to wire everything up, put the safeguards in place.”
Good. I know I’m missing out on half the shit the group does since I can only work at night. My foot taps the ground while I consider the possibilities. “With Zoe helping, the room should be ready in a few months.”
“How do you plan to explain what goes on here to your new employee?” He sneers on the word employee.
“She thinks I build websites. As far as she’ll know, we all do.”
“If you say so.” Dare gets to his feet. “I’ve got some strange coming over. Got to go.”
“Tell the woman I can finish her off after you humiliate yourself.”
“Fuck off, raisin.”
After I feed the information Dare gave me into my computer, I head back to the kitchen to find Zoe finishing up. “I’m done for tonight. Same time tomorrow?”
“Sounds good.”
Her eyes are locked to her phone as she skims through her contacts and presses a button. “Yes, ma’am. I need a taxi at…”
I reach across and hit end, stepping back before she can kick me in the nuts. Judging by the look on her face, it was a distinct possibility. “What the hell?”
“Why do you need a taxi? Is that how you always get to work?” That’d cost her a fortune.
“As long as I’m at work on time, it’s none of your business how I get here.” She holds up her palm as I open my mouth. “But, if you’re so concerned I might not show, you can relax. I have a car. It’s being repaired. I’ll have it back in less than a week.”
“Good to know. Get your stuff. I’ll run you home.”
I couldn’t have shocked her more if I’d dropped my pants and shook my ass in her face. “You don’t need to do that, I…”
“Just get your stuff, Ms. Difficult.”
After considering for a moment, she huffs, “Fine, thank you.” Well, that sounded like it killed her. “For some reason, I pictured a sports car,” she says with a small smile as we settle into my sedan.
“Because I give off a spoiled rich guy vibe?”
“No, your house does,” she replies with a giggle.
“I only inherited it a few months ago.” Why am I defending myself? I’ve never done without anything, but I wasn’t exactly rolling in riches either. For some reason, I don’t want her to see me as some rich douche.
I try to keep the frown off my face as she leads me into a neighborhood I wouldn’t want to walk through unarmed
. The houses are dilapidated, the yards overgrown. A car alarm blares, almost drowning out the sound of a police siren. “Turn here,” she orders. “It’s the apartment on the end.”
“Thanks for the ride,” she says, and pops open the door, eager to get out of the car.
The sound of my door slamming makes her turn around. “What are you doing?”
“Walking you to your door and making sure you get in okay. This isn’t the best neighborhood.”
I’m rewarded with a long suspicious gaze before she relents and heads across a crumbling courtyard. “Do you live here alone?”
“No.”
She doesn’t elaborate, but her door opens as she approaches and a teenage boy gives me a cautious look. “Everything okay, Zo?”
“Yep. This is my boss, Landon. He gave me a ride home.” She waves him into the house, and he gives me a terse nod before retreating. “Thanks again for bringing me home. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, making it clear she has no intention of inviting me inside.
“Lock your door.” The warning leaps from my mouth before I can stop it, and she laughs.
Her voice softens. “I’ve lived here for over a year. I think I know to lock up. Good night, Landon.”
“Have a good night, Zoe.”
Though I barely know her, I feel guilty leaving her in such a dangerous place. I’m glad she isn’t alone, but who is the boy? He’s far too old to be her son. Her brother, perhaps? Maybe she still lives with her parents and a sibling? No wonder she seemed so happy with the twelve dollars per hour I offered her. Now that I see where she lives, that she isn’t just a student looking for a little extra cash, I’ll have to pay her more. Whatever I can do to help her get out of that area.
I’m too restless to get any work done when I return home. Since it’s a warm night, a run sounds like just the thing. Throwing on a pair of shorts, I grab a bottle of water and head out the door.
It’s almost a mile to the canal and as always, I can smell the water before I get there. I actually prefer the trail along White River, but lately it’s become a hangout for drug dealers and the homeless. After three reports of people getting jumped and robbed in the last week, the well- lit, heavily patrolled trail along the canal is a better choice.
