The CEO and the Girl From the Coffee Shop

by Terry Towers

  "No doubt."

  Taking a deep breath in, she exhaled slowly. "With all due respect, I have a feeling you can well afford a real chef, one who knows how to cook and do what you need them to. Why me?"

  "Fair question." He clucked his tongue off the roof of his mouth as he eyed her. "The thing is that when I say live-in, it means just that and to be honest I'm a fairly hard man to live with."

  Beth grinned, she had a hard time believing that. "But this is a rather large house," she countered.

  "Okay, let me rephrase then. I want someone who I think I'll enjoy having around," his gaze caught hers and once again she felt a familiar pleasurable chill rush down her spine and the throbbing between her legs that that had just begun to die down resumed in full force.

  Enjoy how? Oh-my-God, don't be silly. He certainly doesn't have to hire someone for sex! Maybe he just wants a cook, housekeeper and someone to shoot the shit with from time to time, nothing more and nothing less. But the heat in his gaze told her otherwise. His gaze told her, he wanted her. She'd felt it in the coffee shop and she was feeling it now, more intensely than ever before because there was no counter to use as a buffer between them.

  But what if she was mistaken? What if by taking this job, she'd be forced to endure seeing him bring home a parade of snotty model type women. She growled at herself. This was a job, nothing more or less. Who he brought home would be none of her concern.

  "So what happened to your former cook-slash-housekeeper?"

  "She has moved on."

  "And what other duties would this include?"

  His eyes continued to gaze onto hers. Damn, she hated, but at the same time loved how he was making her feel. Could she work for someone who made her feel this way? She didn't know.

  "Well, the cooking is the primary thing. Breakfast would be required to be prepared and served at 7am sharp every morning. And you are expected to be here and have an acceptable dinner on the table when I come home during the week. On the weekend I expect three meals. In addition, laundry, shopping and cleaning throughout the day. Whatever requires doing - more or less. I do have people come in and take care of the floors, windows, pool twice a week, so virtually everything having to do with the household upkeep would be under your command. And like I say, I require you to be on call 24/7. No exceptions."

  "Sounds like you're looking for a wife to me," she joked.

  His soft smile faded and his expression went blank. Beth gasped her eyes wide in horror as soon at the words that came from her mouth. Why did she keep doing that? Filter. Beth. Filter, she scolded herself. "I'm so sorry. I never meant. I was jo-"

  "Now if you were to fulfill the duties of my wife, then I assure you I'd be expecting more than simple cooking and cleaning." His voice took on a deep, husky sound that made her wish she was bold enough to volunteer for the "extras."

  Running a nervous hand through her hair she couldn't bear to meet his heated gaze. Instead she focused on an abstract painting just over his left shoulder.

  "So would you like to see the kitchen and the room that would be yours before we discuss money and you make a decision either way?"

  She gulped down the lump forming in her throat and nodded. "Yes please."

  ****

  She was a cheeky little thing. And he liked it, perhaps too much. He'd asked himself a number of times during the course of the day if offering her a job and having her live with him was such a good idea. While he'd led her to believe that the previous housekeeper had lived at the house, that hadn't actually been the case. Beth was the first employee that he'd opened his home to. It was partially because of her apparent financial issues, but mostly because there was something about her that had him captivated. And if he were to be brutally honest with himself, the house felt too big for him. He wanted the companionship of a woman without necessarily the relationship.

  One of the highlights of each of his - frequently frustratingly - long days was the sweet smile she'd present him with when he arrived at the coffee shop and the causal flirting that would transpire between them while he was there. He liked that she remembered what he liked and things he'd said. She seemed like such a genuine person, unlike the women he'd dated in the past. Yes, she'd managed to get under his skin and so he wanted her near him, at least until he could sort out his feelings towards her.

  While his intentions for the moment were strictly professional, the thought of having her in his bed, or for that matter, bent over his desk made his cock come alive. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to conceal his growing erection from her. She looked a little indecisive, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel he wanted more than a strictly professional relationship. Whether that was the case or not.

  "So what do you say? Let me show you around?" Standing, he extended his hand to her. She hesitated briefly, looked up, met his eyes with her sapphire blue ones and accepted his hand. His larger hand eclipsed her soft, delicate one as she rose to her feet.

  He led her to the door and opened it, ushering her out and then exiting after her. The first stop would be the kitchen and then he's play it by ear from there.

  "To address the cooking issue-"

  "Are you sure you wouldn't be more suited to have a real chef?" she asked, looking up at him.

  He laughed "No, I know what I want."

  "I just want to be honest with you. Even with a lot of practice I doubt I'll be able to get even close to cooking as well as you'll want from me." She ran her hand through her hair once more, the golden strands, slipping by her fingers one-by-one. It was killing him not to reach over and stroke her soft, silky hair. Or better yet, wrap it around his fist as he pulled her lips up to meet his in a hard, demanding kiss that would leave them both breathless. Oh God, the things he'd like to do to her.

