Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair

by M. S. Parker

  Now there was a thought that could keep me distracted and hard all day. Damn. I wanted her.

  Chelsea finally broke the silence and said, “I better go. Jamison will be looking for me.”

  I sighed. “And I suppose the producer of this movie should stop hiding in his car.”

  “Besides a stocked bar, is there anything else we can do for you?” she asked.

  “Yes, actually. Start thinking up a scene that explains how the hero and the new love interest actually meet. I’ve got a bunch of ideas, but they’re all the kind of meet-cutes you’ve seen in at least fifty other movies.”

  “What makes you think I know the way people meet?”

  “Come on,” I teased. “You must’ve had dozens of college guys falling over themselves to meet you back in Oregon.”

  “Not really,” Chelsea laughed. “I guess I’ll have to get creative.”

  I said goodbye with a smile on my face. Chelsea probably never noticed all the heads she turned with that beautiful face and those fathomless eyes. She didn’t even know how beautiful she was when everyone else could see it. I could tell by the way she’d give a little smile and look at the ground.

  I got out of the car and swung the door shut as I jammed my thumb on the key fob to lock it. There was so much about Chelsea I didn’t know and I really didn’t like the possibility that there could be some young stallion of a college guy hot for her back in Oregon, or worse a boyfriend waiting for her return. She'd denied it when I'd suggested it before, but she'd never really given me an alternate explanation. Whatever she was reluctant to divulge over the phone, I wouldn’t be able to find out until the end of the day. Then I’d have time to sit and talk, time to get to know her better. It was just going to be hard to face the long stretch of the afternoon dealing with pain-in-the-ass April when all I wanted to do was be with Chelsea.

  I yanked open the door to the studio wondering about Chelsea’s past and feeling a ping of jealousy. Maybe there was someone back home who knew her far better than I did. Someone she cared about for more than some summer fling.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chelsea

  “Welcome back, Ms. Temple. Good day on set?” I asked.

  The uniformed driver held out his hand and she took it as she got out of the car.

  April gave me a dismissive look and said, “Did my packages arrive? I ordered a few things to make the guest cottage livable.”

  “No, Ms. Temple, nothing has arrived yet,” I said.

  Letting go of his hand, she waved him away like a fly. He looked at me questioningly and I shrugged. The driver was supposed to take April directly to the guest cottage, but it looked like she’d ordered a detour to the main house.

  Fluffing out her curls, April swept past me and then waited for me to follow her to the center of the foyer. After she passed, I rolled my eyes at her back and walked inside.

  “My first scene was a success, and I’m expecting Alex will want to celebrate.”

  I bit my lip and took the silk wrap she tossed at me. It was unbelievable how different her memory of the day was from what Alex had described. April’s ability to edit her life to her own specifications was amazing. Unfortunately, the movie editors didn’t seem to have the same magic. I’d heard Alex on the phone with them three times in the last hour since he’d arrived back at the house.

  “I believe Mr. Alex is still working.”

  “Ridiculous. Am I going to have to find him myself?” April asked. “Honestly, you are a terrible servant, leaving a guest waiting like this.”

  I nodded and slipped into the narrow servants’ hallway.

  “Come in,” Alex called out to me. “Good timing, Chelsea. I think I’ve finally wrapped things up for the night. Now all I have to do is wait to hear Henry’s opinion on the dailies.”

  “That’s great. Now for the bad news, April is waiting in the foyer,” I said. “She said you’d want to...celebrate.”

  Instead of the panicked irritation I expected, Alex snorted a laugh, stood up and headed for the office door. My spirits sunk. It looked like I was in for another evening of running back and forth to do April’s bidding. Alex must’ve noticed the dread on my face, because he laughed again and gave me a quick hug.

  I stared at him. What the hell?

  “I thought she might pull something so I came up with a plan,” he said.

  I raised a brow. “Looks like you’re getting good at your job, Mr. Producer.”

