Take Me

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Take Me Page 2

by Gracia Ford


  As I sit, I feel Ms. Walker’s gaze drilling into me. I want to ask her if there’s something wrong. She feels like a hard woman, a woman who isn’t easily pleased. She’d scanned me from head to toe before even introducing herself. Part of me had felt it was rude, but I was here for her evaluate me, wasn’t I? She was elegantly dressed in a peach suit that matched the color of her skin tone, and she was very formal and polite. Still, those small brown eyes of hers felt like they possessed X-ray vision.

  I had struggled to choose an outfit today, but I’d ultimately put on the simple black shift dress I’d worn to Paul´s funeral. I thought it was appropriate, as his death had signaled the end of one era and a new beginning for Kara and me. Nerves had kicked in when we arrived at the building and were shown up to the penthouse by the doorman. That was when I started to feel cheap, like I was out of my league.

  I felt a sadness enter the room as Ms. Walker sat down and started to tell me about her brother´s late wife. She had died after giving birth. She hadn’t been well at the time, although Ms. Walker didn’t say why. I knew from Sylvia that she’d been anorexic. Her family had hoped her pregnancy would give her a new lease on life, but it had only made things worse. She was so thin throughout the pregnancy that they’d feared for the baby. Her heart had stopped beating during her son’s disastrous C-section birth. They’d managed to revive him, but he’d spent several weeks in the hospital.

  Ms. Walker spoke about my duties, which strangely enough entailed everything except actual cleaning. Silvia had told me about that, of course, but I still found it hard to believe that a housekeeper wouldn’t be expected to do any cleaning. Instead, the bulk of my duties would entail making sure that everything was in order in the homes in New York. They had this penthouse, which they tended to reside in only during the week, and their main house at Sands Point, which is where my daughter and I would live a bungalow on the property. I would be required to visit the penthouse at least twice a week, to ensure that cleaning staff was in line, schedules were kept up to date, and the gardening was completed. I would be more of a checking person, that everything has been completed by the other staff and the main caregiver for Edward.

  To ensure that I was paying attention, she paused several times and asked me to repeat what she’d said, treating me like I was a child. I didn’t hear any footsteps, but I could tell when someone entered the room behind me because her demeanor changed instantly. I assumed it was her nephew since there hadn’t been any sound, but when I swiveled around to look, I saw someone very different. . .

  I watched as he walked slowly toward us, losing myself in his emerald green eyes. He smelled like musk, I noticed. She stood and watched him with what appeared to be disgust, and I felt uncomfortable in their presence. I wished Sylvia would return, but I knew she wouldn’t. She’d told me that she wanted to give us a chance to become acquainted.

  “Simon Walker, and you are?” he asks politely as he approaches me, stretching out his hand for a formal shake.

  “Chloe Evans,” I reply shyly, standing up. His sister is watching me now with curiosity. I don’t blame her. The man in front of me is indescribably good looking. I have never before met a man with this much grace and stature. I can’t believe that Sylvia had worked for him for years without ever telling me that he was this fine. No, that was not even the right word to describe him; he was so much more than that.

  His towering height, his voice—stern, yet gentle—and his soft hands . . . it’s all too much. I want to put cream on my own hands because they feel rough in comparison.

  I feel like a sixteen-year-old kid, all dreamy-eyed as I watch him walk away from me so he can kiss his sister on her cheek. I find my gaze moving to his lips, memorized by their softness. I start to fantasize about what it would feel like to have a man who turned heads everywhere he went. He had mine spinning, and I wasn’t one to notice every man who passed by since my marriage to Paul. With Simon you couldn’t help but notice. . .

  I had a rude awakening when Ms. Walker remembered my presence and dismissed me like a child. “You can sit down!” she all but shouted.

  I shook my head, embarrassed by my actions, while Simon laughed. “Yes, my brother seems to have that effect on women,” she blurted out as she looked at me. I could tell she was no longer sure if hiring me was a good idea. This is what I sensed, and then she whispered it to her brother, loud enough for me to hear.

