Maid for the Rock Star

by Demelza Carlton

  Game on. Audra climbed over the edge and slid to the bottom of the two-person tub. She grabbed the stack of fresh towels she'd brought with her and rolled a couple into a temporary fence around the frogs. She unfolded a third and spread it over the top of the enclosure. All she had to do was nudge them into the drain. Slowly, carefully...a muffled plop sounded from under the towel. One down, three to go.

  Steadily, Audra tightened the enclosure, hearing another satisfying plop. She continued pushing the towels together until there wasn't space for a frog between them. Cautiously, she lifted them up. No more frogs, to her delight. That left only the escape hatch to secure. The drain grille was easily replaced, but there was nothing holding it in place to prevent the frogs from jumping right back up again. Pulling her multi-tool out, Audra unfolded the pliers and went to work on the metal, bending the edges so it wedged tightly into the top of the drain hole. Satisfied, she sat up and tucked the multi-tool back into her pocket.

  The sound of running water made her freeze. The spa tap wasn't turned on and neither was the shower. The flow was too strong for the basin tap, so Audra stared in horror at the man relieving himself into the toilet bowl. Expensive designer jeans clung to what she had to admit was a very peachy bum – so shapely that it took her a moment to register that the guy was wearing jeans in a tropical climate. Her VIP was a foreign tourist, definitely. A foreigner with a fire hose.

  In a tiny house like her parents', privacy was a precious commodity and soundproofing was non-existent. So with three brothers and her dad using the toilet beside the bedroom she shared with her younger sister, Samantha, the two girls had categorised the noises they heard as they lay giggling in their bunk beds at night.

  There were the tinklers – usually little boys and old men who tinkled in a tiny trickle for eternity like a leaky tap. Then there were the sprayers – who didn't aim for the bottom of the toilet bowl but liked the sound of liquid falling on porcelain, or so it seemed. And the gushers – those who'd built up a whole head of pressure and were going at it like a fire hose. As both she and her brothers had grown up, she'd added a fourth category to the list – the beaters. These took advantage of the privacy of the toilet to jack off, and their tell-tale moans and groans had always made her laugh.

  Mr VIP Peach-Bum – or should that be Plum-Bum, given his dark jeans? – most certainly wasn't a beater: he was the sort of high-pressure gusher you got from a three-hour drive down unsealed roads from town, then a rough boat trip through changing tides to the island. Or a bender involving a carton or two of cheap beer, a bottle of bourbon and a football match on TV so riveting they couldn't leave it until the final whistle blew. No, foreign tourists didn't understand Aussie rules football.

  She considered climbing out of the bath and sneaking out while his back was turned, but it made more sense to stay where she was. At least then she had the excuse of dealing with the frogs – she could say she hadn't seen or heard a thing. And she hadn't – until the man shook himself and turned slightly to reach for the toilet paper. Then she saw what she had to admit was quite a sizeable piece of equipment before he tucked his fire hose back into his pants and zipped everything safely inside. Maybe he was a porn star.

  Well. There was some excitement for a morning. A free show. Audra felt a touch of dampness on her thigh. Oh, bloody hell. Was the frog grinning at her? Little bastard. She grabbed a towel and used it to push it off her leg and closer to the plughole. Shit. She'd sealed it. Audra threw the towel over the top of the cheeky beast and bundled it up, hoping this time she had the frog inside. Now Plum-Bum just had to get the hell out so she could make a dash for the French doors to the veranda.

  Water hissed and pattered into the basin, followed by the sound of someone pressing the liquid soap dispenser. She'd never hated good hygiene this much. Why couldn't Plum-Bum forget to wash his hands? The frog was already squirming its way out in another escape attempt.

  Footsteps crossed the tiles and she heard a distinctly Aussie voice say, "Shit, I need a beer. What's in the mini-bar today?"

  "What do I look like, your maid? Go look for yourself, lazy-arse." The woman sounded like she was in the kitchen.

