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“That’s not the point.”
“Sometimes you can be a little intimidating.”
“Intimidating?”
“Of course you’re intimidating, you practice constantly.”
“I want you to fire her.”
“Fire her?”
“Yes.”
“No. I’m not going to do that.”
“Jocelyn,” Reg stared at her. “If she’s in the house when I get home tonight, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
“What? A blistered butt? What a welcome home!” There was no way to disguise her annoyance.
“If that’s what you want,” Reggie said.
“It’s hardly what I want, and you’re being completely irrational.”
“Me? Irrational? I’ve been totally rational, totally forgiving. And that’s over. Fire her. I’m not going to deal with her anymore.”
“NO!” Jocelyn answered, eyes flashing.
Before he could say anything else, she was out the door, slamming it in his face.
Jocelyn beat Reggie home by a half hour, which only left her a few moments to think on her own. Reggie’s welcome was a cruel blow considering all that she imagined it would be. She expected his hands devouring her, rough stuff and getting screwed everywhere he thought to place his dick. She’d thought of that pure Reggie essence pouring from his firebrand eyes, and all the ‘hell to pay’ she enjoyed. She’d imagined many things in her hours waiting to see him, but she hadn’t imagined an argument, and a good one at that.
Jocelyn went to the maid’s room as soon as she was in the door.
“Helena,” she said, knocking.
“Yes, ma’am.” The gentle young woman opened the door a crack. Her two dark eyes stared out at the mistress of the house. Short cropped brown hair, a wide open face, clear olive complexion, and a trace of an accent from her European roots made Jocelyn quicken a little inside, recognizing female lust again. something she’d clearly felt with Alex, but hardly expected from the young woman in her home.
“I understand that you had a difficult week with Mr. Harold?”
The girl blushed. “I made some big mistakes, ma’am. He was trying to be patient, but I know he’s angry.” She opened the door wider. Jocelyn, taking the gesture as an invitation, walked in and sat down on the bed.
“What exactly did you do?” Jocelyn asked.
“Burned his breakfast one morning.”
Jocelyn nodded for her to go on.
“Spilled grape juice on his suit, the gray one.”
That was the one he’d just bought. Jocelyn winced.
“And…” the girl hedged a bit… “I threw away some papers in the library. They were in the trash, so I assumed he didn’t need them.”
“I thought I told you not to go in that room,” Jocelyn said.
“I thought I was being helpful since you were away.”
“That’s Mr. Harold’s inner sanctum, he doesn’t want anyone going in there. Not even me, unless I have an invitation.”
