Bags in Hand

MARCUS WESTWOOD

__

A knock sounds. I tamp down annoyance at the interruption. "Come in."

Sally bobs her head in. At once, I soften. The tiny woman smiles at me. "She's here, Marcus."

I nod. "Alright. I'll be down in a minute.

She smiles warmly at the other occupants in the room before backing out and closing the door behind her softly.

The four men look at me questioningly.

My brothers.

Not blood related. I doubt two people could create so much wrongness between them.

But I won't trade the rascals for anything.

There's Chase, the bearded mammoth who'd built a protection agency from the ground up, William, a real life prince who had enough money than his philandering ass knew what to do with. Thane, a vicious socialite whose generation's wealth was older than time. And Callum, who, like me, had clawed his way to the top from poverty and built a multi-billion empire.

Lounging against his chair lazily, Thane asks, "Not enough maids?"

Closing my laptop, I respond, irritated, "I have nothing to do with this. Sally must have picked up another stray." Whatever she'd said yesterday when I wasn't listening had been something to that effect.

"Can't help noticing your mood this morning, Blackwood," William says. "What's got your boxers in a twist?"

I give him a look. "You notice that and not your poor business choices?"

He raises his hands in surrender, a smile paying on his lips at getting under my skin. "Hey, just making sure you're okay."

"I would reserve that level of concern for your finances."

"Bloody hell," Thane says in a voice that's thick with suppressed laughter.

I stand and head out of the room. As I strom the halls, I can't help the annoyance that rises at William's words. He'd been right. My mood is shit.

All because her.

The woman from the club.

The thick vixen with a lightly accented drawl grinding against the pole like she prayed it was my cock. She'd inspired heated thoughts, dreams that saw me wake to my hips thrusting into my sheets, my hand gripping myself in heated frustration as I gave furious pumps.

F*ck. Even now I'm hard as steel.

I see my driver, Cyrus, once I step outside. Sally is the next I see. She's speaking with who I assume is the new help, whose back is turned to me.

The elderly housekeeper who is more a mother to me than anything notices me approaching. A wide smile splits her softly gnarled face and she says something to the girl.

When she turns around, I feel the air leave my lungs.

__

JUNE RIVERRA

Silence stretches the air.

He looks at me like he's just seen a ghost.

And I don't feel any different.

I am tempted to pinch myself to make sure I'm not, indeed, in a nightmare. A chill wash through me and something akin to horror knot across my chest. It's him.

The stranger.

Maybe oblivious to the tension in the air, Ma'am Sally, introduces gleefully, "Oh, Marcus! Glad you're here. She's the one I was telling you about."

He rights himself, that fleeting expression of shock slipping into a cold mask so instantly that I feel my skin prick with an uneasy chill.

I feel my heart pick speed when the intimidating man starts to stride over to us. I am surprised to see him bend towards the little woman and accept a kiss on his cheek.

"This is June Riverra. June, meet Marcus. Don't let that expression on his face fool you, he has the sweetest heart in the world!"

I try not to let my disagreement show. But with the way the piercing-eyed man is looking at me, I know he's aware of my thoughts. The dark scowl on his face deepens.

"He's excited to have you on board and had mentioned to me that if there was any way you could feel more comfortable, you shouldn't hesitate to mention it."

I manage a smile for her, half relieved he isn't saying anything. Could it be he doesn't recognize me? "I will keep that in mind," I say.

"Perfect. Your room has al--" She cuts off when someone calls her name from the far garden. "Oh, if you'll excuse me. I am so sorry--I need to attend to this." With that, she excuses herself, her frail form heading across the spotless area.

My heart slams in my throat when a shadow falls over me.

I look up to a cold face. "Leave." It's a dark command that reverberates through me.

I'm briefly stunned by my swift reaction, but I face the man squarely. "Marcus--"

"Mr Blackwood to you."

The expressionless mask had slipped now and the intensity burning in his eyes elicits a short flare of apprehension.

I inhale for calm. "Mr Blackwood. I know we didn't start off well, given the... circumstances of our first meeting, but I promise you, you do not have any cause t--"

He takes a step towards me, towering. "I want you," he says low. "Out of my house. Now."

A flash of anger. "Look here, pendejo, you think I want to be cooking and cleaning for your miserable ass? I wouldn't get paid all the money in the world! Listen, cabron, I don't know what's up with you but I believe we can put aside one little night we'd shared like adults." I cock my head, a mocking tilt to my voice, "Unless it meant more to you than a quick show?"

He draws back, obviously irritated to be cast in a simping light. "Don't mistake me. You mean nothing to me. I just don't make a habit to mix business with pleasure."

"What business is there to scrubbing toilets?"

"I was told you'd be cooking as well once the staff goes on weekends."

"Same thing. And this house is so big--you'd hardly even notice me! I need this job," I stress low.

"And I need you out of my property. Do I need to call security?"

A familiar feeling of helplessness starts to churn my stomach. I'd just gained my footing, can feel the rug underneath inching ever further. "No," I say thinly. "You don't understand. You can't send me back home. For godsakes I've already spent an entire fortune on cat food! I can't go back home looking like a loser to Fuzkins. You need to believe me, I cook better food than your mother."

He remains unfazed. That deep lilt sounds again, so cold and cutting that I feel a wedge drive through my chest. "I don't have a mother, and I don't care about your qualities. I believe your best are more suited in the strip club you work at than a household."

My mouth falls open silently. "I don't know who the f*ck you think you are--"

"Watch your tone--"

"Or else wh--"

"I'm back!" We turn to see ma'am Sally approaching us with a bright smile. When she gets to us she remarks warmly, "Good to know you both are getting to know each other. We wondered what in the heavens you were talking about, you looked so engaged." I turn to see a group of workers looking in our direction. When they see me looking back, they scramble to get back to work. If I wasn't in a shitty mood, I would have found the scene funny.

Ma'am Sally turns to me. "It's so rare that Marcus finds a worker he's satisfied with and I'd hoped he'd take a liking to you. I'm so glad with how things are progressing. What do you say, Marcus?" she asks him. "Does she start immediately or have a week of grace getting comfortable with everyone?"

I hold my breath.

When the silence continues to stretch, the woman's brows furrow.

My heart is beating so fast I'm surprised I haven't passed out yet.

The breath stills in my chest when he speaks coldly.

"She starts work immediately."

I feel boneless at the spike of relief that rushes through me, but my face heats when he says in a clipped tone, "One mistake and you're fired."

With that, he leaves me and ma'am Sally staring after his distancing back.

When he disappears through the large doors, she turns to me, face flished. "Oh, dear. Please pay that no mind. He's like that with everyone. Come on. Let me give you a tour of the Blackwood mansion!"

Bags in hand, I can't help but trail after her.