  His eyes sparkled in the sun, and I was caught in his look. Alex’s wide hands ran slowly down my arms and the soft friction sent crackles of electricity straight into my core. He started to lean in for a kiss, but I stepped back. No getting caught up this time.

  “Ms. Temple is waiting,” I said.

  Although we talked like equals, I was still wearing the maid’s uniform. As much as I thirsted for a taste of his lips, as much as my body wanted to answer the melting softness in his eyes, I really didn’t like being flirted with behind closed doors. It reminded me of our situation. I was still his maid and he was my employer.

  Alex gave me a small frown and opened the office door. “Don’t worry, like I said, I have a plan.”

  “She’s your guest and I’m your maid. You don’t need to reassure me,” I said, not able to meet his eyes. I knew it'd come out too harsh, and I regretted it as soon as I said it, but it was too late.

  Alex straightened up and rolled his shoulders. I felt a kick in my chest as I recognized the move. He often did the same thing when Jamison dropped big hints, as if a weight dropped on his shoulders and he wished he could get it off.

  My chest hurt again. I was tired of all this. Of putting up this charade of being the maid in front of guests then clawing and kissing each other in secret. I needed to be honest with Alex, and he needed to know that pursuing our feelings in our current roles was taking its toll on me. What I regretted more, however, was what I felt as he rolled those wide, strong shoulders. It wasn’t guilt that was hitting me, but the realization that I was starting to know him well enough to know his gestures, an intimacy more unsettling than the press of his lips against mine. I hadn’t planned on that, and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I'd pushed him away.

  “After you,” he said.

  We took the short walk down the main hall to the foyer, and the entire time, I felt like I was falling. The desire I felt for Alex pulled me forward, but my balance deserted me. I paused in the hallway overwhelmed by a helpless kind of vertigo. I hadn’t felt this way since my father had passed, when he didn’t come home. That bottomless drop had opened daily for years, and now I realized what it was. Longing.

  I longed for Alex. I missed him when he was out of the room. I wanted to reach for him though he was just a couple of steps away and waiting for me to catch up.

  “Chelsea, are you alright?” he whispered.

  I nodded and forced my feet to move. The flirtations, the sexual tension, the hot flares of our kisses, even the memory of our bodies melding together, were things I could learn to handle. But now I felt like the bottom was dropping out from under me again and I could fall.

  Alex put on a bright smile as he stepped into the foyer to face April. “You’re here!”

  “Where else would I be?” April asked stiffly.

  “The guest cottage, of course. How am I supposed to surprise you if you don’t let the driver follow the instructions I gave him,” Alex said, waggling a finger at her.

  “A surprise?” Her face brightened. “What surprise?”

  “You want me to ruin it by telling you?”

  April tossed her hair. “I want to know I’m not just being thrown out into the cold night.”

  I hung back, listening and patiently waiting for them to finish their conversation, but as usual April reacted as if her life was made up of movie scenes that she had to act out. I wondered why she couldn’t just be herself. Why did everything in her life need to be so dramatic? If only she was that good on screen.

 
“I hired you a spa team. You’re supposed to be sipping champagne right now while getting a foot massage and pedicure. There’s a hot tub filled with scented oils and a Swedish masseuse waiting to ease any tension from your first day on the set,” Alex said.

  “Oh, darling, you’re so thoughtful,” April said and sprung into his arms for a hug.

  She wrapped herself around him and I tried not to gag. Alex finally extracted himself, and turned away in an effort to escape, but April clutched his hand and drew it to her low neckline as she kissed his knuckles.

  She purred, “You’ll be joining me later?”

  “You know I can’t,” he said. “A producer’s work is never finished. Especially when half the crew is in the U.S.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The time difference is hell on my sleep. But, anyway, you go enjoy your pampering and get a good night’s sleep. See you on set tomorrow.”

