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Chapter Three
This can’t be happening.
The thought circled her brain over and over. Yesterday afternoon, her biggest problem boiled down to an embarrassing situation with her boss, Sheikh Rahal. Now, her daughter had forwarded her the lawsuit details from the embassy kid she accidentally plowed into. He was from Monaco, and his car had been custom made just for him—because of course, it couldn’t be just any Bentley. Since she owned Haley’s car and paid the auto insurance, then Brenda was being named as a co-plaintiff. They were being sued for a cool two million dollars. Not just because of the damaged car but “emotional distress.”
Well, she was feeling some massive emotional distress as well, and Haley had tried to downplay it as less than a million—as if she weren’t going to have to see the legal papers anyway. For her job description and rank, Sheikh Rahal paid her handsomely but it was far from enough to settle a multi-million-dollar lawsuit. Short of robbing several banks or possibly unearthing some lost family heirloom in the attic, she had no ideas.
She was utterly screwed.
On the other hand, it made her feel no sense of awkwardness at all the next morning when she reported bright and early to Sheikh Rahal’s penthouse. Okay, maybe her heart still beat a little bit faster than normal at the thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d see a repeat of his gorgeous chest and arms again. No such luck. When she used her key to let herself into the flat, Brenda found Sheikh Rahal waiting, his sleek, swimmer’s frame cutting and imposing silhouette when highlighted by the rays of the rising sun.
She coughed, unsure on if she’d come too early. “Sir? Is everything all right?”
He turned and for a moment, his mask had slipped. Usually, Sheikh Rahal was nothing but composed, but there was a slump to his shoulders and a heaviness under his lids that contradicted his usual image.
Still, he offered her a weak smile. “Brenda, I’m glad you came back.”
“Well, I do work here. I know I’m just the help, but I take pride in my job, sir, and I apologize for not knocking last time. I didn’t expect what happened.” Her face flushed and she was sure her face was as red as a fire hydrant. She’d always had a bad poker face. “I guess no one expects that.”
“We need to talk,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a heaviness in his tone she rarely heard from the billionaire playboy.
She stilled, scared that her accidental indiscretion yesterday had set things in motion she couldn’t control. If he were going to let her go, he could have just called her. It was worse to come prepared for work if she were about to be summarily dismissed. Narrowing her eyes back at him, Brenda tapped her foot before her.
“You don’t have to beat around the bush. I can see what you want. It’s written all over your face.”
His eyes widened, those amber orbs growing comically huge. “What? How could you? I didn’t make my decision until this morning.”
She set her feather duster on the ground or else she’d be tempted to throw it. “I need this job, Sheikh Rahal. I know that I made a huge mistake and broke protocol because I forgot to knock, but you have no idea the number of debts I have now. I’m going to have to get a second job or take out loans or rob a leprechaun for his gold… Something has to give. The last thing I can survive is being fired.”
Sheikh Rahal burst into laughter, doubling over and slapping his knees. “Really?”
She glared up at him. “I’m sorry that my life is so funny to you.” With that, she turned on her heels and started toward the door. Brenda only got a few steps before a strong hand clamped around her forearm.
Sheikh Rahal spun her around to face him. Again, his breath was hot on her cheek, and she could kiss him, except now she knew with painful certainty that he thought of her as nothing more than “the help.”
“Brenda, you don’t understand at all. I would never fire you. I’m the one who made you feel awkward, who flaunted far too much in front of you.”
Or not enough, depends on the angle, I guess.
She chased those naughty thoughts away and swallowed deeply before speaking. “What?” Her voice came out as a croak so Brenda tried again. “No, I was the one who barged in. I—”
He brought a long, finely tapered finger to her lips. “Shh, let me apologize for once. I’m serious. I hurt you, and I think I gave you the wrong impression.”
“I… Sheikh Rahal.”
“No,” he intoned, his amber eyes seeming to blaze back at her. “You can call me Jamsheed.”
She bit her lower lip but didn’t pull back from him. “Is that appropriate? I know we leaped over some pretty huge boundaries in our working relationship. It’s only been a few months, but I thought I was doing well at this job, and I didn’t want to give you any wrong ideas about me or how seriously I take my work.”
He shook his head and slid his broad palm down from her forearm to holding her right hand in his. “My father’s very sick, and I shall have to return to Zomelia right away.”
“Oh, I see.”
Her voice was flat. She worked out of his London penthouse. If he left back to his own home palace, then he’d dismiss her anyway. She shook her and chastised herself for thinking about her own pocket first. As far as she knew, Sheikh… Jamsheed had a great relationship with his father and constantly spoke well of the man. To lose a parent was rough. She lost her father a few years back to kidney cancer. The thought of how much grief and fear that had to be roiling through Jamsheed’s gut even now made her heart ache.
Squeezing his hand back, she offered him a kind smile. “Whatever you need, Jamsheed. I understand. Is there any way I can help you pack up faster? Is there anything I can do to make it a little easier for you?”
He frowned. “I wanted you to come with me. In fact, I had a special arrangement that I needed to talk about with you tomorrow night at Nobu.”
