Page 26 of Maid for My Billionaire Boss
She flicked her eyes heavenward before heading into her hut alone. I had expected her to turn back and say something sassy, but she didn’t. Then I found myself wishing she had.
“Ithoughtitwasthe women’s job to fish?” Atalie raised her chin, looking at me as Robert and I jogged to meet her. Surprised she was there, I had half expected her to have a nervous breakdown by this point. Carrying two primitive fishing poles over my shoulder and a small bowl of worms, I stopped next to her and pressed my lips near her ear to whisper, “It’s custom, but Robert informed me this is one of the secret ways he gets to spend time with his fiancée.”
Her lips made a silent oh and her eyes fled to Robert. I knew which woman was his fiancée because Robert had introduced me a few seconds ago. Now, he walked out in front of the crew, like he was looking for better fishing. The woman he loved was the first lady behind him, pretending to be equally interested in studying the waters for signs of fish. Keeping my voice concealed near her ear, I whispered again, “It’s the woman with the longer grass skirt right behind him.”
Her lashes seemed to flutter like butterfly wings before she gave me a light toss of the shoulder and said, “Well, let’s head out.”
I was impressed she wasn’t attaching herself to my arm. It felt so light to not have to tow an extra person around. I freely swung my arms and it felt so good. I must have gotten a little excessive in my arm swinging because she bucked an inquiring brow at me. “Why do you look like those wild monkeys?”
“It feels amazing not to drag all that dead weight around.”
“I’m not dead—yet.”
“It’s true. You seem to have relaxed a little.” I kept pace right beside her. “Are you feeling better?”
“A little. It helps to be in a community, even if I can’t talk to anyone. I’m trying hard not to think about the other stuff.”
“That’s good to do. You let your mind run crazy on the way over here.” I pointed to a tree near the edge of the riverbank, shading the water. “Let’s try casting over there.”
She followed me down the bank and lowered to her butt to scoot along the rocks down the steepest part. I kept my eyes on her, but she was nimbler now that she wasn’t terrified of losing her life, and she did perfectly fine. She stopped at the water’s edge, reaching back, she called to me, “Hand me a pole. I think I see something.”
I reached the pole I had baited forward. “So, you do fish?”
She took the pole, inspected the hook and worm, then dropped the line straight into the water. “I’m a mom of a little boy. Therefore, I fish.”
“Right.”
A new look of worry washed over her face. “How do you think they’re doing, by the way?”
I slipped a fat worm on the other pole. “I’m sure they are having too much sugar, and he has probably missed a blue smoothie or two, but he might thank me for that.”
She flicked her line back up and frowned. “I had a nibble, but he took my worm and sped off.” Her eyes studied the water before she reached back. “Hand me the bowl.”
Impressed she had requested an entire bowl full of slimy worms, I dropped the center of the bowl right into her cupped palm and watched as she didn’t even flinch when she picked up another worm and sliced the hook right through it.
I was intrigued by this sudden new bravery she had. This time, instead of dropping the line straight down, she flung it back over her shoulder in a traditional cast but when she pulled the line forward it wouldn’t rebound. The line was stuck in the tree.
“It’s okay,” I assured her as she tugged on the line impatiently. “I can get it unstuck.” I moved toward the tree, but she called over.
“It’s not stuck anymore. It came loose.” Then, like she had spotted BigFoot standing behind me, her eyes grew so wide—panicked accents flashed alarms at me. She opened her mouth as wide as a foghorn and expelled the most audibly obnoxious screech that seemed to tilt the earth’s axis because I instantly got dizzy from it. “I caught a giant bat!”
She bolted toward me, arms flailing like off-balanced propellers, pole still in one hand, dragging the giant, by-anyone’s-standard, bat behind her like a kite. “Get it away!” she screamed as she swooned in on me, covering her head with her free arm, and tucked her head into my chest. Still connected to the pole she was holding; the bat circled our heads like it was teasing a landing on one of us. One of her hands wrapped around my waist, her fingers curled around the small of my back and she dug her nails deep into my skin.
It didn’thurtand I easily breathed right through it.
Who was I kidding? She had malignant Edward Scissorhands and I was close to tears! Desperate to stop her from slicing right through me, I took the pole from her, pleading, “You have to cut the line loose!” I tried to sound cool, but it was breathtaking in a knee-shaking sort of way how huge that thing encircling our heads was—the size of an eagle really!
“I don’t have scissors!” she called from my armpit.
Sure, you do. Attached to your fingers!
“Just chuck your pointy shoe at it!” I wailed, fighting back my own tears of pain.
“Not funny.” She covered her head even more with her arm and continued to cower into me, pressing her body into mine.
That part wasn’t really that bad.
Maybe I like bats?
