Page 11 of The Billionaire and the Maid

“I…don’t know. I’ll try to find something and clean up these pieces,” I say. “Thanks, Gus.”

“You owe me,” he says dryly and hangs up.

I look back down at the pieces and my phone buzzes.

Gus: Shit. That vase looks expensive. I don’t even think we can afford a replica. Maybe I can find something. Give me a few minutes.

I want to cry.

Me: Thanks. Shit! I have no luck at all.

Gus: You have luck…bad luck.

Me: Thanks a lot. That makes me feel so much better.

Gus: Anytime.

Looking back down and sighing, I begin sweeping all ten pieces into a bag and place them on my cleaning cart. I look around nervously, slowly turning because I feel like someone is watching me. A shiver runs up my spine as I spin. And then, I lock eyes with none other than Chase Marino.

I freeze as I look at him. He’s leaning against a door. How long has he been there? What’s that look on his face? Is he going to get me fired? Is he mad? Is he amused? Fuck. I can’t read him.

He doesn’t speak as he takes a giant step forward and then another. He keeps walking until he’s about two feet away. When he stops, I’m forced to look up at him. I swallow my nerves as I try to straighten my back to my full height. I realize upon doing this, that I’m way shorter than Chase. So much for feeling more in control because now that I’m at his chest’s level, I get a whiff of his cologne. Even in my state of nerves and fear, my lady parts react. What. The. Fuck?

“Good afternoon, Mr. Marino,” I say politely, feeling a little proud of myself for keeping my shit together. My voice barely wavers.

He still doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches over my shoulder and picks up the bag of vase pieces.

I bite my lip. Damn it. I’m so screwed. I can never pay back that vase’s value. Not if I worked one hundred years.

I watch as he opens the bag and pulls out a single piece, examining it in the dim light of the hallway.

“It seems you had an accident,” he says slowly before placing the piece back in the bag.

“Y-yes, s-sir,” I stammer, lowering my eyes. I feel my cheeks turning red and I do my best to not cry. Gus was right. I do have bad luck, the worst luck.

“I should tell my mother. It’s one of her favorites,” he says, and my eyes fly up to meet his. Is he joking or is he serious?

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t mean to bump the table. It was an accident,” I reply, the words come out in a rush and run together. I feel tears threaten and I blink rapidly to keep them at bay.

He tilts his head to one side as he studies me. My phone buzzes in my pocket and he glances down at it.

“You going to get that?” he asks.

“I…uh…” I reach into my pocket. It’s a text from Gus.

Gus: Fuck. You are so screwed. Not Roman. Quin Dynasty. It’s worth close to a million. You can buy knockoffs but…fuck, they aren’t even close to that. I’ll see if I can find a good replica that won’t require us to take a loan out. Sorry.

I shudder and my hand trembles as I place the phone back in my pocket.

“Important message?” Chase asks, his eyebrow rising slowly. Who has control of their eyebrows like that? What the hell?

I shake my head. I’m fairly certain that all the blood has drained from my face.

“You don’t look so well,” he states. I feel my legs go weak and my vision begins to blur.

“Fuck,” I hear Chase mutter as everything goes black.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I’m aware of being carried and then laid down. My eyes flutter open as something cool presses against my forehead.

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