Page 7 of The Billionaire's Secret Twins

It is, and a frown marks my stern features.

“What are you looking at, Dom?”the blonde asks, turning to see where I’m glowering.Of course, the woman would never notice the help and remains clueless.

“Did we miss something?”the brunette burbles, also scanning the crowd in that direction.“Did a celebrity arrive?A movie star?Oh my god, could it be Taylor Lake, the new bachelor?I heard he’s to die for.”

Their chatters fades as I stare hard at Angela because this isnotwhat I anticipated when I invited my housekeeper to New York.Yes, she was going to organize a party for me, but she wasn’t going toworksaid party.But I see the curvy girl clad in a plain black dress and black flat shoes, lifting a catering tray to her shoulder.On the silver platter is perched a bunch of dirty dishes, precariously balanced, and she frowns a bit, struggling with the weight.

I stride over in a flash before easing the tray off her shoulder and taking it myself.

“Mr.Masters!”she whispers, blushing hotly as she stares with surprise.“What are you doing?”

I nod at the entryway to the apartment.

“Follow me.”

Angela’s stock still for a moment, but then bursts into motion, almost running behind me as I stride into the apartment.We get to a darkened hallway, and then turn into a side room before I ease the tray off my shoulder and onto a table.

“Mr.Masters, there’s no need—” she begins.But I frown.

“What are you doing?”

Angie stares at me, perplexed.

“I’m working the party,” she says in a slow tone.“It’s my job, remember?You hired me to oversee this event.”

“No, that isnotyour job,” I growl.“Your job is tooverseethe party.You shouldn’t be working it like a humble maid.There’s plenty of staff at your disposal, as well as an outside catering service that was specifically brought in to handle the canapés.Why are you busing dirty dishes and collecting used glasses?I don’t want to see you doing that again.”

Angela stares at me, those blue eyes like huge pools of ocean water.

“Mr.Masters, you may not remember, but I was a maid before I came to work for you.My job was to clean, and I’m not above getting my hands dirty.These used dishes needed to be taken in, and our staff is busy, so I figured I’d do it myself.”

Respect for the young woman washes over me, and I nod.

“I understand.You’re pitching in because we’re short staffed—”

“We’renotshort staffed,” Angie says in a firm tone.“We are staffed just right, but we’re currently in a busy phase and there was no one else on hand.Again, I’m more than happy to get my hands dirty, and it’s no trouble at all.Now if you’ll excuse me,” she says, reaching behind me for the silver platter.

But I don’t move, and remain blocking her way.

“There’s no need for you to serve, Angela,” I say in a deep tone.“I won’t allow it.”

Her cheeks color as her eyes shoot sparks at me.

“You won’t allow it?”she parrots, a disbelieving expression on her pretty features.

I shrug my broad shoulders like nothing’s wrong.

“I don’t like seeing you dressed like this, and I don’t like seeing young women lifting heavy trays they have no business lifting.”

Angela stares at me, a flush on those pretty cheeks.

“Dressed like what?This is a perfectly serviceable black shift.I wear it whenever I work events and it’s never caused problems before.”

I skim over her frame, taking in her lush breasts, narrow waist, and long legs.Of course, the fabric is boxy and stiff, but nothing can hide the curvy girl’s delectable figure.

“It’s ugly,” I say in a bored tone.“It’s a uniform.”

“Of course it’s a uniform!”Angela splutters, red spots on her cheeks now.“I’m the hired help!I wear a uniform so that guests know that I’m here to serve them.”

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