  "I have it on good authority that it's a fine arse, not that you'd notice, sis. I've had a couple of magazines ask to do centrefolds devoted to this perfection." Plum-Bum's voice faded as he padded off to join the woman that Audra realised was his sister in the kitchen.

  Audra breathed again and lifted her head above the lip of the tub. The coast was clear. She vaulted over and sprinted for the outside door. The lock clicked and the doors swung open as she waved her wristband frantically at the scanner. Clutching the bundled towel in her arms, she bumped her certainly-not-centrefold-worthy bottom against the door to shut it. A second click of the lock told her she was safe.

  She shook the frog out under the veranda and carried the crumpled towel to her trolley at Pinctada. So much for an uneventful first day in the Pearls. Could this one have been worse?

  Yes, she decided. He could have seen her. He could have been doing more than pissing. The frog could have entered her underwear. Or hopped out of the bath and alerted him. Or both. Or it could've been the sister in the bathroom...

  Hmm, a brother and sister who could afford Maxima. Were they some mining or media tycoon's grown-up kids? That was almost worse than the younger sort – these would deliberately pour chocolate sauce on the rug and snigger as they watched her clean it up. The sort of people who'd never had to work a day in their lives. She wouldn't let it worry her, but she wouldn't take any shit from them, either.

  Audra slung a laundry bag over her shoulder and seized a fresh stack of towels. Lifting her chin, she marched back to the villa.

  FIVE

  Audra scanned her wristband and waited for the door to open, but it remained firmly shut. The intercom beside her emitted a persistent beep. She swiped her ID down the scanner slowly, so the stupid thing couldn't possibly misread it. She took a calming breath and the beeping stopped...but only for a moment before it resumed.

  Audra glared at the intercom screen and was stunned to see a message scrawled across it.

  GUESTS AT HOME.

  NOTIFY?

  Her finger hovered over CANCEL, but she changed her mind and pressed the ENTER button.

  A soft chime sounded, echoing in the villa. "Housekeeping at the door," a recorded but mellifluous English voice announced. "Maid service required?"

  "Hell yes!" Audra heard Plum-Bum's excited shout.

  His sister hushed him. The front door flew open and Audra found herself face to face with a young woman about her own age. Audra lowered her gaze to the woman's expensive shoes. "We don't need anything. We just arrived today and haven't made enough mess to need a clean-up yet."

  But I did, Audra thought but didn't say. The bath tub was still full of frog-tainted towels. "Towels," she said, pointing.

  "Ask her!" Plum-Bum insisted, his bare feet appearing on the tiles behind the woman. "You'd fuck me, right?"

  Wow. He might have decent equipment, but that's all that defined this dickhead. Probably a porn star for sure. "No, thank you," Audra said faintly.

  "What'd she say?" Plum-Bum demanded.

  The woman shook her head and guided Audra to the bathroom, then blocked the doorway to keep her brother out. "She doesn't understand English. Most hotel maids are foreign migrants, waiting for their qualifications to come through as they improve their English so they can get higher-paying jobs. Besides, she could lose her job for sleeping with a guest. Don't you remember what the hotel manager said about fraternisation policies during our tour? Leave her alone, Jason."

  Audra snorted. In Perth, maybe, hotel staff were recent migrants, but not here in Broome. Even the casual staff were Aussie. But if the woman's words kept her oversexed brother's hands off her, all the better. She set the stack of fresh towels on the edge of the spa and stuffed the froggy ones into the laundry bag.

  Glass clinked on metal. An empty beer bottle go
ing into the bin, most likely. The crunch and crackle of plastic followed it. Definitely the bin. She'd empty that on the way through and then she could escape the Pearls for the day.

  Fixing her eyes firmly on the tiled floor, Audra marched to the kitchen to the approaching beat of helicopter rotors. Third flight today.

  "Right, there's my ride returning. Don't get into too much trouble, don't make too much trouble for the staff, and enjoy your holiday. If you're not fit and ready for the band's farewell tour, you know it'll be your balls on the chopping block."

