Page 2 of The Billionaire and the Maid

And why does he smell so good? He looks like he just finished at the gym, yet he smells like…I sniff the air…pine trees and ocean breeze. He gives me a curious look and I feel my blush intensify.

“Yes,” I state. “Sir,” I add as I place my things in my rolling cart and go to open the door. His hand darts out and opens it for me.

“Th-thank you,” I sputter as I hurry through the threshold and to the elevator which takes me back to the first level of the estate. I press my back against the cool wood of the small elevator. Seriously, how rich do you have to be to have an elevator in your home? I purse my lips as I consider that for a long moment. Then the realization hits. I just made a total ass out of myself in front of Chase Marino, who oddly looked familiar. Those eyes…they remind me of…nope, not possible. Damn, I must need sleep.

I push the cleaning cart back to its closet and head out to my pink vintage Volkswagen Beetle. It was Gus’s. He sold it to me for a few hundred dollars when he upgraded to a brand-new orange one. Mine is named Princess and his is named Duchess. He claims he misses his old one, but I highly doubt that since his has automatic steering. But I love my little car. She’s perfect.

I drive toward our friend’s restaurant and then realize I’m a little underdressed. Pulling into a far corner spot in the parking lot behind Main Street, I quickly look around. No people. I turn and scan the back seat of my car. It’s tiny back there, but it’s big enough to serve as a second closet. I find a cute dress, a jacket, and some flats. Quickly I change, making sure I’m not seen. I pull my hair out of the ponytail I’ve worn all day and brush it before pinning it up on the side and applying mascara and lip gloss.

“That’ll have to do,” I mutter as I press my lips together.

I head inside and find Gus at the bar. He turns and sees me. I grin as he hops off the barstool and kisses my cheek. As he steps back, he motions with his finger for me to spin.

I roll my eyes but comply.

“Cute. Wherever did we get that?” he asks.

“Igot it at Heather’s thrift store. It even had the tags on it,” I say with a wink, knowing that Gus loves a good bargain. It was probably not financially wise to spend all the tips I got from a customer last week on clothes, but I desperately needed a few new outfits. Thank goodness for the thrift store in town!

“Damn! Nicely done,” he replies as he holds his finger up for the bartender and orders us our usual cocktails.

“So, a raise, huh?” I ask as I play with the edge of the napkin in front of me.

“Yep. And an additional three days of vacation!” he says excitedly as he claps his hands.

“Where are you going?” I inquire, knowing that he probably already planned a trip.

“Well, I’m thinking about spending the holidays in London.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Wow! That’s…cool,” I say as I try to hide my disappointment. I had been hoping to spend time with him over the holidays since I’ll be all alone.

“I know, right?” he states as the bartender sets our drinks down.

I hold up my glass and we cheers.

“When do you leave?” I ask before taking a sip.

“I’m thinking the day before Christmas. But we’ll see. I may wait till after.”

I try to give my best supportive-friend smile because I don’t want him to know I’m bummed.

He elbows me. “Don’t look so glum. I’m sure Elisha and Isa will be around, and I think Bastian and Max are staying here. There will be plenty of people around. I’d bring you with me, but…” He trails off and looks sheepish.

It takes me a long moment to process why. “Wait! Are you going with that guy you’ve been talking to?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Maybe,” he answers, drawing out the “e” sound.

“Gus!” I admonish. “You better spill it! I need all the tea!”

He laughs and starts in on how he and Mr. Dating Website have not only been talking for four solid weeks, but they have also somehow randomly decided to spend the holidays in Europe. And by the end of his story, I’m less worried about him being murdered by a serial killer, and more excited that maybe he might have found the one. I want to feel happy for him, but deep down, I’m jealous as fuck. Will I ever find “the one”?

CHAPTERTWO

Chase

“God damn it, Tate!” I growl as I slam a fist on my desk. I love my brother, but he can be the most irritating fucker.

“What? Dad said to order more leather, so I did,” he says, throwing his hands in the air and shrugging. I can see the rolling hills of Tuscany behind him. He’s not even in our office, he’s holed up at his villa overlooking his vineyard. I’d bet a billion dollars he’s got a woman keeping his bed warm as we speak.

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