Richard - Page 69

“Look, Preston… I know for you, this isn’t a big deal, but I don’t have any options or money. I’ll be lucky to find a job before the month’s over. That’s what I have to focus on now. Keeping this place, as much of a shit hole as it is, and putting food on my table. Those have to be my priorities. You understand, don’t you?”

He nodded slowly. “Of course I do. But I do want to see you again, and Monday would be best.”

I put my key in the door to open it. “I’ll try to find a way.” It was the best I could offer him.

As I stepped inside, Preston put his hand on the door to keep me from closing it. Then he presented me with an offer of his own.

“That’s the thing, though, Maddy. I want to see you Monday in my office. I want you to be my new PA.”

I turned around and stared at him. I was sure my jaw was dangling open, but the shock of it had left me so numb that I could have been on fire and would have missed it. “You’re… serious?”

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe with another wolfish grin. “Absolutely. You’ve got the qualifications. You have a great work history, I’m sure. And I’m in need of a new girl anyway. You can start first thing on Monday after you’ve taken some time to relax over the weekend. In fact…” He reached into his pocket and took out a checkbook. “I’m happy to offer you a signing bonus for accepting the job on such short notice. What do you say, Maddy—how does a bit of good, old-fashioned nepotism sound to you?”

I could hardly believe what he was saying. My entire life, family had been a distant notion for me. It was something I barely entertained as worthwhile, something I’d grown to consider as simply the framework for one’s genetic identity. My mother hadn’t so much raised me as reared and resented me, and my father had barely known me when he took off with some other woman, leaving me in the dust of his memories. I’d never seen so much as a birthday card from him in all the years he’d been gone. I had no idea if he was even still alive.

Everything I’d ever wanted, I’d had to get myself or go without. There were no exceptions. When all the other kids were having birthday parties, I was sitting at home thankful that my mother had bothered to prepare my favorite dinner. Presents were few and far between and came mainly from aunts and uncles, which my mother always derided as “spoiling” me. The only gift I remembered her giving me was a dragonfly broach when I was nine, and I’d treasured it fiercely right up until the moment I’d found out she’d regifted it to me after receiving it from a friend. I was only worth her trash, her leavings, and after that, the broach had sparkled a little less for me.

But now Preston, a man I hardly knew, a brother in name only—and that wasn’t even official yet—was writing me a check on my stoop and ready to give me so much more than that. He was offering me peace of mind, prosperity, and a way out of the dismal hell hole I’d spent so much of my life in. For the first time, a family member wanted to take care of me, and I had no earthly idea what to do.

Preston must have seen my confusion, because he handed me the check with his business card attached and waved his hand. “Don’t answer now. Just come in Monday. If you’re not interested, at least we can have another lunch together. If you are, we’ll get started right away.”

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, staring at the multitude of zeroes tacked on to the check. My hands were shaking. “You must want something in return…?”

Preston’s face fell. He looked almost as bewildered as I felt. He shook his head very slowly, looking right in my eyes as he said, “Just your happiness, Maddy. That is the only thing I could want.”

Then he left me, closing the door while I stood in the entryway, still gazing down at the ten thousand dollar check in my hands. He’d given me a lot to think about.

The whole drive home, I couldn’t help but to think about Maddy.

She had looked so utterly confused when I’d handed her that check, like she had no idea what simple kindness was. Given who her mother was, I could see why, but it had hit me harder than anticipated. Had she never had anyone stick up for her before? Had no one ever helped her up when she’d fallen down?

I couldn’t imagine a world like that, or at least, not in that sense. I’d always had people around to attend to every whim and desire, except for my father, who could barely entertain my mere presence at times. In that way, I knew what it was like to have a parent who seemingly hated you, who was always disappointed and never uttered a word of praise. Whenever I did well by his impossible standards, there was only relief on his face, never pride. I’d given up on attempting to sway my father’s opinion of me a long time ago, but I realized that not everyone had that luxury.

Maddy seemed like such a strong girl. When she wasn’t crying, I could see this fire in her eyes. When she snapped at me, I could hear that same flame in her voice. There was one hell of a woman deep down in there, but it was hard to see when she’d had such an impenetrable cage built around herself.

That wasn’t her fault, of course. She was the victim of those with power, the ones like my father who chose to hurt people instead of using his immense wealth to make them better. She’d only ever been able to spread her wings as far as her circumstances would allow.

But I wanted to change that. I wanted to set Maddy free and see her full potential. Something inside me told me that if I did, it would be impossibly beautiful.

It was strange, though, that I cared so much. I wasn’t a heartless bastard like my father was, but it was rare for me to get attached to anyone, let alone a woman. There was something about knowing you could have any girl you wanted that made the whole game feel less interesting, but something about Maddy was… different. Maybe it was because she was forbidden fruit, or maybe I really did give a shit about family. Whatever it was, I could feel her hooks in me. I wanted more.

I thought about her as the miles ticked by. I thought about her as I waited for the gate to open at my own house. I thought about her as I walked inside, and I thought about her right up until the moment I smelled the most amazing aroma drifting in from the kitchen.

I followed that scent like a bloodhound, my stomach rumbling all the way. Carla, my housekeeper, must have been cooking. The variety of spices was like inhaling a symphony, and my mouth watered as I imagined all the meals she might be making. She was a goddamn artist in the kitchen, and from what I could smell of whatever she was making, this was her masterpiece. Sure, I’d already ate, but that wasn’t going to stop me from indulging myself a second time.

I felt every muscle in my body relaxed the nearer I came to that delicious scent. I tossed my blazer and laptop bag on the sofa as I passed it, loosening a few buttons on my shirt as I rounded the corner into the kitchen, already rolling up my sleeves to prepare for whatever sauce I could hear boiling on the stovetop.

“Goddamn, Carla, that smells—”

I stopped so suddenly that I was sure my organs would fly right out of my body. As it was, my stomach had dropped to my feet. It took several seconds for the sight before me to register, and when it did, it made no more sense than when I’d first walked in and seen it.

Carla was, as anticipated, standing in my kitchen and slaving over a hot stove. She had her dark, frizzy hair pulled back into a bun and her olive skin was aglow with a light sheen of sweat. Her apron was stained where she’d repeatedly wiped her coarse, calloused hands and from the way her back was bent, I could tell she’d had a rough day.

But that wasn’t what surprised me. What did was the person standing next to her, a person who didn’t belong in my house, and certainly not when I wasn’t here.

“Jane, what the hell?”

She turned to me, beaming so brightly it was almost blinding. She had her long, auburn hair braided down her back, and under Carla’s watchful eye, she was adding sweet Marsala to a pan.

“Hey, baby,”

she said. The very sound of it made me cringe. “I thought I’d surprise you. Carla’s teaching me how to cook—it’s veal Marsala. I figured after such a hard day at work, you needed to come home and have a nice, hot meal waiting for you.”

I caught Carla looking at me out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t look happy. I knew her pain.

“Carla usually takes care of that for me,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck in the hope of making my anger dissipate. “That was a nice thought, though, Jane. I just wish you’d told me you were coming over. This is… a surprise.”

Jane smiled sweetly. “That’s the point, silly.” Then she left the stove—and any pretense of learning to cook—and crossed the room to me, sliding her hands up my shirt.

“When you didn’t come back to the office, I thought something might be wrong. I tried texting you, but you didn’t respond. Didn’t you get my pictures?” She looked up at me. “Was something wrong?”

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