Page 10 of The Billionaire and the Maid

Ward: Oh yeah, there is, but that is best told over beers. Next time you’re in the city, we’ll go out and I’ll tell you all about it.

Me: (laughing emoji) Deal.

Ward: You find a date yet for this ball?

I wince. I shouldn’t have unloaded that albatross on Ward, but after Tate laughed at me and Laurel suggested I hire someone, Ward seemed the logical choice of reason.

Me: Nope.

Ward: Well, keep your eyes peeled. It’s ridiculous but I don’t want you losing this over the lack of a girlfriend. Your dad is whack!

I laugh.

Me: That he is.

I start walking down the grand hall that connects the ballroom to the dining room and parlor. It’s lined with expensive artwork and side tables with priceless artifacts. And…the maid. There she is again, dancing around and shaking that ass that I admired earlier. And fuck, my cock wakes back up.

I watch for a long moment, ducking into the entryway of the dining room so she doesn’t see me. She’s even cuter up close now that I have more than a few seconds to view her. I watch her spin around and her hip juts out and right into the corner of a side table. I watch in semi-horror as an antique vase wobbles. She’s exactly one second too late as she reaches for it. It goes crashing to the floor and she goes rigid, her eyes darting in every direction.

After a moment, she sinks to her knees as she tries to pick up the pieces. What is she thinking? There’s no way of salvaging that. Well, probably not. It’s in at least ten pieces. I pause as suddenly a plan starts to evolve in my brain.Guilt is the greatest way to get a favor.Ward’s words dance around in my mind. I look back over, watching her place a call on her phone. Maybe I just solved my little problem after all.

CHAPTERFIVE

Ella

“Oh, shit!” I whisper as I sink to my knees. I pick up a piece of the vase and grimace. How can I possibly salvage this?

I pull out my phone and call the only person I can think of…Gus.

“Ella?” he answers in a surprised voice.

“Gus, I’m so totally screwed,” I whisper. “I just broke a vase and I’m pretty sure it’s worth more than my life.”

“I highly doubt that,” he answers. “Where are you?”

“The Marinos’,” I answer as I look around, making sure no one is here.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, it probably is worth more than both you and me,” he replies. I can hear the sympathy in his voice and my bottom lip quivers.

I glare at the ground since Gus isn’t here. “Thanks a lot. What do I do?” I ask in desperation as I stare at the pieces of the probably priceless artifact.

“Glue it back together. By the time they notice, they’ll just figure it was a guest at the ball or something.”

“Right, a guest breaks their vase and then goes and finds glue and glues it back together without anyone seeing them?” I question with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, probably not. I mean, are there cameras there?” he asks.

I frown and whip my head around again, looking in all directions. Surprisingly, none are here, or at least not pointed at me.

“No,” I reply.

He sighs. “Send me a photo. Maybe I can find a replica or something,” he states.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I whisper. I take a photo of a similar one across from me and then of the pieces on the floor and send them.

“Got them?” I ask.

“Yep. Damn, that’s some sort of Roman empire shit. I’ll see what I can do. Can you find something to put there in the meantime?” he asks.

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