  Her eyes dropped to his groin briefly and then she quickly glanced away flushing. Did he have the same affect on her as she did on him? If he pulled her into his arms and slid a hand up her inner thigh, under her skirt, and then between her legs would she be wet for him. He groaned inwardly as his cock hardened further. If he didn't get a handle on this attraction for her it would be a nightmare having her sleeping down the hall from him.

  Fuck, this was a bad idea.

  Bad or not, it was what he wanted. By the way she flushed and averted her gaze so frequently, especially after the marriage comment he assumed that indeed she did as well. Hoped she did. At the coffee shop he was just another asshole customer, one of hundreds; hell, thousands she served each week. He wanted to know if he was more than just another guy to her.

  "Don't underestimate your abilities, Beth. I have faith in you." He had a warm smile on his face, as he gave her a gentle pat on her shoulder.

  She laughed lightly as they approached the kitchen. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you well in advance."

  "Warning noted."

  As they walked into the massive, fully equipped kitchen Beth gasped beside him.

  "This is your kitchen!"

  Gabriel shrugged. It looked like any other kitchen to him. "Your kitchen, if you want the job." Remembering the large library of cookbooks in cabinet over the sink he brushed past her and retrieved roughly a dozen of them. Carrying them over to the sit-down breakfast bar he plunked them down. "And this will be your homework."

  He watched as she inspected the books, apprehension in her expression as she picked one up and flipped through it. Taking the book she was fingering through from her, he placed it back on the counter and took her hand. "You can study later. Come on... Let me show you your room and the rest of the house." Fearing she would back out, thinking it was too much, he decided giving her the rest of the tour would perhaps persuade her to give it a shot.

  ****

  The tour of the house went by as one big blur. Beth's mind was focused on the hundreds of complicated recipes. From the glance she'd taken she didn't even recognize some of the ingredients. How in the hell was she going to pull this off? That was some crazy assed “Chef Ramsey” shit he
was expecting from her by the looks of it. What if she took the job and couldn't make it work and he let her go? She supposed she could go crawling back to the coffee house, begging for her old job.

  The other thing that was keeping her mind from focusing was his general closeness. They had always had the counter at the coffee shop dividing them, but now he was next to her. Throughout the tour Gabriel would touch her shoulder lightly or place his palm at the small of her back, or take her hand to catch her attention; with each slight contact she was put more on edge as her desire for him rose. Should potential employers be holding potential employees hands? If even briefly. She didn't think so. But she liked it and God help her, she wanted so much more than that.

  Between worrying about the cooking and his close proximity which was turning her body into a raging ball of hormones, she was a wreck. I can get used to being near him, she told herself, the attraction will wear off.

  Their tour ended at the back of the house as he led her to the pool area, featuring a large kidney shaped outdoor pool; lights inside the pool illuminated the water as it shifted colours between blue, red, yellow and green. The area was secluded. Well trimmed hedges that she guessed were close to nine feet high encased the area from the odd chance of someone lurking about. But she was certain intruders would have a hard time getting onto the property to begin with because of the tall, iron fencing circling it.

  The pool looked so tempting and the evening was so beautiful, that she'd have loved to strip down and dive in. With regret, she took one last look at the pool and turned her back to it, reclining back against the wrought iron railing and glancing over at him.

  "So let's get down to it." Gabriel said as he leaned back against the porch railing, his back also to the tempting pool.

  Taking a deep breath in, she released it slowly and nodded. "Okay." She shouldn't be nervous, she should be excited. This was an opportunity to get out of the shit job she was forced to go to each day, and to live here with him, in his palace hideaway. This was an amazing opportunity.

  "What do you think would be a fair wage?" He looked down at her, his face not letting on anything he was thinking.

  Shit! Wage? How much should she ask? She had no idea. She had assumed he would have a number in mind. "So this is a negotiation?" she asked teasingly.

  A grin touched his lips briefly before he swallowed it down. His eyes, however, told of his amusement. "Yes, I suppose it is."

  She narrowed her eyes at him. She was getting the impression he was just humouring her, but played along. She had to consider she was going to get free room and board. And boy what a room it was! She could fit her whole apartment in the bedroom he was planning on assigning her. Then she would have free utilities. Those two things alone cost her close to seventy percent of her pay each week.

  But... this was a negotiation and wasn't the opening offer supposed to be close to twice what you'd really take? Shit, she didn't know. Looking back up at him, her blue eyes locked to his dark ones and without thinking she requested twice as much as she made at the coffee shop.

  He whistled, his expression remaining blank. "Have you really thought that offer through?"

  Shit! It was too much. Damn, damn, damn. Maybe this wasn't meant to be. She groaned inwardly at herself, as a worried expression crossed her face.

  As if sensing her distress, he touched her arm. "I mean, have you really thought through what the job entails. You're on call 24/7. If I want you to get up at 3am to make me a pop tart, then I expect it to be done. If I have a hankering for something that you have to drive across town for at the most inconvenient time, I expect it to be done."

  Her frown deepened. She hadn't thought about it in that sense. "In that case, double my last offer."

  Turning to face her, he nodded. "Done. How early can you start?"

