CHAPTER 12
Present Day
On Sunday, after I’d picked up a couple of business suits at Bloomingdales, I stayed home and deep cleaned every corner of my tiny, old, filthy apartment. The thing with cleaning old stuff is that no matter how hard you try to make things shiny, they refuse to cooperate. Once I was finished, I did the laundry and dishes. By evening, I was thoroughly exhausted and ate dinner while sipping a glass of expensive wine. Well, expensive for me, anyway, and the $15.99 bottle certainly was expensive compared to my regular $5.00 ones.
I got to thinking about what Spencer had said about how his friends would pay for sex and again wondered if he was referring to Mike. And that led me to wondering about the rumor Mike had spread about me. Did my parents know about this rumor? I wondered if perhaps my mom knew anything and called her up.
“Ellie! I’m so glad to hear from you,” my mom said.
“You guys got in ok?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“How’s Rose adjusting?” I asked.
“Oh, she… er…” my mom’s voice grew quiet. “She’s been in her room crying since we got here.”
“Give it time,” I said.
“Yes. I still think it’s for the best.”
“Me too.”
“And how are you?” she asked.
“I have this new job opportunity and I was wondering if you might know something about… someone,” I said.
“What’s the new job opportunity?”
“I’d be a personal assistant.”
“For who?” she asked.
“Spencer King,” I said, hoping she’d open up to me about whatever it was that she was keeping from me.
“Sounds interesting. What would you do?” she asked.
“Mom, can’t you just tell me what the deal is with him and out family?” I asked.
“What’s in the past is forgotten,” she said.
Realizing I wasn’t going to get an answer, I moved onto the real reason I had called. “Have you heard of Mike Bernstein?”
“That name does sound familiar,” she said.
“He used to spend time at Princess Harbor.”
“Oh, yes. Now I remember. He was Ty Bernstein’s son.”
“Did you happen to know Mike at all?” I asked.
“Only from what your dad said,” she said.
“What did he say?”
“He said the boy was nothing but trouble and he told Mike that if he ever touched you that he’d make sure Mike’s life was ruined,” she said.
“Dad said that?” I asked, shocked. My dad was a gentle soul. I’d never in my wildest dreams think he’d be capable of threatening someone.
“Oh, yes.”
“Do you know why?” I asked.
“Your dad overheard Mike talking to Spencer about you. Mike, apparently, said something horribly vulgar. Your dad wouldn’t even tell me what he had said. But he made certain Mike understood the consequences if he ever got near you.”
Wow. That was surprising. “I wonder what Mike said.”
“You know how men are. They say the most inappropriate things and have mouths that need a thorough cleaning.”
“Dad wasn’t like that,” I said.
“No, he wasn’t. He was a rare one. But no marriage is perfect, you know,” she said. “We were really great friends, your dad and me. But the relationship did lack…. Well, we were just so comfortable with each other, I suppose.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Oh, I shouldn’t be talking about this with you.”
“Mom. Please stop with the vagueness,” I said.
She huffed and thought for a moment.
“Your dad was a wonderful man and our relationship was solid,” she said. “It was more than I ever deserved. Now, I have to get back to making dinner. I’ll talk to you soon, ok, sweetie?”
I decided to let it go although I was quietly determined to find out what she meant.
“Sounds good,” I said. “Say hi to Rose from me.”
“I sure will. Love you, Ellie.”
“Love you, too.” I hung up the phone and sat in quiet contemplation for some time as I finished off my glass of wine. It seemed that Mom was a lot less happy in her marriage than I thought she was. What was it she was keeping from me? Was it something small and silly or something really big? I mean, she wouldn’t hide something from me if it wasn’t a big deal…
And Dad had threatened Mike? What had he said? No use in sitting here and trying to read minds.
I placed the dishes in the sink and brushed my teeth. As I was flossing, my phone pinged with a text message.
Tomorrow meet at my house instead of the office. 42984 Carriage Lane. And wear workout clothes. ~Spencer.
Workout clothes? What in the world? But perhaps this was a good thing. My goal was to get close to him so I could win this stupid game. And what better place to get close to him than his place?
* * *
The next morning, I pulled up at Spencer’s mansion at 9:01 a.m. The commute had taken longer than I had figured, and there was a long line at the bank when I went to deposit my first check from Spencer. I hoped he wouldn’t hold it against me that I was one minute late, but for every second that passed, I grew increasingly anxious. I parked my car in the driveway and jogged to the front door, then rang the doorbell.
A maid wearing a black dress and white apron opened the door. What struck me immediately about her was that she was wearing a patch over one eye. Why would Spencer, who could afford to hire anyone on earth, hire a woman with only on working eye?
“I’m here for Spen… um… Mr. King,” I said, thinking it was best to be professional. “I’m Ellie Goldstein.”
She opened the door further and nodded.
“Right this way, ma’am.” I followed her through the ridiculously huge foyer, through the vast living room, and out the back glass sliding doors.
