I nod and take the plain brown envelope from him. Pulling out the paper inside, I gasp. The number stands out straight away.
“That’s ludicrous! You can’t possibly pay me that much,” I say to him, looking over at him in shock and disbelief.
“It’s a pretty standard salary, Mia. I had my lawyer go over it. You’ll be working six days a week; I don’t think it is excessive,” he reassures me before taking another bite of his roll.
I don’t know what to think. That amount of money is crazy to me, but this is his world. It probably is just a drop in the ocean to him. “Are you sure that’s ok? You’re not just trying to be nice?”
He laughs. “I assure you, it is perfectly reasonable.”
“Ok,” I nod. “Thank you, again.”
“Thank you. Keep feeding me like this and you’ll end up getting a raise,” he jokes and I snort at his ridiculousness. It’s a roll for goodness sake. Just wait until I make him a cake.
“It’s just a chicken roll, you lunatic!” I laugh, shaking my head and grabbing my coffee again.
“It’s wonderful. And I appreciate it. So look over the contract tonight, if it is all acceptable then sign it and you can start tomorrow. I leave at seven in the morning so I usually have my breakfast and coffee at six thirty at the breakfast bar. Then I’ll be home for dinner at six in the evening. That sound ok?”
“Yes, no problem at all.” I smile, excited to get started. I’ve always been a clean freak, so cleaning someone’s showroom style suite is a dream.
“Perfect.”
Chapter 10
Mia
Carrying two plates of spaghetti bolognaise to the table, I place one in front of Jackson, and the other where I’ll be sitting. Pulling out my chair, I slide in and smile at him. He’s wearing a white shirt that has the first two buttons undone, no tie or blazer tonight.
“Bon appetite.” Smiling, I tuck into my own, enjoying the bold flavours that I taste.
He groans in appreciation and nods. “Is there anything you can’t make?”
Laughing, I say, “I’m sure there is. I take it you approve?”
“It’s wonderful. Thank you.” He lifts another forkful up to his mouth and looks over at me, pausing in the motion. “How was your day?”
“Fine. I popped to the shop, stripped the beds and remade them, and did some ironing. Saying it out loud doesn’t sound very impressive, but it took a while,” I say, sheepishly. I don’t want him to think I’m not taking this job seriously.
Shaking his head, he says, “I know how hard you work. I told you, as long as the place is clean and tidy, and I’m fed, you’re free to do whatever you like with your time.”
“Thank you,” I say for the thousandth time, but I truly can’t say it enough.
He waves it off like it’s nothing and continues to devour his dinner. I take a sip of the cold glass of water I poured myself and look over at him.
“So, tell me about you. Other than rescuing damsels in distress and owning the swankiest chain of hotels in the country, what else is there to know about Jackson Carrington?” I joke as I take another bite of my meal.
He chuckles and reaches for his glass. Taking a long drink, he places the glass back down and leans back in his chair before answering. “There’s not much to tell. I have two younger brothers. Connor and Milo. My parents died in a car accident when I was twenty-one, so it’s just us.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, in earnest.
He gives me a small smile, “Thank you, but it was a long time ago. Now it’s just the three of us and my niece, Hope. We’ve always been close, my brothers and I. They were eighteen and sixteen when we lost my parents, so I did my best to take care of everything for us. I’d studied business at university and decided to try my hand at real estate.”
“Evidently you did pretty well with it,” I say, taking another bite and listening to him intently. It’s nice to see his face light up when he speaks of his family.
Chuckling, he says, “Apparently so. My brothers were a big help. Milo owns a construction company and Connor is a great business manager. He helps me run the hotels. It’s truly a family business.”
“That must be nice, working with your family.” I’m smiling, but I imagine it doesn’t reach my eyes as he looks over at me and tilts his head.
“Do you not have any family?” he asks, giving me his full attention.
Sighing I say, “No, it’s just me. I don’t remember my parents. I was put into foster care pretty young and bounced from home to home but never really fit in anywhere. As soon as I was old enough, I was on my own and I have been ever since.”
“That must be tough,” he sympathises, taking another drink of his water.
“It’s not so bad.” I give him a small smile. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had.”
“True,” he agrees. “So tell me something about you. What’s your dream job?”
“I always wanted to work at a bakery. Make cakes and pastries. Sounds silly I know, but I love cake and how happy it makes people. I enjoy making them so figured I should look at doing what makes me happy.”
“It doesn’t sound silly at all. Why haven’t you pursued it?”
“Money, time. The usual. When I left foster care, my main concern was getting an income and a roof over my head. There was never a good time or opportunity to go to school. But one day, maybe.” I give him a smile and go back to my meal.
“It’s never too late to pursue your dreams,” he says and I smile at that. It’s a nice thought. But unfortunately, nothing is ever that simple.
Chapter 11
Mia
It’s been a week since I started my new job as Jackson’s housekeeper and it is going great. We have breakfast and dinner together and he tells me about his day. During the day, I tidy the suite, put the washing on, and do shopping when necessary.
Jackson is easy to live with. He’s tidy, fun to be around, and never treats me as less than his equal. I’ve enjoyed getting to know him better. We talk about all sorts at mealtimes. Our hopes and dreams, our upbringings. He built his entire empire himself, with help from his brothers, had nothing handed to him, and I admire that. He’s a driven man who has never once forgotten where he came from, and I find that admirable.
Cleaning the kitchen counter, now that the garlic bread is in the oven, I hear the door open and expect to see Jackson walk in. Except it isn’t Jackson.
Judging by the little bit of internet snooping I did, I’d say this is his ex-girlfriend, Leanne. She sees me and scowls. Instantly, I dislike her.
“Who the hell are you?” she barks at me, looking at me like I’m beneath her. With her long blonde hair and daringly short red dress, she stands in front of me staring at me in disgust.
“I’m Mia, who are you?” I reply, trying to stay calm. I turn to check on the lasagne which is still in the oven. It’s smelling amazing if I do say so myself.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” she asks, outrage in her voice. She looks like she is about to have a strop and it’s almost comical. She taps one red heel against the tiled floor as she waits for my reply.