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My staff?It’s weird when someone puts two words together that you never thought of combining before. It feels like he’s speaking an alien language.
When Misha brought me to his house yesterday, I noticed a few maids moving around. The fact that they will work for me is too bizarre to comprehend. Me, the girl who grew up in one of the smallest trailers in Corden Park, is going to have a household staff.
I look down at myself and wince. Me, the girl who is wearing ratty sweats and her ex’s oversized t-shirt, is going to have a household staff.
“Um… can you give me a second?” I ask.
He frowns. “To do what?”
“To… freshen up. I need—”
“A new wardrobe and some fashion sense,” he finishes. “I’m well aware.”
I glare at him. “You have a problem with how I dress?”
“Amongst other things,” he says coolly. “You will be my wife soon. Looking the part is important. Living the part is even more so.”
“If you wanted a model for a wife, maybe you should have ordered one out of a catalog,” I snap. “What does that even mean, anyway? ‘Living the part’?”
“You’re in my world now, Paige. Either you figure it out, or you die in the process.”
He places his hand on my lower back and steers me towards the mezzanine. By the time I make up my mind to fight him off, it’s too late. I’m facing a line of people who are all looking at me curiously.
I thought he had two maids, maybe three. But I’m finding myself slack-jawed and stupid in front of a small army of housekeepers, butlers, gardeners, and chefs, all lined up at crisp, military attention. Uniforms flawless, expressions rapt.
Misha pushes me in front of them and steps away. The sudden disappearance of his pressure at my back makes me stumble before I can compose myself.
“Paige,” Misha says, gesturing to a short, stocky man standing at the center of the gawking crowd, “this is Noel. He is the head housekeeper, responsible for the rest of the staff and the smooth running of the household. You want anything at all, he’s the man to see.”
Noel steps forward and offers me his hand. I shake it with a nervous smile, taking note of his brilliant blue eyes. They make him seem so much younger than the smattering of gray in his hair implies.
“I hope you will be comfortable here with us, madam,” he says formally. But his smile is warm and familiar. I make note of him as a potential ally. God knows I’ll need those.
“I’m sure I will be,” I say, feeling completely out of my depth. “But please, call me Paige. I’m not one for formalities.”
Misha moves next to me, his hand grazing once again over my lower back. “You are the lady of the house. They will all give you the respect you deserve.”
I throw Misha a dirty glare, but he completely misses it. He’s already nodding to the next person in line.
Noel steps back, and I turn my attention to the tall, lanky man who moves forward. He’s got the bristliest mustache I’ve ever seen. It’s all the more noticeable due to the fact that there’s not a stitch of hair on his head.
“This is our head chef, Jace,” Misha tells me. “He makes every cuisine known to man. All you have to do is submit a request.”
“That is very impressive,” I say, shaking his hand. “As is your mustache.”
Jace’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he cracks a smile that I’m guessing doesn’t appear very often. “Why, thank you, ma’am.”
“He had a head full of hair when he came to work here,” Misha informs me. “But I made him shave it all off when I hired him. I despise hair nets.”
My mouth drops open as Misha turns to me with an impassive expression. A second later, his smirk twitches devilishly. “That was a joke,kiska.”
The staff breaks out into quiet, polite laughter. My cheeks flush with color, but I can’t help laughing along with them. I’m relieved to find that, despite Misha’s cold, sometimes abrasive manner, his staff don’t seem to be terrified of him. In fact, it feels like many of them might even like him.
Or maybe there’s some brain-washing chemicals in the water here.
Yeah, probably the latter.
One by one, we continue down the line, meeting each member of Misha’s staff. Mino, the sous chef. Sanka, the valet. Danica and Mario, the gardeners who also happen to be happily married.