  “Sorry, I was just distracted. I think it would be good for Kara and your son to meet. Sorry, what is his name?”

  “Edward,” Simon said gently. I could tell that working here was going to be more difficult than I’d thought. If I could convince the Walkers to hire me, I would have to bury my attraction to Simon in the back of my mind. The problem was that he never once took his eyes off me, even as he spoke to his sister, and I started to wonder if the attraction went both ways. If so, then this could get tricky. A housekeeper and a billionaire, I thought, then dismissed the idea as ludicrous.

  Chapter Six

  “Simon, the figures are ready. Not sure if you’ve finished in here?” Silvia asked as she entered the room. I was relieved to see her. I checked my watch and realized that I had been in there for over an hour with Ms. Walker, going through all of the housekeeper’s duties. Then, while she and Simon were talking, she had asked me to fill out a background questionnaire. Her questions were brisk and efficient, but I sensed that she knew everything about me anyway.

  Funny, Silvia got to call him Simon, but Ms. Walker had never even told me her first name. She’d introduced herself as Ms. Walker without offering an alternative. Even after I told her that she should refer to me as Chloe. She nodded toward Silvia, as if giving me permission to leave the penthouse with my sister. How kind! .

  Simon brushed past me as I stood up to leave. I smiled at my sister, pleased that she’d come to save me. Just then, Simon held out his hand to me and gently pulled me forward to whisper in my ear, “Nice meeting you, Chloe.”

  I went red. Someone save me. I hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with him, and now I was red and excited. How the heck does Silvia work with him on a day-to-day basis? I would not be able to contain myself, but now I didn’t have much of a choice.

  It felt like a done deal, even though Ms. Walker appeared less than pleased with me. I was set to start in a week. I needed to undergo some training in my duties. After that, I would move into the bungalow with Kara and start my job. I was so impressed with the penthouse, and I couldn’t wait to see the main house and my own bungalow. The salary was attractive, and I’d also been assured that I wouldn´t have to worry about schooling. Kara would attend the same school as Edward, which meant she’d have the best private education. Silvia had been right—what was there to think about?

  We were about to leave the music room when Ms. Walker requested a moment alone with me. I dreaded to think what she might have to say. Was there some rule she’d forgotten to mention? Or had she changed her mind after all?

  Once we were alone, she pinned me with a hard look. “Mrs. Evans,” she started, “you are being hired as the housekeeper, to look after my brother and his son. Nothing more, nothing less. I did a background check before you arrived today. I know about your past and present situation. If not for your sister’s recommendation, you would not have been hired. Do I make myself clear?”

  She was insinuating I had an ulterior motive; I was either after her brother, or their money. I wanted to tell her to shove the job up her posh ass, but instead thought about everything it would do for Kara and me. Finally, I said, “As daylight.”

  She seemed pleased with my response, but I didn’t wait around for another moment. I walked out quickly to join my sister. As I reached her I grabbed her arm and said, “Quick, let’s get out of here before she turns me into a frog.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Time to celebrate,” Silvia said as we took the elevator back to the ground floor. I hated the way Ms. Walker had treated me, like I was beneath her.
She did have a lot of money, but it didn´t mean she had the right to make people feel that way.

  “Well, don´t look too excited,” my sister groaned as she stared at our reflection in the mirror. I hated mirrors in elevators sometimes; this one made me feel small and self-conscious about my outfit. A plain cotton dress in comparison to the high-powered suit of Ms. Walker? Hmm, my sister was wearing a red suit that didn’t look too different from the matriarch’s. I felt cheap and hard done by, so I said, “Did you see the way she looked at me?”

  “Yes, and I saw the way you looked at him. He is her brother and she is protective of him, so remember what your role in this household will be,” she scolds me. She seemed to be forgetting that I had only ever been with one man. It wasn’t like I was going to sneak into Simon Walker´s bed in the middle of the night. Then again, if he showed up in my bed . . . Heck, I´m only human, so of course I wouldn´t say no.