  Holy fuck! Beth's jaw dropped as she turned so she was facing him straight on. Is he serious? Four times what she made at the coffee shop, including tips, plus free room and board! Looking up into his eyes there was no doubt he was indeed serious with his offer. "Oh-my-God. I was joking."

  "I'm not. Money isn't an issue for me. I think this can be a good arrangement, and I'm willing to do what it takes to make this happen."

  Her mind was whirling. There was so much to consider. She'd need to give notice to her landlord. To the coffee shop. What if it didn't work? What if Gabriel was actually some sort of eccentric nutcase? Surely offering someone the kind of money he was her to cook for him, especially when she admitted the best she could manage was mac and cheese was a little off-balanced.

  But the money would be so good right now. She could work for him for the year and then study full-time for the next two years without having to worry about debt and juggling work and school. Whatever his reasoning for offering her what he was, she knew it was in her best interests to chalk it up to him being generous. There were times when you don't turn generosity away; this was one of those times.

  With her mind made up she couldn't help but tease. She glanced up at him, an eyebrow arched, pretending to contemplate the offer. "Do I have to wear one of those little French maid uniforms?"

  A heated, hungry look crossed his features as his eyes slowly made their way down the length of her body then back up to meet her eyes once more. "Now that is a very interesting idea. It's not mandatory, but I wouldn't be opposed to it." He shrugged. "I welcome the idea in fact."

  Her face immediately flushed. Damn. But a part of her loved the way he was looking at her. The hungry part longed for him to pull her tight against him, and have his way with her on the cool deck.

  "But..." He reached out and caught a lock of her hair between his fingers and then watched it fall, strand-by-strand from his fingertips. A shiver rocked her body and she had to fight to suppress a soft moan. "If you're not willing to wear the uniform I suppose you can wear whatever you like."

  "Okay."

  "Okay," he confirmed, smiling widely.

  "You have yourself a cook slash maid slash, whatever else you need in the middle of the night girl, Mr Reynolds."

  His grin widened as he extended his hand to her. "You have no idea how much I was hoping you'd say that Miss Wilmington."

  Chapter 3

  Beth flopped herself backwards onto the large king sized bed with a satisfied sigh. The soft mattress cushioned her, enticing her to close her eyes and drift off to sleep. It was a far cry from the hard futon she had been calling a bed for the past year. She was tired, but a wide smile appeared as she surveyed the massive bedroom that was now hers. She felt like a princess, though come tomorrow Cinderella may be more accurate a term.

  The past few days had been a whirlwind of activity for Beth. Gabriel had insisted she start immediately, but she managed to negotiate two days with him. Reluctantly, he'd agreed. He was - without a doubt - the type of man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it without any hesitation.

  The day after their meeting and her agreeing to work for him, he'd hired a moving company and they began to clean out her apartment for her - not that there was much to move and he paid off her landlord. All that came with her to his mansion was her clothing and her personal belongings.

  Her appliances, housewares and items of that nature were donated and he gave her check for an amount that was well over the retail value of her well used items. When she protested he informed her it was a salary bonus and a write-off for him financially so not to worry. While her pride told her to fight it, it almost felt like they were getting married rather than her going to work for him, the sensible part of her told her that it was for the best. If worse came to worst, the "bonus" he'd given her more than covered her expenses for close to six months if she were to move out. She had to think of this practically, and practicality speaking she needed to take the "bonus," in the off chance things didn't work out with Gabriel and she needed a safety net.

  "Well, aren't you the sweet one Mr Reynolds," Beth muttered as she propped herself up on her elbows and
glanced over at the cookbooks sitting on the large mahogany dresser that Gabriel must have had brought up to her. She "officially" started work in the morning; breakfast was to be on the table at 7am sharp. With a groan she reluctantly sat up and made her way over to the books.

  Atop the stack of books was a note from Gabriel.

  Beth,

  I took the liberty of marking some of my favourite dishes. You might want to come accustomed to those first. I apologize for not being around these past couple of days to help you settle in, but I have been tied up. I do have a surprise for you. Be ready at 8pm. I look forward to tasting what you have to offer me.

  Gabriel

  P.S. I highly suggest you wear what is in the closet tonight.

  "Look forward to tasting what you have to offer me?" Beth muttered, biting back a grin and halfway hoping there was a double meaning to that comment. A surprise for me? Excitement welled up within her as she made her way over to the large walk-in closet. Pulling open the double doors she gasped, her eyes immediately focusing on the black, strapless floor length gown, hooked on a steel rack in the center of the closet, along with a matching satin wrap. "You have got to be shitting me," she muttered as she walked into closet and tentatively touched the soft fabric. The tag inside was marked Versace.

  She unhooked the dress and draped it over her arms as if it were made of tissue paper and strode over to the bed, laying it out on top of the taupe coloured comforter. The dress would have easily have cost her a months salary at the coffee shop, most likely much more. She had no idea when it came to prices of high-end clothing. As high-end as she ever got was "The Gap."

  Upon closer examination she noticed a string of black gemstones lining the top of the bodice that glistened as the light from ceiling hit them. It suddenly occurred to her that it was beginning to get dark outside.