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She shook her head and moved aside. "She left earlier this morning."
A plethora of relief washed over me as I stepped inside. Perhaps, if I implored Miss Clarke, she would cover for me at least. "Miss Clarke." She spun towards me, and I walked towards her. "I was hoping you could, you know, cover for me. Please." The older woman tilted her head to the side, shooting me a sassy look.
"Please," I begged with a singsong voice and a puppy dog face.
"I've got an allergy to lies, but I can endure this one, I guess."
I pulled her into a tight embrace. "I can't thank you enough."
"I'm running out of breath, you crazy girl."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm just so thankful."
"Be thankful, but know I'm not going to do this again. I can't jeopardize my job saving your ass."
"Hit me hard on the face if I ever ask you again."
"Good. I like that part."
She stepped into the nursery, and I began straightening the living room. While cleaning the massive bedroom, my mind wandered to last night's events. Why the hell did he have to stop? I bit my lower lip, recalling the taste of his lips again. He was incredibly hot but didn’t seem stuck up about it. I guessed he was a businessman; otherwise, he wouldn't have ignored me just to answer a phone call. And to think I waited for him sheepishly, hoping he'd return. If I ever set eyes on him again, I'd ensure he gave a substantial reason for flying the coop.
I dusted lint off the windowpanes and sprayed some glass cleaner, wiping it from top to bottom with a microfiber cloth. But what if we never saw each other again? I shook my head, wondering why I was thinking about a man that had probably already forgotten me. My phone beeped in my pocket, and I pulled it out immediately. It was a call from my ex, Bullet. I gawked at the screen, shaking my head in self-pity. If I'd known he'd be as harmful as his name, I wouldn't have gotten involved with him. I drew the glove off my right hand and nudged the answer button.
"What do you want?" I spoke with a firm voice.
A cocky chuckle escaped from his lips, which made me regret taking his call. "You."
"It's over between us, Bullet. And I need you to stop pestering me with phone calls."
"Don't be stubborn. It's not over until I…"
One thing I couldn't listen to was bullshit, so I shut him up by hanging up. Bullet had cheated on me, and according to him, it was my fault for sex starving him. For some reason, I wasn't too excited about sex with Bullet. He hadn't been a horrible lover. However, I found our lovemaking too overly dramatized to be called exciting. Yes, baby. Ooh, right there. Oh, I'm gonna cum so hard for you.
I’d finally said to hell with the fake orgasms.
The lines had been rehearsed in my head so much. If I was tapped awake from a deep sleep, I'd be able to recite them on the spot. I couldn't fathom a genuine reason for that except that it was a downright lack of attraction. Yes, that was probably the problem. I wasn't attracted to Bullet like I had been to this stranger. And I still regretted that things had been prematurely halted last night.
The buzz from my phone pierced through my thoughts, but I ignored it. I didn't need a psychic to tell it was Bullet. After a while, my phone rang again.
"What the hell?"
Overly irritated, I pulled it out of my pocket and resolved to give him a piece of my mind.
"I think it's time you stayed away from me for good, or I'll report you to the cops." "Cops?" A totally different voice came at the other end of the line. A whining voice that sounded nothing like Bullet's gravelly tone.
I gawked at the screen of my phone to discover a number saved in bold letters: BOSS.
"Fuck," I cussed beneath my breath. "Good…Good Morning, sir. Please, ignore what you heard."
"Sure?"
"Yes, please."
"You should be almost done with your current assignment. You have another job for today. I’ll text you the address."
"All right, sir."
"It's urgent. Be there before noon."
"Okay."
I ended the call. "That was close," I muttered as I shoved my phone back into my pocket.
If I continued at my original pace, I would never make it to my next assignment on time. So I kicked it into high gear, cleaning with vigor. About 45 minutes later, I'd finished with the clean-up and took a taxi to the next house. I arrived a few minutes past ten. I pulled up to a guard house and had to give them my name before they opened the large gate. The house was a monstrosity, bigger than any I had seen up close and personal, with a parking lot that seemed to have every type of high dollar vehicle that had ever been made off to one side. An Aston-Martin Vantage and a Porsche Cayenne were parked in the circle drive in front of the mansion.
Before I could exit the taxi, a uniformed man came out and walked me around to a side door that led to the basement. I was trying to figure out why they would need to hire me to clean when they obviously had a full complement of staff. The man let me in the first door with a key, and then told me to ring the bell at the second door that was at the bottom of the stairs. I nudged the doorbell three times before the door opened. My heart rolled in my chest, and I almost fell to the floor when I saw the man I had met at the club.