  Band? Did she say he was in a band? Audra raised her gaze to scrutinise Plum-Bum's face. Even with the sexy stubble along his usually clean-shaven jaw, she recognised the face from the poster that had adorned her bedroom wall for the better part of the last five years. The one Sam kissed every morning. One she'd fantasised about since high school. Maybe she'd even kissed that poster once or twice herself. She glanced away before he could catch her staring. Oh shit. She'd already seen his –

  "Promise me that if you get lonely, you'll call me. Don't do anything stupid." The sister sniffed. "I do love and care about you, you know."

  "HA!" he shouted. "I knew it. Told you that you wanted me. It's not incest if I'm your stepbrother. Everyone wants me."

  Audra snorted. Arrogant prick. Even she could tell the girl didn't.

  "You're delusional, Jason. I love you because you're my brother, blood or no blood. I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth." She pulled out her phone and tapped it meaningfully. "Promise me you'll call me."

  He nodded sulkily.

  Her eyes met Audra's. "Don't take any shit from him. There's a place in town that neuters tomcats for half-price. You can put it on his hotel bill." She winked.

  Audra stifled a snort of laughter. Mess with this man's glorious equipment? The world would weep. Especially if castration robbed him of his signature, underwear-igniting singing voice. Even she'd shed a tear for the loss.

  She waited for the sister to leave before she pulled out the rubbish bin to change the bag inside.

  Bare feet appeared beside the bin. "You understood every word, I bet," he said. "And I know you recognised me. If you know who I am, we both already know the answer to my question. So answer me. Would you fuck me?"

  SIX

  Audra didn't hesitate. "No." She turned to leave before she could take it back and change her answer.

  A hand landed heavily on her shoulder. "Fuck, don't go. Do you know who I am?"

  Here goes. She sighed as she shrugged out of his grasp and turned to face him. "You're Jay Felix, the lead singer of Chaya, and you have an army of fangirls the world over. Your shows are always sold out because you make yourself...accessible to your fans." And the man who'd played centre stage in all her teenage fantasies.

  He laughed. "More like they make themselves accessible to me." He dropped his voice, into the seductive purr that had made her love his songs back in high school. "Go on, Audrey, tell me you wouldn't."

  "I already have," she snapped. "And it's Audra, not Audrey." She peeled her badge off her breast and held it up to his eyes. "Less distraction so you can see it better." And because she wanted to hear his voice caress her name, just once...

  "I like the view." He deliberately dropped his gaze to her breasts.

  She itched to slap him. She'd never liked her conservative work uniform as much as she did today.

  "What more could a woman want than a fucking rock star, Audrey?" he whispered.

  Rock star? Man whore, more like. And one who couldn't even get her name right. Audra looked him in the eye. "Less swearing, for a start. A bit of honesty. Humility. Someone who listens and remembers her name. Being someone's one and only, and knowing your partner isn't the darling of millions, but yours."

  "Mine?" He stepped closer to her so she could feel his breath warm on her face. "You want to be mine?"

  YES, every cell in her body screamed, or at least those below the neck. The ones in her brain were blaring warning sirens against dickheads who didn't know her name and would cause her to lose her job without caring. Yet here was her high school heart-throb, standing so close to her she could reach out and touch him. Close enough to smell him. Audra backed away, wrinkling her nose in defence against the man's scent. He smelled like the ever-present pindan dust on the mainland, overlaid with sweat from walking outside in the humidity, with a tantalising top note from the frangipani soap in the bathroom, reminding her of what she'd seen there. Her eyes strayed to the front of his pants.

  His hand slid into view, covering his crotch. "I'll give it to you if you admit you want it."

  For an insane instant, she considered it. Considered giving in to her own teenage desires to get up close and personal with a rock star. But she wasn't at high school any more. "Mr Felix, that's a lovely offer and I truly appreciate it, but I'm in the middle of my work shift. I have a lot to do today." Like round up all the robotic vacuum cleaners in the other villas. She prayed she wouldn't have to chase any under the bed.

  "Working. Of course." His smile said he thought it was a joke. "When do you get off? I want to be there when you do."