  Alex disappeared down the hallway and missed seeing April’s face change from her usual simpering to disdain sharpened by her failed proposition. She held out her hand and snatched the silk wrap I handed her. Then she swept out the door and barked at the driver to take her to the guest cottage. As the heavy wooden door swung shut behind her, I shook my head and breathed in the returning peace.

  “Chelsea?”

  I jumped a mile as I realized Alex had come back into the foyer. He stood under the chandelier, unaware of how the light turned his hair to gold. He looked like a movie star himself, and I thought how furious April would be if she knew that he didn't rebuff my touch.

  The thought added warmth to my cheeks and it must’ve come out in my smile because Alex relaxed. He plucked a rosebud out of the large arrangement Jamison kept fresh on the center table of the foyer. Toying with the flower, he swept his gaze over me, and the heat spread from my checks to my entire body.

  Whenever Alex looked at me, I felt like he saw the real me. His eyes pierced through the shell of my exterior, the front I put up in my role as his maid, the mask I'd had to wear to survive my years as a foster child. I believed he could sense what was in my heart, in a way no one else had ever done. Next to the curvy bombshell beauty of April, I felt like I didn’t compare. But as he stood here in front of me holding the rose, I could see a special look deep in his eyes, something meant only for me.

  At least, I hoped it was.

  “Your guest is gone. Well done,” I managed to say.

  “Then it’s official,” Alex said.

  “What is?”

  “You have the night off,” he said, and handed me the rose. “What’re you going to do with your free time?”

  I smiled and waved the fragrant, crimson petals under my nose. “Well, I know this movie producer who needs a few scenes written. I might spend some time thinking about how two people meet.”

  “You’re going to take your night off and work?” Alex asked, raising his eyebrow.

  I shrugged, eyeing the deep, velvet texture of the curled petals. “What else would I do?”

  “I was hoping you’d have dinner with me,” he said. He reached out and touched his fingers to my arm, sending a shiver up my skin.

  “Alex, I…I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I said.

  “Jamison will be there.” His fingers trailed gently down my arm until my hand rested in his palm. “I just want to make sure you understand. I want you there as my guest. You won’t have to work. The three of us can cook together and I’ll clear the dishes.”

  “Well…” I tried to protest, but in my heart, I just wanted to agree.

  “I’d really love to have you join me,” Alex said, “I mean, unless of course you have a hot date or something.”

  I laughed, not wanting to let go of his hand. “Alright. Dinner in the kitchen sounds like the perfect way to spend my free time. I’ll just go change.”

  Alex squeezed my hand, and I nearly had to pry it lose from his grip in order to leave. He stood there a sensual smile curving his lips, his eyes half hooded as if already dreaming about how things would go after dinner. I headed for the stairs to the servants’ quarters feeling giddy, but reminded myself not to get too excited. It was just dinner, and besides, we wouldn’t be alone, Jamison would be there.

  * * *

  I skipped up the stairs just in time to hear a call coming on the Facetime app on my laptop where I’d left it open on my writing desk. When I reached it, I was surprised to see it was Clara calling from Oregon. I clicked on the call and the screen popped open to Clara’s smiling face.

  “Hey girlie. What’s up?” she chirped.

  I almost shushed my best friend, but then I realized there was no way anyone could hear her. “Clara, what’re you doing up at this hour? Isn’t it crazy early in the Oregon?”

  “Nice to hear from you too. What’s going on? And, yeah, I’m still up. You know this summer job is a night job. I just got home. Anyway, what’re you doing? I can’t see you. Stand in front of the camera.”

  “I have to get ready for dinner. I don’t have a lot of time, so talk fast while I change.”

  Although my back was turned to the camera I could hear the excitement in Clara’s voice when she said, “Oooo, so you’re going on a date with him?”

  I spun back from my search through my drawers for something nice to wear and hissed, “It’s not a date. It’s just dinner with him. And Jamison will be there too.”

  “Why are you whispering? He’s not there in the room with you, is he?”

