Rhodes rose to his full height. He looked absolutely disgusted. “You’ve wasted my time, Ms. Harris. I intend to sue the agency for this. You were never a viable candidate.”
“But—”
“It’s too late to send you home. I will arrange for you to stay in the servant’s quarters tonight.Speak to no one.I’ll make arrangements for you to return to Boston first thing in the morning. And I’m getting my deposit back, dammit. Don’t spend a dime of it.”
With that, he stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.
I just sat there, reeling. I’d made, and lost, a fortune in one day.
And I had nothing to show for it.
SEETHE
RHODES
“Philips!”
I stormed down the hall, finding my butler calmly dusting a chess set in the sitting room.
“I need you.”
“Of course, Sir.”
He followed me down the hall towards my office, but I pulled him aside before we entered. “Who saw the girl?” I asked.
“No one but me and Yves,” Philips replied.
Relief flooded me until Philips cleared his throat. “But Mrs. Barrington has been upstairs in her suite all evening,” he continued. “There’s a possibility that she witnessed Ms. Harris’s arrival.”
Which was why I’d kissed the girl—just in case my step-monster had been spying on us. I wanted it to look real.But now I wished I’d never brought her here.
“Fuck!” I cursed, careful to keep my voice low. There might be other staff lurking nearby, spying. “I need to send her home.”
Philips remained composed, but asked, “How shall I explain her absence, if I’m questioned about it?”
I cursed again, louder this time. If Miranda had seen the girl arrive, I was doomed. I couldn’t just hire another escort and slap a ring on her finger—Miranda would know what I was up to.
“Wait here. I’m going to try and convince her to stay.”
I stalked back into my office.
Rory was still sitting in the chair, staring out the window at the darkness. She jumped up when she saw me. “Oh! I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“Sit,” I commanded again.
She scowled at me, but sank back down.
The girl was young—too young—and striking, with clear skin, brown eyes, reddish hair, and full lips.
But although she was quite pretty, and had a blowout and wore a classic two-piece designer suit, which showed off her long, toned legs, she wasn’t fooling anyone. She was a fish out of water here at Barrington Manor. She was too eager to please, too friendly—I’d almost died when she’d tried to shake Philips’s hand—and clearly had zero breeding or sophistication. Her jaw had been hanging open since she’d arrived.
And yet, she was all I had.
“I need to make this work with you.” I took out the contract. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know,” she said quickly. “I want this to work, too. I know you don’t care about me and my problems, but I have some, and the money would solve them.”
“So we both want to proceed.” I nodded, encouraged in spite of my many reservations. “One thing you need to know: the term is non-negotiable. It’s part of my trust. We have to stay married for at least five years.”
