Maid for the Single Dad. Susan Meier
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of cooking, cleaning and caring for children.”
His eyes held hers for another second or two. Then his gaze dipped from her face to her pretty red dress, and Ellie suddenly regretted her decision to wear something as exposing as the short strapless creation made more for having lunch with friends on a sunny sidewalk café than working in an office. But not having air-conditioning had made the choice for her. How was she supposed to know a client would show up?
He smiled and all the air whooshed out of Ellie’s lungs. The temperature in her blood rose to an almost unbearable level. She could have melted where she stood. If this guy lived up north, snowflakes wouldn’t stand a chance against that smile.
“We have air-conditioning, so you might want to change into jeans and a T-shirt.” He took a business card out of his jacket pocket, scribbled on the back and handed it to her. “That’s my home address. I’ll meet you there in an hour.” Then he turned and walked out the door.
Ellie collapsed on the office chair. Damn it! What had she gotten herself into? Now she not only had all of Liz’s work, she also had a full-time job. More than full-time! She had to live in!
With a sigh of frustration at herself, she lifted the receiver of the phone on the desk and quickly dialed the number for Cain’s personal assistant, Ava.
“Are you busy?”
“Hey, good morning, Magic. How’s your first day going?”
“Abysmally. Don’t call me Magic anymore. I think my intuition is on the fritz.”
Ava laughed.
“I’m serious. Some guy came in here this morning, demanding a full-time maid and nanny—someone to live in—and I volunteered to take the job.”
“Yourself?”
Angling her elbow on the desk, Ellie cradled her chin on her palm. “Yes.”
“Oh, that’s so not like you!”
“I know. But he’s a friend of Cain’s and I worried about disappointing him. My intuition got all jumbled while he was here and before I knew it I was taking the job myself.” She winced. “I was thinking maybe you could find an agency that can get him a real temporary maid, then call him back and tell him I made a mistake.”
“All right. I’ll handle it. Give me his name.”
Ellie flipped the card over. “Mac Carmichael.”
“Oh, damn.”
Oh, damn?
“Oh, damn what?”
“Ellie, you’re stuck. He is a major pain in the butt, so not even finding him a real full-time maid would fix this. He’d never change a deal he’s already made. But he’s also somebody Cain’s been courting for years.”
“Courting?”
“His family owns hotels all over the world. Cain’s been trying to get in on the construction end. This might be a test for Cain.”
Ellie lowered her forehead to her palm. “Which is probably why my intuition wouldn’t let me tell him no.”
“I’m guessing,” Ava agreed. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. It doesn’t matter where I work, so I’ll forward my calls to the Happy Maids office and handle your phone and walk-ins during the day. Then we’ll spend an hour or so together every night doing the day’s paperwork.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course! This isn’t just Happy Maids on the line. It’s also Cain’s business and I’m Cain’s assistant. I have to do whatever needs to be done. Beside, I like you.”
Ellie laughed. “Okay.”
“Okay? Miss Magic, it will be more than okay. We will make it great. You’ll do such a good job for Mac that you’ll earn all kinds of brownie points for Liz and Happy Maids, and you might just get Cain the ‘in’ with Carmichael Incorporated that he’s been lobbying for for years.”
Ellie sat up. “Yeah. You’re right. This is a good thing.”
“This is potentially a very good thing,” Ava agreed. “And I will do anything at all you need me to do.”
“Handling the office during the day should be all the help I need.”
“I’ll be over in an hour.”
“Bring a key because I have to leave right now. Mr. Carmichael wants me at his house in—” she glanced down at the card again “—Coral Gables in an hour, and I need to pack a bag if I’m going to be living there.”
“You better get a move on.”
“Okay. And Ava?”
“Yes.”
Ellie winced. “You might want to stop on your way and buy a tank top and shorts.”
Ava laughed. “How about if I just call an HVAC repairman?”
“That’ll do it, too. I’ll see you tonight.”
Mac Carmichael raced his Bentley along the winding streets of Coral Gables and onto his driveway. He stopped at the gate, punched a code into the box on the left, opening the gate, and then roared up the stone drive to the side of his huge house. The garage door opened with another press of a button and he zipped inside. As the door closed behind him, he hopped out of his car, walked through the garage, into the butler’s pantry then into the huge gourmet kitchen.
His blond-haired six-year-old daughter, Lacy, sat at the long weathered-wood table by the French doors, coloring. Nine-month-old son Henry sat in a highchair beside her. His former nanny and current next-door neighbor, Mrs. Pomeroy, wiped baby food off his mouth with a wet cloth.
“How did it go?”
He sighed. “Well, I found someone.”
“Great.”
“I’m not sure. She’s—” Tall and blond and so good-looking he damned near turned around and sought out another agency. “Well, she seems a little spacey.”
Eighty-year-old Elmira Pomeroy laughed. “Spacey? Is she a drinker?”
“No, she’s just—” inappropriately dressed, too pretty for words “—kind of odd.”
“Are you sure you want her around your kids?”
“She’s not that kind of odd. Besides, I don’t have a choice. I need total and complete privacy. I can’t risk hiring a big impersonal firm or someone who doesn’t need me enough to keep her silence.”
“You think she’s made the connection yet that if she does well her boss’s husband could make millions?”
He tossed his suit coat over the back of a chair. “I’m hoping. If she hasn’t yet, one call to anybody in Cain’s office will get her the info. That should be the carrot on the stick that keeps her here long enough for me to find someone.” He leaned in over Lacy. “Hey, baby. What are you doing?”
She gave him a patient look. “Coloring.”
“Why don’t you put on your swimsuit and we’ll take a dip while Mrs. Pomeroy is still here for Henry.”
Her heart-shaped face wreathed in smiles. Her blue eyes danced with delight. “Okay!”
She raced from the room and Mac pulled Henry from his highchair. “And how are you today?”
Blond-haired, blue-eyed Henry slapped a chubby fist on his father’s cheek.
“Feisty, I see.”
“You better believe he’s been feisty.” Mrs. Pomeroy took his bottle from the warmer and tested the temperature. “I’m not sure if he tired himself out enough that he’ll fall