  I stood in front of the camera long enough for her to see my deadpan stare and said, “Clara…get real.”

  “Your butler buddy won’t get in the way and you know it. Give him half a chance, and I'll bet he’ll be planning your wedding. In fact, give me Jamison’s number because we have a lot of things to coordinate,” Clara said.

  “This isn’t a date and we’re not getting married. We’re not even seeing each other,” I whispered in front of the laptop screen. “Not really.”

  “But you’ve got the hots for him. I bet when he’s gone, you think about him day and night.” Clara giggled. “Well, night, anyway. I bet you dream about him too, don’t you? Hot dreams with hot sex.”

  “What I’m doing is wishing I hadn’t told you any of that,” I said.

  “You’re in love,” Clara said with a sing-song tone to her voice.

  I groaned, “This is exactly why I should have kept my mouth shut. That’s ridiculous.”

  Clara laughed. “What’s ridiculous is Chelsea Carerra thinking she can have an easy fling with any guy. I know you. You’re not a one-night-stand kind of girl.”

  “But you’ve never met Alex. I could be delusional for all you know,” I said.

  “Oh, please. Chelsea, you have the most brutal ability to read people I’ve ever seen. If you’re getting all aflutter over him, and it appears you are, because you haven’t stood still one second while we’ve been trying to talk…can’t you sit down in front of the screen?” Clara didn’t wait for my response. She just made a face and went on, “Yup, that means you’ve seen it in him to.”

  I dashed out into the hall to get my dress from the tiny wardrobe at the top of the stairs and left her calling my name. “Chelsea? Where’d you go? I didn’t stay up this long to talk to the air, you know.”

  She was right. I was a good judge of people, and if I wasn’t getting clear signs of affection from a guy there’s no way I’d open up. With Alex, I felt like a field laid open to the sky.

  I stepped in front of the computer screen holding up the nicest dress I’d brought with me. It was also the only dress.

  “Ooo, yes. Wear that,” Clara said, her eyes widening as I spun around in front of the desk. “I say dare Mr. Silverhaus to gaze upon you in that dress without getting a stiffy,” she teased.

  “Stop it, you perv!” I laughed. “Oh, Clara, I wish you were here. I miss you,” I said.

  “I miss you too, but trust me, hon, as soon as Alex gets a look at you in that dress, you two will want to be alone,” Clara said.

&n
bsp; I said goodbye to Clara and slipped on the dress. The fabric fluttered over me and the feeling went straight to my stomach. No longer in a uniform, I was excited to see Alex. I reminded myself I wasn’t his date, but tonight I wasn’t his maid, either, and that thought made me smile.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Alex

  The silverware I was holding clattered to the table when Chelsea walked into the kitchen. Jamison gave me a sharp look, but then I saw his eyes get caught too. Chelsea was stunning. It was the same white dress she’d worn for her birthday dinner, and it was having the same effect on me now.

  I imagined running my hands up that short skirt, yanking off her panties...

  “Ah, Chelsea. You’re just in time to get the bread out of the oven. I don’t trust him not to drop it.” Jamison’s words jogged me out of my thoughts, and although I knew they were spoken to Chelsea, I knew he wanted to remind me of his presence.

  She smiled, proving Jamison right as I fumbled for another fork.

  “The bread smells delicious. Is it the honey-wheat one you make?” she asked Jamison as she went to the drawer to remove oven mitts.

  From where I was placing the silverware, I watched the two of them working together smoothly, chatting freely. The two of them moved so naturally together. I envied Jamison. He seemed to know Chelsea better than I did.

  Still engrossed in her conversation with Jamison, Chelsea turned the baking pan over and popped the loaf of bread onto a wire rack. “Karl would love this bread. It was his favorite when we were little.”

  I stepped a little closer to the large kitchen island trying to get in on the conversation. I really wanted to know more about Chelsea, but it seemed like I was failing on my own. Maybe I needed Jamison's help.

  “Is Karl your brother?” I asked.