Page 3 of Maid for My Billionaire Boss
I panted, letting my fear subside and my eyes started to waver, feeling dizzy. No, hungry because I hadn’t eaten breakfast—or both. I was woozy and drunk on adrenaline and holding this paper shredder was heavier than one would think. I needed to sit. I clenched the shredder basket close to my head to prevent it from pulling my hair as it still owned me in its claw. I hobbled to the chair, but I heard a shuffle from the door, and my eyes skirted to meet it. The handsome man from the photo was standing before me. Trey was here! He didn’t waste time loitering in the doorway, gawking at me, but instead, he took long steps into the room.
His eyes held a fiery irritation and were fixed on me when he demanded, “What’s going on?”
I gritted my teeth, while still coddling the shredder next to my head.This is not the way I planned on impressing my boss today!“Please don’t fire me!” I blurted out. “Um, I mean, hello. I’m the new housekeeper and I was cleaning your desk. I seemed to have gotten sucked into the paper shredder. I’m okay, though . . .” My voice trailed off because he had rounded the corner and caught sight of his computer still marinating in a puddle of coffee. His eyes fled back to me, but before he could yell at me, I added, “Sorry, I tripped, and it slipped.”
If this had been a cartoon, his eyes would have glowed crimson, and black steam would have jetted out of his ears. I placed one timid foot in front of the other, waiting for my invisible powers to kick in as I set my sight on the exit.I’m getting fired, and I have no money. I’m going to have to literally beg on the street for money to feed my son, which may take some time. I might as well just see myself out now so I can get started on that.
Surprisingly, he didn’t yell. Instead, he asked in a calm voice, “Where are you going?”
I’d always been petite and had to stand on my toes to reach any closet shelf, but I’d never felt more freakishly teeny in my life when I looked back at him. “Er, I thought you were mad, so I was going to get out of your way.”
“I’m not happy, but I might also be concerned there’s a strange woman in my office wearing my paper shredder as a hat.” He had one of those voices that was a bit raspy, like he was on the verge of getting a cold. Then he motioned to his paper shredder still embedded in my hair. I clenched it like it was a security object I could hide behind when he said, “I can at least let you out of that thing before you go.” His lips curled a tiny bit but strained like he was holding back laughter. “Unless you want to walk around like that?”
My shoulders dropped some of the weight of embarrassment at the hint of his sense of humor, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Please.” I took a step closer to him, adding, “I tried to pull my hair out, but it won’t reverse at all.”
He dug into his top drawer for a pair of scissors. “That might be because I got the industrial-grade shredder,” he mused, the ends of his lips teasing a smile.
Still thinking it was insane for needing a shredder with a five-hundred-horse-power motor, I was too flustered to think of anything intelligent to add, so I tried to infuse humor into the situation by sarcastically saying, “Well, thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome.” He motioned to his chair with the point of his scissors, his eyes dropping to mine. “You must be Atalie?”
Now that I was standing this close to him, I could see his eyes were blue, but not like Josiah’s. More like a rare shade of indigo, making me wonder if maybe they were contacts because it was such a unique hue. “I am,” I answered in a small voice, “and in case you’re wondering, I’m not always this impressive.” I quirked one side of my lips and sank down onto his chair, perching on the edge like an astute student. I paused my breath when I noticed he was cute, like make-my-knees-shake-being-so-close handsome. He was standing closer than a casual dance partner and my head was parallel with his chest—only inches from it, which made it incredibly hard not to stare at. He was moderately tall. Actually, he was the perfect size I could fit right under his chin.Not that I thought about anything like that!
My cheeks raged in humiliation when he poked the tip of the scissors under my hair. I was grateful he was focused on my head and couldn’t see my cheeks light up like a glow bug. This was clearly the junior-high experience I had never had. I sucked in a loud breath when I heard the first snip.
He quickly retreated his scissors, peering down at me. “Are you okay?”
“In what sense are you asking?”
“In the sense that I didn’tstabyou.”
“Nope, in that way, I’m still doing quite well.” I started to let out a nervous giggle when he went in for another cut. I stiffened until the tension on my hair released and I was free.
He took the shredder from me. My eyes followed the basket until he set it on the desk, and I gasped when I saw several inches of my hair still stuck in its claw! “My hair!” One hand flew forward, longing for the hair I had lost, but my other hand fled to my head, trying to cover the part that had been scalped. I didn’t even dare sneak a peek at how bad I looked because the mortification would have slayed me. I wasn’t what you would call vain, but any normal person would have been feeling over-exposed in this situation. I pulled my lips into a squeamish smile as I fumbled for the words to make my shame go away. “Thanks, and sorry . . .”
“It’s okay.” His face held a soft expression, but his eyes stole a look at his laptop on life support on the floor.
“I can replace it,” I blurted out and leaned forward to pick it off the floor. When I lifted it, a trail of coffee beaded down from the corner, making us both cringe and again, I fumbled. “It totally hurts to be this talented.” Then I sputtered out a nervous chuckle—something I didn’t think I would be capable of—but it was either give into the mortification or cry.
His eyes held a twinkle of amusement when he reached forward, taking the computer from me. Before I could apologize again, he reassured me, “You’re lucky because it’s a new computer and I didn’t have anything important on it yet.” Motioning to the box on the floor, he tacked on, “I was unpacking it to set it up.”
I gnawed on my lip while we both stared at the stream of coffee that was still running like the last random drips in a perfectly pressed shot of espresso. “I can clean it up,” I offered in a response that seemed to hang in the air long after I spoke.
He held up his hand in a firm stop. “Nah, I think you’ve done enough here. Maybe you can stick to the kitchen?”
Motioning my head toward the door that never looked more inviting, I murmured, “Right. Um, I can leave now.” I took eager steps toward the exit and called back over my shoulder, “Um, sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I heard his reply, but I was too chicken to glance back at him. I sped away like I had the fullest of bladders, knowing full well today was going to be one of those days I would always remember with a cringe on my face.
Three
Trey
Isatinmyoffice holding what was left of my new maid’s ponytail. She had left my office to clean—or do whatever she called what she was doing—in my kitchen. She had looked embarrassed enough that I didn’t think I needed to add fuel to it by trying to talk. The whole circumstance was odd, as I wasn’t ever one of those people who understood what to do in emergency situations involving people. Give me software viruses, tech malfunctions, and anything relying on a black-and-white science to solve, but people—especially those of the female sort—usually succeeded in confusing me.
Okay, maybe disabling would be a better word.
Yep. Complete system malfunction.