  I grabbed her arm, trying to wrest her attention away from her own reflection. When had my sister become so vain? In fact, now that I think about it, she was different there. She felt like someone I didn´t know. Shoot, the elevator ride was over, but I wasn’t going to let the conversation die. I needed to know, before as I suspected she went her own way.

  “How the hell have you never told me that you working for the most gorgeous, no beautiful, no sexy man alive?”

  “Stop. I just don´t see him that way. He´s my boss.”

  I had never realized my sister was blind; or was he just not her type? Maybe she actually liked women, and that was why she was blind to Simon Walker’s charms. I realized she’d never introduced us to a boyfriend. And she never talked about men, either. She mostly just talked about hanging out with the girls or all the work she had to do.

  “The only reason, you wouldn´t notice that Simon is too hot for words is if you’re rooting for the other side,” I poked and teased her as the elevator continued its slow descent.

  As we walk through the building hallway the doorman gives us a sly look. We continue to walk outside when she exclaims, “I´m not gay. He´s my boss, and I know how to separate business and pleasure.” Well, maybe she’s not gay, but any woman who couldn’t see how sexy Simon Walker was had to be dead in all departments. Could Sylvia have a secret boyfriend? Perhaps that was why she was so worried about her appearance. Maybe she had plans to meet someone.

  ***

  My hunch was correct. As soon as we hailed down a taxi to the train station, she told me that she had somewhere to be and kissed me and congratulated me again on getting the job. In reality, I wasn’t sure what I had done to get the job apart from lusting after Simon Walker, then getting told off by my sister and his. Both of them had insinuated that I needed to keep my lustful eyes to myself. The thing is, though, he had looked at me that way, too—I knew it, and I was kind of insulted that no one else seemed to have picked up on it.

  “You getting out?” I say as I pass the taxi man his money, get out, and start digging in my bag for my cell. I’m so sure I had put it back in my bag when. . .

  “You left this on the table,” someone says from behind me. I would have recognized that voice anywhere, and the light tap he gave my shoulder spread warmth throughout my body.

  I look up, scared to find myself lost in Simon Walker’s eyes once again. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, my heart beating at twice its normal speed as I gazed into his eyes.

  “Your phone.”

  Oh, I left my damn phone at the Walker house. But how had he found me here?

  “How did you know I would be here?” I manage to stammer out.

  “I told your sister about your phone, and she told me you’d caught a cab to the train station.” He laughs as he hands it to me, maybe because I couldn’t verbalize the words to thank him. What is it about this man that transforms me into a stumbling, silent fool? He’s everything any woman would desire, that’s it. Stop it, Chloe!

  We gaze into each other´s eyes until a passerby knocks into me and I drop my phone. I try to recover what’s left of it, cursing under my breath all the while, and he helps me. I rush under people´s legs and finally recover the remains of my cell. I stand up to see that not only has he stopped helping me, but he’s been closely watching my performance of being on all fours in the middle of a busy Manhattan street.

  My whole body flushes.

  “I’m sorry,” he says with a smile. “I know all about women and their phones. I think the least I can do is take you home.”

  I sigh and try to catch my breath. “But I live in Jersey.”

  He holds out his hand, and this is when I notice the limo is parked on the curb, waiting for his return. Holy smokes, I’d be traveling in style. This is too good to be true, and it made me forget all about my phone.

  I hesitate, though, thinking about the words of warning I’d received today. I shrug. “Maybe this isn´t a good idea. I mean, I just got the job as your housekeeper. I’m so grateful you brought my phone to me, but I can´t understand why. You´re rich, so you could have sent someone else with it. Like your driver, who’s standing there waiting for you to get back into the car. And then I dropped the phone before I could even thank you...”

  “Shhh, do you always talk this much? No reason to overthink it. I’m just going to give you a lift home, so why don’t you take a deep breath and jump in the car?” He nods gently as if trying to spoon feed a toddler for the first time.