When I saw Spencer sitting in the sun by a table, he was shirtless and was sipping a cup of coffee. He was reading the paper and seemed thoroughly engrossed in whatever it was he was reading. I was engrossed in studying his six pack, his muscular thighs, and broad shoulders.
The maid stopped a few feet away from him.
“Miss Goldstein is here, Sir,” she said.
He looked up at me, almost as if peeved. “Thank you, Ginger. You may go.”
She curtsied and headed back to the house.
“I’m curious why you had me buy business attire and then ask me to show up in workout apparel,” I said.
He studied my outfit for a moment: black leggings and a hot pink tank top.
“I suppose that will work.” He stood without offering an explanation.
“Follow me,” he said. I walked behind him doing everything in my power not to admire his broad, muscular back, not to let my eyes linger on his impossibly firm ass, not let my hands itch, wanting to grab his defined shoulders. I looked down, but even his calf muscles were ridiculous.
We walked down a stairwell to the east part of the garden, passing hundreds of rose bushes, all red. He stopped in front of a section that seemed to have been neglected among all the other perfectly manicured sections.
“See all the weeds?” He didn’t look at me, only scowled at the unkempt patch of land.
“Yes,” I said.
“Remove them. Once they’re gone, you are free to leave.”
The weeds seemed to go on for miles even though it wasn’t more than a couple hundred feet. But there must have been millions of them. How was I ever going to finish this today? And why on earth was he having me weed his garden? ‘Personal Assistant’ started sounding worse and worse.
He pointed to the wheelbarrow. “There are gloves in there and sunscreen if you need it. You can take a half an hour lunch if you’d like. And there’s a water hose by the pool if you get thirsty.”
Then he was off. So much for finding a way to get closer to him.
Goddammit. I needed a better plan than this or I’d make no headway and these next two months were going to be a living nightmare. I looked up at the sky, noting that there wasn’t a single cloud anywhere. Cursed. That’s what I was. According to the weather report, it was going to be one of the hottest days in Seattle’s history. It was only a few minutes past nine and the sun was already barreling down on me. Why did I ever think working for the Dark Knight would be a good idea? Well, I made my bed and now I’d reap the rewards.
By one o’clock, I had cleared about one third of the weeds. I gathered if I continued at the pace I was going, I’d finish this job by 8:00 p.m., and that was if I decided not to take a break. But I was so exhausted, so hot, so tired, and so hungry that I had to take lunch.
Sweaty and sore, I drove to the nearest gas station and bought one of those soggy turkey sandwiches. I inhaled the thing in my car and went back inside and bought three large Gatorades so I wouldn’t die from dehydration. I also bought some nuts, chips, cookies, and crackers so I could snack while working. All the way back to the mansion, I cursed Spencer, but even more so, I cursed myself. I should have known this would happen. I mean, surely, he could have hired a professional landscaping company to do what I did. But he took pleasure from torturing me and so he was going to make me do it.
Well, was there a way I could take pleasure in torturing him? Maybe I could pretend to have a heat stroke and I could swoon and he’d catch me. Surely, he’d want to be the hero and save the day! I walked around to the back, looking for him. To my delight, I saw that he was in the five-car garage, under the hood of an old silver Mustang. I approached him and he glanced up briefly. His hands were covered in oil and he wore a tight-fitted white T-shirt and jeans.
“Taking a break?” he asked, glancing up for a second.
“I just got so hot out there. I’m feeling a little faint,” I said.
“Make sure to stay hydrated.” He continued working on the engine.
“I think… I’m just…” I pretended to feel faint and leaned against the car as a hand hit my head.
“You ok?” he asked.
Oh, my God. Was my plan working?
“Yeah, I… I just feel so dizzy all of a sudden,” I said, inching closer. I was just about to fall ever so gracefully into his arms when he spoke.
“I can have my driver take you home,” he said.
“No, but thank you. I think I just need to cool down a bit.”
“You could take a dip in my pool,” he said, nodding toward it. I glanced at it, and another idea popped into my mind.
“Want to join me?” I asked.
“I’m busy,” he said.
“You look hot, too,” I said.
“No. You go.”
Dammit. Ok. My plan wasn’t exactly working the way I had hoped. However, if I went skinny dipping in his pool… he could see me from here. Maybe he would join me then? I walked toward the pool and carefully checked my surroundings. There was no one else around. Still, was I brave enough to do this?
I stood by the side of the pool, making sure I was in Spencer’s line of view and took off my tank top and sports bra. The leggings were next to go. Do I dare take off my underwear? If I wanted his attention, I’d have to go all the way. I turned away from him and slipped out of my panties. From the corner of my eye, I saw that he was heading straight toward me. Yes! My plan was working! I jumped into the pool with a splash, cool water enveloping me. When I surfaced, I saw Spencer standing at the side of the pool. I thought he’d be mesmerized by me.
Instead, he looked furious.
“What the hell are you doing?” he barked.
“I… you said I could cool off in the pool,” I said as I swam to the edge.
“Not naked! There are people here! My gardeners, my servants… my girlfriend is stopping by in just a little while!”