  Him and his bloody double-entendres. Sleazy, persistent, arrogant rock star. "Sorry, Mr Felix, but staff don't fraternise with guests. It's against the rules." She flashed a professional smile. "I have other guests to see to. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call Reception. They'll be happy to help." She forced her steps to remain confident as she walked out the front door, down the stairs and into Pinctada. When the door closed behind her, she pressed her back against it and slid to the floor.

  Why did it have to be him? The image of male perfection she'd admired in his posters and music videos, dreaming that one day she'd get to meet him and maybe, just maybe, she'd know one night of bliss in his arms. That's what the press said about Jay Felix – there were dozens of stories about girls he'd loved intensely for one night. Never more than one night. Like the king in the Arabian Nights – one night with his queen and the next morning she'd perish. Not that Jay was known for killing women. No, he left them very much alive and singing his praises. Every high school girl the world over wanted to be the one to cure him of his tomcatting ways, to be the Scheherazade to tame him. She wondered if she'd have been as enamoured of him if she'd known his idea of seduction included staring at a girl's breasts as he casually asked to be fucked. Or that his equipment rivalled that of the Brahman bulls over on the mainland. He probably rutted like one, too. Mm, how romantic.

  She laughed until tears rolled down her face. As a teenager, she'd have given anything for what had just happened, swearing and all. But now? She wondered if the veterinarian in town who offered half-price neutering would take a human tomcat. His sister had the right idea. She wouldn't sleep with him if he was the last man on Earth.

  SEVEN

  "Audra!" someone shouted.

  She switched off the vacuum cleaner, dragging her eyes away from the sweaty, well-muscled man bench-pressing by the window. "Yes?"

  The personal trainer lowered his voice. "Message for you from Reception. One of your guests needs help with the TV."

  Her guests? Since when did she have her own guests? And didn't Engineering or IT normally handle technology issues? "What room?"

  Serge pointed to his ID. "Villa Maxima."

  Audra checked her wrist and, sure enough, Maxima scrolled across the ID display. Of course. Mr Rock Star needed a maid to turn on his television, most likely. Couldn't press the buttons himself because he didn't know how. Probably couldn't even find them.

  "Get him to call Engineering," she said, reaching for the vacuum's power button without even glancing at it.

  "The Pearls get maid service. Jackie used to complain about it, too. VIPs can't call tech support on their own. That's what you're for." Serge shrugged. The movement flexed his arm muscles and put the bench-presser to shame. "Can you see if any of them need a personal trainer this week? Or a fitness class? I'm low on bookings and i
f they don't pick up, Adam won't need an assistant any more. I'll have to go back to the farm, working sixteen-hour days again. Not to mention I won't get enough hours to be certified so I can leave the farm forever. If one of the VIPs requests daily yoga or pilates or personal training..." He looked hopeful.

  Someone else who desperately wanted out of the life family and fate had forced upon him. How could she refuse? "I'll see what I can do," Audra replied. "You could always suggest wellness classes for staff, or let them attend the guest programmes. I know Pamela would love a yoga class and Penny complains daily that she can't do some sort of dance fitness programme here." She found Serge staring at her. "What?"

  "If I get approval for staff classes, would you be there?"

  She knew that look, but she blushed anyway. "Maybe, if my roster allows. And this VIP doesn't want to tie me up in his room for the duration of his stay. If I'm not in the staff dining room at six, can you come rescue me?"

  Serge grinned. "Gladly."

  Audra tucked the vacuum cleaner into the gym's cleaning cupboard and set out through the jungle to Villa Maxima. Flying fish skimmed across the lagoon and she wished she owned a camera good enough to catch them at play. One day, she promised herself. One day she'd earn enough money to come here as a guest on holiday with an SLR camera. But that day would be a long time coming.

  She reached the door and paused to take a deep breath. Patience, calm and don't kill the VIP, she told herself. Then she rapped on the frosted glass door. "Maid service, Mr Felix."

  "It's open."

  It wasn't, so she swiped her wristband, waiting for the intercom to beep as it had earlier.

  The door hissed open. Audra swallowed her surprise and strode inside. She should be used to automatic doors by now.