Page 2 of The Maid

She snorted. "You are not my boss."

He took a step closer, unable to resist. "I could have you fired if I wanted to."

"I suppose you're right. But that would make you a dick. Are you a dick, Gunther? Are the stories I've heard in the tabloids actually true?"

"Yes. All true. I'm a dick." Then he took a step closer. "And it's a big dick too, if you're wondering."

"I was not wondering. And, since we're being so honest, then I’ll add: Don't call me a maid again. Cleaning lady, housekeeper…but not maid. You make it seem like I'm your slave or something. I don't like it."

"Awww….a housekeeper with principles. Cute," he said.

She rolled her eyes. She was enjoying the verbal sparring as much as he was. The polite young lady that she had displayed to his mother was gone. "Ugh, such a dick."

Fuck. If she said dick one more time….

"Since we're doing the honesty thing: You're hot. Too hot to be a ma—cleaning lady."

"I need this job." It was an odd reply to what he'd just said. She sidestepped him, but he quickly moved in front of her again.

"How old are you?"

"Too old for you. You're just a kid." But her eyes roamed down his body and there was no way she could've missed his hard-on.

"I'm eighteen and have been on my own since I was eleven. I'm no kid. You're what? Twenty-two, twenty-three?"

"You haven't been on your own. You've been in a ritzy school that your parents pay for. I'm twenty-five, by the way. And, like I said, too old for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, as fun as this has been, I have work to finish."

He grabbed her forearm before she had a chance to walk out. "I take it back. You're not hot. You're fucking beautiful. Even with the horrible dress, you're gorgeous." He saw her swallow. She wasn't unaffected, her eyes went to his lips and lingered there for a moment before she pulled her arm free. "Gun. Call me Gun."

She inhaled sharply and left his room. She was frazzled. And he was pleased with himself for that. Suddenly he was really really glad he was going to be home for a while.

Addie knew Gun was eighteen. Everyone in the world knew that Gunther McCall was eighteen years old. He was American royalty. The tabloids had been following his every move since his parents' scandalous announcement of his birth. After ten years of marriage to America's sweetheart, Jennifer St. Claire, Liam McCall was caught by paparazzi leaving a hotel with the very wealthy heiress Monique Van Buren. Gossip about an affair between Liam and Monique flooded every news rag and both Liam, Jennifer and Monique denied it for months even after Monique was photographed with a baby bump. Eventually, Liam and Monique had to come clean and months later, Gunther was born, Liam and Jennifer divorced, and the wedding of the century took place between Liam and Monique. America was glued to the television watching, Gunther, the cutest ring boy ever, walk down the aisle. Addie remembered watching it play out on the news when she was a little girl. Now she was working for them.

She had wanted to be royalty back then, pretending to be the bride with a crown of her own. Instead, she was doing laundry and cleaning the bathroom of royalty. Gunther had grown up in the public eye getting into trouble even while he was away in school.

But now, meeting him in person was a different thing altogether. He didn't look like an --eighteen-year-old kid. He was maybe six- feet- tall and lean, but not in a lanky sort of way, instead in a toned and athletic way. She'd heard her aunt talk about how Liam loathed that Gunther played football in high school and had been a huge point of contention between father and son. Liam considered it barbaric and a waste of time. Barbaric or not, the guy had the body of a football player. He was very good-looking. Too much so. It made her nervous how attractive she found him. He was too young and too rich for her.

He acted like someone who knew himself, a quality that most men didn't possess until much later in life. The way he crowded her, and told her she was hot, left her briefly disarmed. Even the way he insulted her; all of that spoke of someone who was very self-assured. The insults she could do without, although truth be told, she didn't fault him too much. He didn't know better; he'd been born with a silver spoon in his body and addressing the hired help was not a skill he'd been taught.

It surprised her how he acted more assured and in control than most of the guys she dated or hung around with at school. There was something about Gunther McCall…something that she couldn't exactly pinpoint.

He was off-limits and she had to be the mature adult and make sure that things remained off-limits, so she made sure to avoid him the rest of the day.

That evening, when Addie was finished with work, she went to her little bungalow, a small, one-bedroom stone cottage at the far end of the McCall residence where she lived. For now, it was home and she loved it.

She took a shower and then tossed herself on the bed with her books to study for Monday's exam.

A few hours later, she was awoken by the sound of laughter. She yawned and peeled off a piece of notebook paper that was stuck on her forehead. Not many people ventured to this side of the yard. She jumped off the bed and peeked out the window towards the pool area where the voices were coming from. The sight of her turning on the light apparently caused the people laughing and talking to turn their attention toward her. Gunther, in a black suit, and a girl in a long lavender dress, stared back at Addie. Surprised at being caught, she released the blinds and ducked out of sight, her heart hammered in her chest.

What had all that flirting been about earlier? He was seeing someone. Damn him for making her feel beautiful and wanted for a moment. She pushed the textbooks off the bed and tucked herself in for the night, all thoughts of Gunther McCall, the cad, gone from her mind.

Of course, that's where Adalyn was living. Why hadn't he thought of that? He needed to get rid of Melissa Gomez, who actually did look much better now than she did the last time he saw her. But she wasn't Adalyn Finney.

"Who was that?" Melissa asked, pointing to the window that Adalyn had just peeked out from.

"The maids’ quarters. Why don't we head back, I'm tired from the flight." And he wanted to escape the dull dinner and go pay a visit to the new maid.

Two hours later after the Gomezes had left and his parents had gone to bed, Gunther snuck out of the house. There was no reason to sneak out as he was a grown man, all of eighteen years old. But his parents would have a heart attack if they knew he was going out in search of Adalyn. His parents were progressive, or they liked to pretend they were progressive, but in reality, they were not open-minded, at all. People in his circle dated inside their circle. Adalyn was not even close to being in the vicinity of their circle.

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