  I start to relax for the first time all day. For a split second, I feel human again, but then I get into the car and the speechless, childlike fool takes over again. This is amazing; with a car like this, why would anyone want to get out? I run my hand over the buttery leather seats, which feel unbelievably smooth to the touch. I look up at the lights in the roof, which seem to adapt to the lighting outside or something. They probably have a remote sensor switch. I’m taken aback by the fact I was in a car and not a hotel room or something.

  It dawns on me at that this sort of luxury would become the norm for me from now on. I need to prepare myself and not look on with wide eyes every time I see something like this limo. “Would you like a drink?” Simon asks.

  I squint as I realize there’s a minibar in the car. How cool? Sure, I knew they existed in limos, but until you climbed into one and were offered a drink, it was impossible to understand the implications. I mean a fully-stocked fridge in a car?

  “Should I take it as a no?”

  Learn to speak, you can do it. He’s only human after all. Speak woman, speak.

  “Yes, please. I’ll have a Coke,” I say. I’m thrilled I managed to say something. I’d even been polite and courteous. I just hadn’t looked at him when I said it. That had to be the trick. Maybe we could have a whole conversation if I just learned to avoid those emerald eyes.

  “Zero, light, caffeine free?”

  “Sorry?” Damn, I looked at him, and now I’m the stumbling fool once again. I watch him take out a glass and fill it with soda. He hands me the tumbler and, as I start to drink, I realize we’re moving. This whole time, I had thought we were at a standstill. He must have given the driver my address before I even got in the car.

  “Look!” he blurts out. I turn to face him, confused about the line of conversation and why we have gone from soft and gentle to demanding. “I’m your boss, yes, but I can´t take it if you´re going to behave this way with me. What I am trying to say is – if you’re going to live in my house, you need to be able to act naturally around me. . . I’m a human being, just like you.”

  I stare at the floor, processing his statement, and realize he’s right. Completely right. He is undeniably a fine-looking specimen of a man, but I was behaving like this for a different reason. I was having a hard time dealing with the change in my circumstances. I’m a teacher at heart, but I’m going to be housekeeper now. That’s part of why I was letting myself believe these people were better than me. I nod and sigh—I mean, what else can I do?

  “Let´s start again.” He takes the glass from me
and puts it into one of the cup holders. He reaches out a hand and says, “My name is Simon Walker. Nice to meet you.”

  I laugh and say, “My name is Chloe Evans, and the pleasure is all mine.”

  As I do this, his cell starts to ring. He picks it up quickly and answers in the same exacting tone he’d used on me a few minutes ago. I listen as he conducts his business call, wondering what he’s like in the boardroom, whether he dealt with employees and other business contacts in that same authoritative manner.

  Yes, he seems like a person who could and would switch into business-mode at any moment. One thing is for sure, I know from the conversations I had with Sylvia that he was—and would always be—a workaholic.

  He had taken over the family business, and he was not going to let anyone turn to him and say he’d made a disaster of it. And, truly, no one could. He’d grown the business to ten times its former size. The problem was that it was unwieldy for one person to manage such a large empire—he needed to be everywhere all the time.

  “So, where were we?” he asks after he gets off the phone. I was busy looking at the view and thinking about the chance in my circumstances.

  “You were about to tell me about Edward.” I smile as I reach for my Coke and start to drink it in small sips.

  He frowns and looks at me. “No, I wasn´t. But, what would you like to know?”

  Is he as good-looking as you? Why is he so reserved, what happened to make him behave that way? Oh, but the main question I wanted to ask was, Why is your sister such a bitch?

  Instead, I ask, “What does he like?”

  “I don´t know.”

  Did he say he didn’t know? No, I just imagined it. I was about to open my mouth to ask him what he meant, when he pulled out his phone to make a call. Moments later, his laptop appeared, as if by magic, and he started speaking in another language with whomever had answered the phone.

 

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