Page 9 of Maid for My Billionaire Boss
“Sure.” Mrs. Michael shrugged with her face. “I don’t see what there is to let go, but that’s fine.” She picked up her shaker, but Tonya was steadfast on giving her aI’ll check you into the nursing home myselfglare.After a moment of hot silence, Mrs. Michael’s brow bent down, and she held her shaker out, offering it to Tonya. “You know, you really need to try this weight loss shake.”
The noise that escaped from Tonya’s sealed lips sounded like a wild animal. Her fake-baked hands flew up in rage and she shrieked, “See what I mean? I can’t do this anymore!” Then she spun on her heel without another word, darting out the door.
“She wasn’t calling you fat!” Trey beckoned after her, but it was too late because the door slammed shut, silencing us all.
Perfectly on cue, Mrs. Michael bucked a brow at her son. “How rude was that?”
Five
Atalie
Itwaslateinthe afternoon, and I was exhausted by the time I had finished getting the house cleaned. Josiah was flashing me aget me out of hereexpression and I hurried to get my supplies put away and offered, “Should we grab some food on the way home and eat it in the park by the beach?”
That put a smile on his lips. “Cheeseburgers from Jerry’s?”
“Deal.” His eyes locked on mine, and my heart swelled from how easy it was to please him. On top of that joy, the better news was it was payday! I was so ready to treat us both to a celebratory meal and get back to having a more normal life. Unfortunately, as I was tying up my trash bag, the front door opened again.
Trey, his mother, and Tonya all walked inside. Their faces were sober but not upset like this morning. Trey’s phone beeped and he immediately buried his attention into his palm, so engrossed he didn’t even notice he had walked past his office door when he groaned, “You have got to be kidding me.”
“What happened?” Tonya walked up beside him, trying to steal a peek at his phone.
“The caterers I hired for tonight’s dinner meeting had to cancel. It seems lame, but I need things to go smoothly so I can focus on talking to Jane and Allen.”
“Could you call a temp agency?” Tonya asked.
“The party starts in two hours. I don’t see that happening.” He let one hand roll over his forehead when he added, “We’ll have to order food from a restaurant and set it up self-serve.”
I don’t know why, but this reminded of the time when I had gone with my husband to dinner with the guy who he had bought his studio from. The guy had wanted a cash offer and we didn’t even have a pot to put a penny in—let alone buy a building for cash—but my husband had insisted we try to win him over. He offered to take the owner out for drinks and the guy drank top-shelf whiskey all night, which put us over our modest credit card limit. Of course, our card declined when we tried to pay, but we couldn’t let the guy know we couldn’t buy the drinks because we were trying to get him to agree to sell us his building. While they were closing their deal, I excused myself to the bathroom, snuck back and found the owner, and begged him to let me wash dishes for a month on the condition he didn’t utter even a tiny word about our bill. It worked; the owner agreed. I got some rock-toned arms from lifting those heavy trays of bar glasses all month. In addition, we were able to get our guy to agree to sell us the property. Pulling my eyes to the side, I blinked back a reminiscent gaze just as I heard Mrs. Michael speak up, “Trey, maybe Atalie can stay for a little while to help out?”
Trey’s eyes fell on me, and he made a face, looking surprised to see me there before checking his watch. “Isn’t it late for you to even be here?”
I gave a curt nod, trying to act chill and not like the nerd who hyper-obsessed about the cleanliness of his house in an effort to make up for drowning his computer my first day. In my best casual tone, I tossed out, “I wanted to make sure everything was ready for you tonight.” Then I motioned to Josiah, who impatiently sat in the kitchen with his book bag on his back like he was a caged racehorse waiting for the gate to open. “We were on our way out to grab dinner, but I guess . . . if youneedme to stay, I can stay.”
Trey’s eyes drifted to Josiah, pausing a little longer than what would have been expected, before I realized I hadn’t ever introduced them. “That’s my son, Josiah. He’s been coming with me.” I had anticipated Trey to smile and greet him like most people who saw how adorable he was—mom bias. Instead, his face stayed straight, making me apprehensive, so I added, “I guess, your mom said it was fine.” I continued to eye his side profile, waiting for an upward twitch of a lip, a wave or heck, anything to indicate he was done staring at my son, but he stayed fixated on Josiah. As the seconds ticked on, it grew odder because he wasn’t trying to engage him at all. He was just silently watching him. “Is . . . that okay?” I finally asked.
His blinks interrupted his eye lock, and he replanted his focus on me and rushed to say, “Ah, I appreciate your help getting everything cleaned, but I can try some numbers. It’s only been a few days without a paper shredder attack. I’m sure you’re probably still needing to recoup.”
Mrs. Michael stood up from her chair, cutting off her son, “Trey, I think you should accept her offer because you might not find anyone else on short notice, and you know how Jane gets. She’s a handful.”
Before Trey could respond, Tonya’s face took a look of worry as she spoke to Trey like I wasn’t in the room. “I don’t think that will work for her to stay for the party. What’s she supposed to wear?” Her hand whisked toward me. “She’s a filthy mess.”
For the first time in my life, I had the urge to growl like an angry dog. Sure, I wasn’t wearing makeup, and my painting smock wasn’t couture fashion, but I was fully hygienic! I could never pass for the filthy mess category.
Before I was forced to make an awkward reply, Mrs. Michael came to my rescue with a remark directed at Tonya, “Maybe, since you’re leaving early, you can grab her one of those fancy dresses your stylist sends you and you can have a driver bring it back.” There was a sisterhood moment we shared when her eyes landed on mine. I was grateful she was stepping up until she added in a thoughtful voice, “Oh wait, that’s not going to work. She can’t wear one of your dresses. It’ll behugeon her.”
Tonya had ascrew the nursing home, I’ll lock you in the basementglare directed at Mrs. Michael when she muttered, “See what I mean, Trey?”
Waving his hands in front of him like he was desperate to clear the air of smothering exhaust, he said, “I’m not doing this.”
The corners of Mrs. Michael’s mouth drooped. “What did I do now?”
Tonya snapped back at her, “You insulted my body size.”
“I wasn’t insulting you.” Mrs. Michael motioned to her. “I was simply pointing out the obvious. She is much thinner than you are.”
Trey wrapped his arm around his mother, his shoulders bounced like he was suppressing an inward chuckle that pained him. “Mom, please, it’s sort of that thing we talked about where sometimes your opinion is needed and we will ask you and appreciate it, but right now is not that time.”
Her eyes bounced back to Tonya, but she sucked in her bottom lip and held her feet steady in her place. “Well, can you have your stylist select something for Atalie in her size?”
