Billionaire Vacation

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Billionaire Vacation Page 35

by Nella Tyler


  I didn't know what to do. I didn't necessarily want to ignore his call because let's face it; I was curious about what he wanted to say. At the same time, I wasn't sure I was ready to talk to him. I decided to let the call go to voicemail. After five or six rings, the cell phone stopped ringing. I waited. A few moments later, I heard the notification ding to alert me that a voicemail had been left.

  I sat in my car for several more minutes, just staring down at the phone. I continued to weigh the pros and cons of working at Luke's house, about what we had done, and about what might happen if I continued, or didn't continue, working for him. Realizing that I was giving myself nothing but an increasing headache, I finally got out of the car and entered my condo.

  The house was cool and quiet. I still held the cell phone in my hand. Placing my purse on the small table by the door, I wandered over to my couch and sat down. I could drive myself crazy trying to figure out what kind of a message he left, but at this point, did it really matter? Should I listen to it or just delete it? That was just it. I hadn't decided what I wanted to do yet, and I didn't want to deal with the voicemail until I had decided. Then again, maybe I had to listen to the voicemail in order to determine my decision.

  Chapter 4

  I don't know how long I sat there in the quiet of my condo, turning the cell phone over and over in my hand. As I did, my thoughts replayed just about every instant of everything that had occurred since Luke had opened his door to me that first day. Despite Samantha's cautioning words, which I knew were rational and logical, I nevertheless continued to feel an overwhelming attraction and pull toward the new billionaire. The entire situation had me delving deep into my thoughts and emotions on a level that I had never been forced to explore before.

  My phone rang again, startling me. I glanced at the screen, thinking that it might be Samantha, but it was Luke calling again. As with the first time he had called, I didn't answer the phone. My heart nevertheless thudded in my chest and my pulse accelerated. Once again, I let the phone ring, go silent, and moments later, heard another ding announcing another voicemail.

  I sat, resisting the urge to listen to the voicemails right away. I didn’t want his message, regardless of what he said, to sway me. If he fired me outright, well, that would take care of that. However…

  Rather, I focused on contemplating the benefits and drawbacks of either staying on with Luke or quitting. I didn't like the thought of quitting. I had never been a quitter before. Then again, I had never behaved the way I had with Luke, and most especially with someone who was still a practical stranger. That was a deep contemplation that would have to wait for another time. I had a more immediate decision to make.

  I couldn't imagine what the voicemail messages were about. Was he calling to apologize or would he tell me that I was fired? Worse yet, would he turn into a creep and threaten to tell everyone he knew about what I had done, how easy I had been? I didn't want to think something like that about Luke, but Samantha's words kept turning over in my mind. I didn't know the guy. For all I knew he could be a stalker or a clingy kind of guy who now, because I'd slept with him, figured he owned me. That sent a shiver of dread down my spine.

  What had I done? My lack of judgment could cause very serious ramifications now and well into the future. I wasn't naïve. I watched enough TV shows to know that relationships could be incredibly complicated. Some of the worst could end in violence. While I certainly hadn't gotten the impression that Luke was like that, how could I know? I didn't know what he did up in his office most of the time. That was just it. I didn't know. I guess the only way I would figure that out would be to either ask him or sneak around behind his back and do some digging into his history and background. Neither thought appealed to me at the moment.

  I guess it all came down to how I felt about myself. My reason for making certain decisions. My acceptance that if I made a mistake, I would have no one to blame but myself and, therefore, I would have to take full responsibility. I kept wavering back and forth. The minutes passed, and then a quarter hour, and then before I knew it, I had been sitting there on the couch for a half an hour just trying to decide whether to listen to Luke's messages or delete them. Finally, with a grimace of disgust at my inability to make a decision, I pressed a couple of buttons on my phone and accessed my voicemail.

  "You have two messages," the female robotic voice on the other end informed me.

  I swallowed. Then, I heard a Luke's deep voice.