“Sorry,” I said, now feeling like the biggest idiot in the world.
“Now that you’ve cooled off, get your clothes on and finish your job,” he snapped.
God, I was so very bad at this trying-to-get-back-at-him game.
* * *
By 8:00 p.m., I was almost done weeding the patch of land he’d told me to. The sun was going to go down soon, and if I lost daylight, I’d struggle for sure. The last little bit was the hardest and my back was aching so bad I was wondering how in the world I was going to get out of bed in the morning.
Once I finished, I just laid on the grass for about ten minutes, trying to gather my strength. I was so relieved to be done and so freaking proud of myself for having completed this near impossible task. I bet Spencer thought he could break me. Lying here, I felt unbreakable. Ok, maybe not unbreakable, but triumphant at least.
Driving home, I had a moment where I thought it’d be so nice to see Rose tonight. But then I realized she was living with my mom and was far away. I started to feel an emptiness in my chest I hadn’t before. I had never been one to feel lonely when I was alone, but now that Rose was gone, I couldn’t help but allow the tears to fall as I drove. What was I doing all this for? Why was I still here in Seattle? Shouldn’t I be where my family was?
I parked the car on a side street and dragged my tired self inside. I didn’t even have the energy to eat anything or change. I just collapsed into bed and two seconds later, I was out.
The next morning, I woke abruptly to the sound of my cell phone chiming with a text message.
I looked at the time. It was 7:21 a.m. And there was a message from Spencer.
Meet me at my house again. Today we plant rose bushes. If you plan to cool off in my pool, bring a goddamn swimsuit.
Swimsuit. Yeah… No. After yesterday’s fiasco, I was done swimming. And plant rose bushes? He had like a gazillion of them. Why would he possibly want more? And when he said “we,” did that mean he was helping me?
I crawled out of bed, every muscle in my body so sore that I winced in pain with even the slightest move. Taking a shower felt like heaven, and once I was done, I lathered a bunch of Tiger Balm on my back. I also downed four ibuprofens to help me get through the day.
After I had packed a huge lunch and stuffed as many snacks as I could fit in my cooler, I dug my wide-brimmed hat out of my crammed closet and tossed a sunscreen 100 into my purse. I also brought several bottles of water and more Gatorade.
Feeling much better prepared than yesterday, I arrived at Spencer’s house with ten minutes to spare and rang the doorbell. Ginger the maid opened the door again and showed me to Spencer who was sitting in the exact same spot he was yesterday, drinking coffee. Again, he was shirtless, and again, I tried my best to ignore how my body turned into a million electrified butterflies around him.
“Miss Goldstein, Sir,” Ginger said as she gestured toward me.
“Ah, yes. Right on time.” He placed the newspaper onto the table and stared at me. What was he thinking? Was he thinking about how I was naked yesterday? God, I didn’t want to think about that, and I didn’t want him to think about that either. Especially since he had pretty much reamed me out about it.
Without a single word between us, the silence magnifying the crazy intense attractions between us, we walked together toward the patch of land I weeded yesterday. As we approached, I saw a huge truck on the lawn, and in the bed, were dozens of red rose bushes.
Once we arrived, Spencer opened the door on the driver’s side and pulled out a brown cardboard tube. He opened it and pulled out some sort of plans, then unrolled them on the ground and placed one rock in each of the four corners to prevent it from rolling back up.
“This is the layout,” he said, pointing to the plans. He handed me a tape measure. “The bushes must be two feet apart and in this exact pattern. You may leave when you’re done.” He stood up and his tan, muscular, god-like upper body glistened in the sun. I couldn’t help but stare at the ideal of masculinity before me.
“Any questions?” he asked.
My gaze flicked to his and I knew by his satisfied smirk that he had caught me drinking him in. Damn man. He was trying to torture me, and he knew he was succeeding. I felt my cheeks go as red as the roses in the truck, but I wasn’t going to let him get the best of me. Not today.
Not ever.
“Are you helping me plant these?” I asked. I couldn’t help but recognize that I felt completely underqualified for the project. What, did he think I was, a gardener? A person with a green thumb? I was hopelessly incompetent when it came to keeping plants alive. In fact, the only plant I’d been able to keep from withering was a plastic cactus my sister gave me for my seventeenth birthday. Come to think of it… what ever did happen to that plant?
“Helping you? No, you’re helping me,” he said with a chuckle. “As repayment for the vase you broke, remember?” He turned on his heel and walked back toward his mansion.
I was furious at him. Yet even so, I couldn’t help but let my gaze settle on his perfectly perky ass as he strode off. A vision of him ramming into me as I clutched that perfect derriere flashed into my consciousness with great force.
No! I wasn’t going to think about that! I was here to win this stupid, stupid, stupid game!
I was so finished with this gardening crap. So finished! Wait… How could I make sure he didn’t have me do this again? That’s when the perfect plan came to me, a perfect plan that could potentially earn me an office job. And what was even better was that I could absolutely make it look like an honest mistake.