Page 9 of Beautiful Deception

“All right then. I need a maid and you’ll do just fine. Now, you may leave.”

“Uh… sir?”

He looks up at me. “Yes?”

“You have to tell me where to go? I don’t have your address.”

“Right. Since I require a home to be clean at all times, you’ll be living there. My housekeeper will live there too. This is my address.” He writes it down and hands it to me. “Come tomorrow at seven in the morning.”

I grip the piece of paper tightly in my hand. “I’ll… be living in your home?” That was not part of my plan. Honestly, I don’t have any plan at all.

“Is that a problem?”

“No. I just didn’t realize.”

“I can assure you that you’ll be safe. I don’t take liberties with my staff.”

Elena did tell me that Viktor was a man with some kind of honor. At least there’s that.

“I’ll come tomorrow.”

I head for the door when he says, “I don’t even know your name. I apologize for the disorderly interview. I’m just really in need of a maid.”

“Inessa,” I say right away, then stop myself before saying my last name.

“Inessa.” He says my name like a caress. “Beautiful. And your last name?”

“Roberts,” I make up. It’s the first last name that comes to mind. “Inessa Roberts.”

“Good. I’ll need to set up an account for you to send you money. You’ll be paid a flat rate of 300 dollars a day and will work for however long things need to be cleaned.”

I almost lose my breath. That’s nine grand a month. More than enough for me to save my father and myself. We can get an apartment with that money. We can make this work.

“You look shocked,” he comments.

“It’s just more than I was expecting.”

“I pay my staff well. I expect loyalty. Can you do that, Inessa?”

“Mm-hmm,” I squeak. If he finds out who my father is I’m in trouble but this kind of money without any work experience is too good to pass up. I’ll never find anything as well paying.

This just means I’ll need to work with a man who doesn’t know I’m lying to him.

Then it hits me: to set up an account, he’ll need my bank account, which I don’t have. My father never believed in me having one.

“Uh, sir?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t have a bank account.”

“Why not?”

“My dad was abusive,” I quickly lie. “And he never wanted me to have one.” Not a lie. I need to mix some truths into my lies, otherwise, I’ll forget everything. “I don’t have one.”

“Well, we can open you a new one.”

“Can… can you pay me in cash? I’m worried he’ll find me and I don’t want him to get my money. I hope you can understand.”

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