  "Molly, we need to talk." Pause. "I want you to know that I didn't mean for what I said to come out the way it did. I realize now how it must have sounded to you, and to be honest, I can't believe I actually said something like that." Pause. "Please let me make it up to you, okay? I just want to-"

  He ran out of time. That's why he'd call back a second time. I took a deep breath and exhaled, and then pressed the button for the next message. "I just want you to know that I'm not some scuzzball employer who goes around sleeping with the help. It wasn't just sex to me, Molly," he spoke quietly, somberly. "I don't want this to sound creepy or anything, but I feel a connection to you…” Pause. "What I would like, to be perfectly honest with you, is a relationship. Just give me a call, okay?"

  The call disconnected. So he did realize that he might've come across in a less than stellar manner, I thought. He wanted a relationship. Did I? I had to ask myself the question. If Luke hadn't been so good looking, would I be interested in developing a relationship with him? Would I even be contemplating such a situation, especially in his position as my employer and me as his employee, his maid?

  His broaching or even hinting at developing a relationship between us just proved to me his naivety regarding his position. Didn't he have anyone to counsel him, to show them the ropes? Could he really be floundering so much with his sudden riches and position in life that he didn't realize the firm yet invisible boundary between employer and employee, especially in these situations? Then again, I hadn't exactly done my part, either. If I had been sensible, I would have declined all of his invitations; donning that bathing suit, swimming in the pool, accepting the drinks, and worse yet, accepting that first date. I shouldn't have allowed him to ply me with drinks, or to kiss me, much less make love to me.

  Make love? No, we had had sex, just sex. And now he was telling me he wanted more? Why? Why me? I suppose that the only answer I could get to that question would have to come from him, but at the moment, I didn't understand it. I was just a maid. He could have his pick of women in Raleigh’s society, especially now with the amount of money he obviously had. I wished I could call Samantha, tell her about the phone messages, but decided I’d better not. She’d probably blow a gasket. I already knew how she felt about the situation. I felt alone and quite uncertain.

  If I returned his call, I might be giving him the wrong impression, unless I decided I did want to develop a relationship with him. Then again, if I didn't return his call, I figured I was letting him know in no uncertain terms that I wanted nothing to do with him. What about my job? It wasn't just about the ability to prove to myself or my father that I could earn a steady paycheck doing just about anything. It was also about my self-esteem, my self-confidence, whether I wanted to admit that or not.

  I wanted to prove to myself that I could do anything I set out to do. It didn’t matter whether it was a teaching position, a waitress, a maid, or anything in between. I wanted to know, in no uncertain terms, that I could support myself, by myself, in life. While I doubted that it would ever come to that, I had no idea for sure. But still, I needed a purpose in life. Teaching seemed to be an admirable purpose. Was being a maid an admirable purpose? For now, I admitted, it was. It was a job – nothing more and nothing less. That I couldn’t earn enough as a maid to support myself at the moment was beside the point. No, I didn’t have a car payment or a rent or mortgage payment. Still, my wages as a maid would barely cover my living expenses.

  So, I would cut back on a few luxuries. I would create a budget. Just like
everyone else. If I had to tighten my belt, I could, and would. I just wanted to know that I had the gumption and the determination to do so.

  I knew how silly I sounded. I wasn't self-conscious about who I was. Up until recently, I had the utmost confidence in my abilities and my intelligence. Just because I couldn't find a job right now as a teacher didn't mean that I wouldn't, or couldn't, in the near future. I knew I had to be patient. Was I discouraged? Yes. Was I disappointed? Of course. In that regard, perhaps I had been naïve, as well. I had done my time at college, worked hard to get my education, received my diploma and graduated, with honors no less, and I had assumed that I would walk through those doors and have a job the next day.

  When I sent in my first application for the position of a high school history teacher, I had figured I would receive a call within a day or two. "You're hired!" I had imagined that they would gush about my accomplishments in college, my good grades, my excellent GPA, my extracurricular activities, blah, blah, blah.

