Ms. Bravo And The Boss. Christine Rimmer
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turns out we work well together, I’m not gonna like it, but I need someone ASAP. Let’s move on to the money. You’ll be an independent contractor. You pay your own insurance and deal with your own taxes.”
“Not a problem if the money’s right.”
“Three thousand a week.”
Amazing! When this ordeal was over, she could have enough to get Bravo Catering up and running again. Her heart raced in excitement and her palms started sweating at the prospect. But really, why stop there?
She wiped all signs of greedy glee from her face and manufactured a serene smile. “Four thousand a week.”
His cold stare went subzero. She was dead certain they were done here and she knew a moment of stark regret. No, she didn’t want to sit in a chair all day typing her fingers to the bone, but she did want that money.
And then at last, wonder of wonders, he nodded. “All right. Four.” She was just breaking into her mental happy dance when he added, “If you last. We’ll start with a three-day trial at five hundred a day.”
She opened her mouth to shout out a yes. But some contrary creature within her spoke up first. “I’ll have my own room, correct?”
He looked down his blade of a nose at her. “Of course.”
“Just to be clear, I will need my own bathroom, en suite.”
“There are six bedrooms in this house.” He was wearing his bored face again. “Each has its own bath.”
“I want to see the one where I’ll be staying, please.”
He asked wearily, “Would you prefer the ground floor or upstairs?”
Choices. She loved those. Lately, there had been so few. “Where is your room?”
Green eyes narrowed. “And that matters, why?”
“I need my space.”
He made a humphing sound. “I have half of the upper floor.”
“Ground floor, then.” She really did need a place to go where he wasn’t. “Show me, please.”
Jed’s expression asked why she insisted on wasting his precious time. But all he said was, “Follow me.”
She rose and went after him, back through the great room and down another hallway. He stopped at a door and pushed it inward.
The room on the other side was larger than her apartment over the donut shop. It had a king-size bed and its own sitting area, with a big-screen TV above the modern gas fireplace. The wide windows revealed another beautiful mountain view. There was even a set of French doors leading out to a small private patio. She could hardly wait to settle in.
“Walk-in closet there.” He pointed at one of the two interior doors. “I hope this will do,” he said, heavy on the irony.
She had one more question. The most important one. “May I see the bathroom?”
“Be my guest.” He gestured at that other door.
Elise marched over and pushed it open.
Pure luxury waited on the other side. She’d never been much for the rustic look. But in this case, she could definitely make an exception.
The woodwork was dark and oversize, breathtaking. Travertine tiles in cream and bronze covered the floor and climbed halfway up the walls. The long vanity had two sinks and copper fixtures. There were separate stalls for the toilet and the open shower, which had side jets and a rain showerhead.
Very faintly, she smelled cinnamon. Jed had come to stand behind her in the doorway. “The towel racks have warmers, of course,” he said. “And the floor is heated.”
“Of course,” she said softly, transfixed by the glorious sight of the giant jetted tub tucked into its own windowed alcove. The tub windows had center-mounted cellular shades that could be raised to the top to block glare, or lowered to the bottom for privacy. She could stretch out in bubbly splendor and stare at the sky.
“Well?” Jed demanded.
She turned and met his eyes. “When do you want me to start?”
Elise Bravo was a find.
Jed knew she was going to last.
He’d known it the minute he’d let her in his house. She wasn’t like the never-ending string of hopeless cases he’d hired and fired in the past year. She could type like nobody’s business while keeping her mouth shut and not getting frazzled or riled. There was something downright soothing about her, something receptive. She was exactly what he’d been afraid he would never find again. At last.
And he liked looking at her. He could go for her, definitely. She was so soft and pretty, round-faced and bright-eyed, with just enough junk in the trunk. She smelled good, as well. Fresh. Like clean sheets.
She also had attitude. Jed liked a woman with attitude. He liked a woman who could hold her own.
Not that he’d ever make a move on her. Any woman could provide sex. But a skilled assistant was a pearl beyond price. He’d learned that the hard way during the past god-awful year after Anna deserted him.
So yeah, he’d resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to be seeing Elise naked. It was going to be all about the work. He’d taken his last extension on this book. With Elise at the keyboard, he would knock the damn thing out.
“I need to get to work immediately,” he said.
“I understand. But first I have to get my cat, move my things and settle in a little.”
The cat. For a moment, he’d almost succeeded in forgetting the cat. “We’ll start tomorrow morning, then,” he said grudgingly.
“Yes. All right, tomorrow.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at the bathroom behind her, as if to reassure herself that it was actually there. She really seemed to like the bathroom. Whatever floats your boat, Elise. She could spend every free moment in there for all he cared. Just as long as she performed during the long working hours. “What about meals?” she asked. “I’ll need to have the use of the kitchen while I’m staying here.”
“No problem. I have a cook-housekeeper, Deirdre, who comes in five days a week. She’ll make plenty for both of us. But if you want to cook, knock yourself out. You can consider the kitchen and any food and drinks you find in it yours.”
“Works for me.” She looked up at him expectantly. Probably because he was blocking her path. “I should get going...”
He felt a definite reluctance to let her out of his sight. Anything could happen. What if she changed her mind about working for him? Got hit by lightning? Got in an accident bringing over her stuff and her damn cat? He warned, “We start work at zero-eight-three-zero hours sharp.”
“That’s eight thirty, right?”
“Correct.”
“No problem. I’ll be here and I’ll be ready.”
He reconciled himself to letting her go. Turning for the outer door, he doled out necessary info as he led her along the hall to the front of the house. “It’s a four-car garage. You can have the bay on the far left. Before you go, I’ll get you a garage-door remote, a house key and the code for the alarm system...”
* * *
At her apartment, Elise parked in her space by the Dumpster and entered the building through the back door. The hallway and the stairwell smelled of donuts from the donut shop in front. She’d grown to hate that smell, mostly because it tempted her constantly. There was something so perfect about a donut, after all. Flour and fat and sugar, deep-fried and glazed or frosted. The