Buttering a couple of slices, I put the kettle on to make some coffee. Grabbing the milk from the fridge, I add it to my morning coffee and put the milk and butter away.
Making my way to the breakfast bar, I sit and eat. It feels nice to start the day like this. Food in my belly and not worrying about what I need to do or pay. Grabbing my phone from the counter, I check the news. It’s my morning routine, no idea why, but I like to know what is going on in the world. After five minutes of meaninglessly scrolling, I give in to temptation and google Jackson.
Pulling up the first article, I read it.
Jackson Carrington – Self-Made Billionaire
Jackson Carrington is the owner and founder of Carrington’s hotels. With chains all around the world, he quickly became one of the richest men in the country. His hotels are known for being stylish, luxurious and well-kept. One of three brothers, Carrington is a very private man but is often seen at various fundraisers. His ex-girlfriend Leanne Masters was often seen on his arm, though sources say they are no longer an item.
Hearing the door open, I’m quick to exit the article and pick up my coffee. Not sure why I feel guilty, it’s public information. But it is snooping. I see Jackson walking in. Dressed in a dark grey suit with a royal blue tie, he looks every inch the successful businessman that he is.
“Good morning. How was your meeting?” I ask him, taking another bite out of my toast.
He walks to the kettle and puts it on, grabbing himself a mug from the cupboard before turning around to face me.
“Boring, but we got what we needed done, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time,” he replies with a smile. “Did you sleep ok?”
“I slept on a cloud; I don’t think it is possible to not sleep ok,” I joke, rolling my eyes at him. He laughs and I love the sound. So masculine and rough. It makes me smile.
Making himself a coffee, he moves to sit beside me at the breakfast bar. Taking a sip, he looks over at me and asks, “Did you want to pop into town with me today? We can stock up the cupboards and discuss meal options and so on?”
I nod. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“Great, let me change and we can head out if you like?”
“You mean you don’t do everything in a suit and tie?” I tease in mock horror.
“No, you brat,” he chuckles, standing up and taking his coffee with him. “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be ready.”
Nodding, I get up and load my now empty mug and plate into the dishwasher. It still isn’t full so I don’t bother putting it on just yet. Making my way back to the guest room, I grab a jumper and put some lipstick on to make me look less pale. Checking my reflection in the mirror—I’ll do—I walk back to the main room to wait for Jackson.
With time to spare, I find myself pulling up the internet again to do some more snooping. I search for Leanne Masters. I don’t know why, but I’m curious. Straight away my phone is flooded with pictures of a gorgeous blonde woman. She’s stunning. No picture with a hair out of place, or with no make-up on. I can see why Jackson was attracted to her.
Hearing him walking down the hall, I close the internet on my phone and slip it into the pocket of my jeans. Smiling when he comes into view, I say, “You ready?”
“Yep, let me grab my car keys,” he says, reaching into a small cupboard on the wall and picking a set out of the many he has in there.
“No driver today?” I tease.
“No, not today. Sometimes I like to play with my toys.” He chuckles, winking at me as he makes his way to the door. I follow him out and we head to the elevator.
Chapter 8
Jackson
Walking around the supermarket, I remember why I rarely come shopping myself. The aisles are full of people rushing around, everyone is in a hurry. I should have insisted we shop online, but I thought it would be good for Mia to get out.
“What about pasta?” she asks from behind me. “Do you have a preference?”
“No, I’ll eat anything.” I smile at her, as she picks up a couple of bags and puts them in the trolley.
“Anything you’re a particular fan of? Anything I should know if I’m cooking for you?” she asks, and I think.
“I have a slight addiction to peanut butter chocolate even though I don’t like peanut butter on its own, I chain drink coffee, and I only eat cheddar cheese,” I admit to her.
She smiles. “You may be the perfect man.” Her cheeks turn pink as she realises what she just blurted out and it’s endearing as hell.
“I have been told that before,” I joke, turning to go down the sweet aisle. She grabs a few packets of peanut butter filled chocolate and adds them to the trolley, earning a smile from me.
“Right, I think we’re just about done. What about snacks? Do you snack during the day?” she asks, looking up at me in curiosity.
“No, not really. I don’t have the time, if I’m honest.” She nods. “But feel free to grab anything you need.”
“No, I’m good.” She smiles and leads me to the checkout. It’s a painful process; I’m not the most patient of people, but we get there in the end. We take the shopping out to the sports car in the car park and I load up the boot while she takes the trolley back. It’s oddly domestic and I’m surprised to find that it doesn’t bother me. The thought of doing anything domestic with any of my exes would have made me run in the opposite direction, but with Mia, it feels normal. She’s not your girlfriend, she’s your employee. You need to remember that.
Chapter 9
Mia
After putting all of the shopping away, I fix Jackson and I a chicken and mayo roll. Grabbing the two cups of coffee I made, I carry his plate and the drinks to the dining room table where he is sitting, talking into his phone.
“Yes, I understand, Paul. Send the proposals over and I’ll look over them tonight. We can discuss tomorrow when I’m in the office,” he says, nodding to me in thanks when I put his coffee and roll down in front of him.
Putting my mug down, I go to grab my plate and wander back to the table, wondering if it’s ok for me to eat with him while he is working. He motions for me to sit and I obey, pulling out a chair and relaxing into it. I take a bite of my roll and try to hold back a moan. It’s a luxury to have something other than noodles for lunch.
Hanging up the phone, Jackson says, “Sorry about that. Work never stops.”
“No problem. It means business is good, so that’s good right?” I say, taking a sip of my coffee and looking up at him.
“That’s true. I know I’m very fortunate. I may moan about the amount of work involved, but I do love my job,” he admits taking a bite of his roll and making a sound of pleasure. “I could definitely get used to this.”
Laughing, I say, “I’m sure you could manage to make yourself a roll.”
“I could, but I rarely make the time. I’m my own worst enemy,” he admits, taking a sip of his coffee and sighing in pleasure. “Before I forget, here’s the contract. Look it over before you sign it. It’s what we discussed. An annual salary for taking care of the place, cooking and doing the washing and ironing, and so on.”