  To my surprise, I hadn't heard anything back the following day, or the following week, and that's when I realized that I had to work a little bit harder to get what I wanted. I think overall I had sent two-dozen applications to schools in this and neighboring districts, but all I had received so far were a few invitations to interview. Those have gone nowhere. Since then, silence.

  My father had suggested that he would pull some strings. After all, he knew people, he said. I had refused his offer. I didn't want him to help me get a job. I wanted to do it all by myself. Now look where I was. I had been hired as a maid. Was I ashamed or embarrassed about that? Not at all. It was gainful employment, but I was disappointed that my plans hadn't exactly proceeded as I had thought they would.

  I had had several disagreements with my father since my graduation from college about the dearth of jobs in the local school districts. He had even suggested my relocating. He could set me up in any city I wanted, but I loved Raleigh. I didn't want to move. My family, my life, my memories, and my friends were here. Everything was familiar to me. To be honest, though, I had to admit that the thought of moving scared me more than a little. While I wanted and craved independence, I didn't want to expand my horizons that fast. I wasn’t that adventurous! Yes, I wanted to be on my own and make my own way in life, but I wanted to do so one step at a time, at my own pace.

  My father had been extremely disgruntled when he discovered that I was putting in applications outside of the school district. He had blustered quite a bit that if I would just let him, he could secure me a position in one of the schools in the Raleigh area with a phone call. He couldn’t seem to understand why I refused. The last time I had spoken to him, the conversation had not ended on the most pleasant of terms. I regretted that, really I did, because I loved my parents very much. I appreciated everything they did for me, had done for me. At the same time, I couldn't understand why he couldn't grasp the fact that I needed to do this on my own.

  So what to do about Luke? Should I call Samantha? Ask for advice again? No. I knew what she would say. She would say end it. Quit. Cut the cord. Turn my back and walk – no, run away before more damage could be done.

  I couldn't. I absolutely refused to give up so easily. Admit it, I told myself. You are attracted to Luke. If you weren't in this situation, you would want to get to know him better. So what difference did it make that I was his maid? Maybe, if I told him the truth… no, I didn't want to do that. Would he still be attracted to me if he knew about my background, about my history? I knew that it didn't matter to me where he came from. But would it matter to him? I could've cared less if he’d grown up privileged, on the “wrong side of the tracks,” or anywhere in between. That he was rich now also made no difference to me.

  As far as he was concerned, I was a college graduate unable to find a job. I had accepted the job as a maid, a job that didn’t require any particular skills, education, or knowledge base. He’d pretty much handed the job over to me without any guidelines whatsoever. Anyone could be a maid, I thought, and he probably thought so, too. Did he think he was doing me some kind of favor? If I weren’t attractive, as Samantha said, would he have glanced at me twice?

  What did Luke want with me, other than the obvious, of course? Why would a man in his position want to develop a relationship with his maid? My mind went around and around and around, asking myself these questions over and over and over again. My head throbbing, I finally closed my eyes and stretched out on the sofa, so confused. I tried to think of anything else. I needed to do my laundry. I needed to go run some errands. I couldn't do anything, though, but lie on the couch and try and figure out what exactly Luke wanted. More importantly, what did I want?

  *

  I woke up with a crick in my neck, confused for several moments. It was almost dark outside, the last rays of sunset casting a dull glow through my living room. I realized I'd fallen asleep on the couch. The phone lay on my stomach, my hand grasping it as if it were my lifeline. It all came back to me in a rush. I groaned and slowly sat up, realizing that I had to get this over with. I had to make a decision, one way or the other, and be willing to deal, and live with, the ramifications.

  Staring down at the phone, I accessed my voicemail messages and listened to them again. Then, taking a deep breath, I pressed the “return call” button. My heart rate accelerated. I was nervous, although I didn't know exactly why. I felt butterflies in my stomach. The phone rang three, four, then five times. I was just trying to decide what I would say in my own voicemail message when the call was answered.

