“Are you fucking serious right now?”
“I am.”
“Does Mom know about this?” Caleb asked, and he couldn’t believe he was using his other parent card.
“Who do you think advised I do this?”
Gritting his teeth, he should have known. His parents, every decision about parenting, they made together. When his little sister Cassie decided she wanted to be a doctor and not follow into the family company, their parents had talked it over and made it work.
“I suggest you go to work. You’ve got a lot to do.”
With that, he was dismissed.
He grabbed his coffee and headed out.
“Are you okay?” Martha asked.
“Yeah, fine. Just perfect.” He stepped into the elevator, pissed-off and feeling two inches tall.
At least his father hadn’t embarrassed him in front of everyone; that he would’ve struggled to live with.
Running a hand down his face, he didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do. The place at the board was where he was supposed to be, as was taking over from his father. He’d been training for it his whole life.
Now, it was being taken from him and he couldn’t let that happen.
****
Don’t steal shit?
Lauren Wyatt fumed all day as she cleaned Mr. Turner’s apartment. How dare he! She should be used to his kind of abuse, though. Yep, he liked to believe everyone else was beneath him. Well, fuck him.
She didn’t like to cuss out loud but this man was just one hundred percent asshole. She really should quit and tell him to clean his own damn space. He was an amazing tipper, though.
She’d been cleaning for him for the last two years, and on each holiday throughout the year, there was always an envelope with the words cleaning lady attached. Inside, some money and a thank you card.
See, cocky asshole billionaire had something about him, and it was why she kept coming back. Sure, he said the rudest things, but whatever.
She’d just finished preparing the week’s worth of meals that he didn’t know she did. Cleaning up the dishes, she put everything away. The first week she’d been working for him, she’d overheard the conversation with the people who delivered his cooked food about not listening to what he wanted, and so they used cheap ingredients and didn’t even follow a recipe. She’d been so pissed off she canceled his service and took over preparing everything he liked instead. So far, no complaints, not that he was aware of the additional work she did. She’d just finished up when she heard the door open.
Normally, she was long gone by the time Mr. Turner returned. Oh no, this is going to be bad. I don’t want to be here with him. She didn’t know what to do. Grabbing her bag from the corner, she clasped her hands together and was about to leave when he stormed into the room.
“What the fuck are you still doing here?” he asked.
“Er, sorry. There was a lot of cleaning to do today.”
He opened the fridge. “Yes, did they leave the vegetable soup. I fucking love it, and the lentil curry I wanted?”
“I, er, I don’t know. I had to put everything away and so I’ll be going now.”
“I’ve had a shit day.”
She stopped at the doorway as he put the vegetable soup she’d made into the microwave. For best results, she felt it needed heating on the stove but clearly, he knew what he was doing.
He ran a hand down his face. It was the first time, other than in a newspaper, she’d seen him look so disheveled. “I better go.”
“How do people meet others and then just immediately know they’re the ones?” he asked.
“Pardon me?” she asked.
They never talked. He barked orders with a warning before leaving her alone.
The microwave finished. He grabbed the tub and started to eat it immediately, drinking it from the cup.
Okay, this was something she was never going to forget in a hurry. It was all going to be fine. She watched him, wishing she didn’t have to see this. With her arms folded, she waited and he kept on watching her. This was the most time they’d spent together when he wasn’t insulting her. It was different.
“Would you like a spoon?” she asked.
“Nah, it’s fine like this. Tell me, do you have a boyfriend?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“True. It’s none of my business, but enlighten me. Do you?”
“Again, I’m not going to tell you.” Why was he acting this way?
“You’re a cleaner. I bet you spend most of your days thinking about a way out of that life.”
Now he was insulting.
“I think about doing a good job.”
“Yeah, well, I think I’ve just figured it out. You’ve been working for me for a while.”
“Two years.”
“Exactly, and in those years, it would be enough time to fall in love.”
“Wait, what?” she asked. Since when did love come into a working relationship?
“He wouldn’t need to know. It would be the perfect kind of cover.”
“I have no idea what you’re going on about right now, and I think it’s my time to leave.”
This proved if you stayed around too long after a job, you were likely to hear things you had no desire to listen to.
She started for the door only, Mr. Cocky himself stopped her. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. “It’s perfect.”
“What’s perfect?”
“You.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Look, my dad wants me to start taking family seriously. Not that I get the whole institution, but it’s what he wants and I’m guessing it’s something I’m going to have to give him. You’re perfect.”
“Wait, you want me to date you?”
“Only for my dad. He’ll believe what we tell him. It’ll be a perfect plan.” He nodded and smiled, looking rather happy with himself.
“This is crazy.”
“Not if it works.”
“You’re talking about lying to your father. I’m guessing this whole family thing is a big deal to him.” She was very much aware of the entire foundation of what the Turner family was built on.
Caleb had made it hard for her to not know what kind of person he was, and to know he apparently came from people who regarded family highly, she was shocked by the way he behaved. She’d seen the papers. He was a playboy. Mean as well.
“Yes, it is, but I’ll pay you.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You can write your own check for you to behave like my girlfriend next weekend.”
“Why next weekend?”
His smile widened.
She frowned. “I’m so not considering this.”
“The fact you want to know what is happening next weekend is another reason you’re considering it.”
“No. Hell, no. I’m not going to go around pretending to be some rich kid’s plaything.”
“Girlfriend, possibly a fiancée.”
“You realize you’re talking about lying to your family. That’s a big deal.”
“Not if it gets me what I want.”
“Wait, hold up. Why do you even need a girlfriend?” she asked.