  "Molly?"

  "Yes, it's me." I said nothing for a moment. Then I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Luke, did you put your contact information into my phone?" He didn't say anything. "I'm not sure how I feel about that…"

  "I'm sorry," he said. "That was intrusive and presumptuous of me. Thank you for calling me back. I- I've done a lot of thinking today, and I realized that I probably overstepped my bounds as an employer. I may be new at this, but I do know that there are boundaries between employers and employees. Those boundaries exist everywhere, not just among the elite."

  "Luke-"

  "No," he interrupted gently. "Let me finish. Let me apologize."

  I sat back on the couch, my relief growing that at least he did understand that we had crossed a line. Where it went from here was not only up to him, but also to me.

  "I don't care if I am your employer, Molly, and I don't care if you're my maid. I don't care if I have money and you don't… I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm attracted to you. I would be attracted to you no matter what you did for a living."

  He thought I was poor. I wondered if I should tell him the truth, but before I could open my mouth, he pressed on.

  "Molly, like I said in my voicemail, I want you to know that as far as I'm concerned, it's not just about sex…although the sex was great."

  I heard the humor in his voice and smiled. I thought so, too.

  "I also know how important reputation is, and I want you to know that I won't do anything to smudge your reputation. I can be very discreet. We can be discreet, but one thing I know for sure is that I do want to get to know you better. There's something about you Molly that pulls me to you like that old cliché about a moth being drawn to a flame. I honestly have to tell you that I don't understand it because I've never felt this way about somebody."

  He paused for several moments. Funny, I was thinking the same.

  "I don't want to come across as creepy," he said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I'm not a stalker, I'm not clingy, I'm not a pervert, and I'm not a creep. What I am, however, is incredibly attracted to you, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. So, here's my question for you. Will you give me another chance to prove to you that I'm interested in more than a romp in bed, as enjoyable as that romp might have been? Do you think we can get the chance to know each other a little better?"

  I said nothing for a moment. Should I or shouldn't I? I quickly ran through Samantha's a
rgument in my head, but then decided that like everything I had decided since I left school, I had to make my own way. If I made a mistake, so be it.

  "Molly?"

  "I'm here," I said. "I'd like to get to know you better, too, Luke," I admitted. For a moment, he didn't say anything, and I wondered if he was surprised. When he spoke, his voice sounded much lighter than it had before.

  "That's great, Molly, I'm glad to hear it. I don't want you to worry about anything. Like I said, we can be discreet."

  "So where do we go from here?"

  "You still want to work for me? Do you still want to be my maid?"

  Hell yes. "I'd like to, Luke," I replied honestly. I guess sometimes a person just needs to take a chance, and I was willing to take a chance with him. If I got hurt, it would be on me. If I didn't take a chance, I might never know what might have happened. That would be on me, as well.

  "Can I see you tomorrow?"

  "I suppose so," I said. "It is my official day off," I said, with a small laugh.

  "I'm going to win you over, I'm telling you that right now,” he promised. “Tomorrow we'll have a fun-filled day, and we'll get to know each other a little better. I want you to know that you taking a chance on me means a lot."

  I murmured an agreement. He was taking a chance on me, as well. That was the way of relationships, wasn’t it? Putting yourself out there, willing to risk sharing yourself with another person, and risking hurt along the way?

  "I'll tell you what, Molly," he said. “I'm going to court you, the old-fashioned way."

  "What?" I wasn't sure what he meant.

  "Don't you worry about a thing, Molly. I have a nice day planned, and you'll be pleasantly surprised." He paused. "Deal?"

  "Deal." An awkward silence came between us for a moment, and then I heard him clear his throat.

  "I have to go now, but I'll send my driver for you at about noon tomorrow, okay? No, I'll come pick you up. Will that be all right with you?"

 

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