“Well, it’s not my concierge business,” she said cautiously, returning to the opposite side of the island, and curling her hands around her mug of coffee. “I worked for a global organization. I was literally just one of hundreds of personal assistants.”
“Worked?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “As in past tense?”
Rachel nodded. “I’m turning in my resignation. I’m thinking about opening my own business in the Monterey or Santa Barbara area.”
Jamie gave a huff of surprised laughter. “Wow. Good for you.”
She peered at him. “You think it’s a good idea?”
“Hell, yeah. Monterey is filled with people who have more money than motivation. You’ll probably have to turn clients away.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” she admitted.
“Speaking of which, I understand you’ve offered to help me out while our folks are on vacation.”
Rachel barely prevented herself from rolling her eyes, but she didn’t contradict him.
“Okay,” he said, grinning. “So maybe you didn’t volunteer. But I appreciate you didn’t refuse. If my mom had canceled the cruise and stayed home, I’m not sure what I would have done. Gone a little nuts, I think.”
His expression was so forlorn that Rachel laughed. “I totally get it, and I promise not to smother you.”
Jamie stopped in the act of raising his coffee cup to pin her with a meaningful look. “Oh, no,” he protested. “You go right ahead and smother me as much as you’d like. You won’t hear a word of protest from me.”
And there it was again, a frisson of awareness that hummed in the air between them like static electricity, causing the fine hair on her arms to stand up. Rachel looked away first, unsettled by the frank challenge in his eyes. She turned on her tablet and pretended to be engrossed in pulling up her list of client services.
“Well,” she began, and to her dismay her voice sounded high and breathy. She cleared her throat and strove for a more dignified tone. “I’ve put together a list of services you might find useful.”
She slid the tablet across the counter toward him.
Jamie scanned the list and nodded. “This is just about what I had in mind. But there are a few other things I’m not sure about…”
His voice trailed off, and Rachel gave him an encouraging smile, hoping fervently he didn’t take the conversation into the gutter. “Like what?”
He scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. Rachel tried not to notice how the movement displayed his impressive bicep, or the fact his underarm hair was dark gold. She swallowed convulsively and forced herself to focus.
“Well, I do pretty well taking care of myself, but I’d rather not go a full two weeks without changing the sheets on my bed. I’m just not sure I can manage it alone.” He peered at her. “Is that asking too much?”
Rachel smiled in relief. “No, of course not. I’d be happy to make your bed up each day, and change the sheets. In fact, I can do the laundry, and prepare meals for you if you’d like.” She shrugged. “I’m not a gourmet chef, but I do okay.”
“Jeez.” He sounded impressed. “You’d do all that? I don’t want to turn you into a Cinderella.”
“It’s only for two weeks,” she said drily. “And I’m getting paid very well for doing it.”
“But this must be a little different than what you’re normally accustomed to doing for your clients, right?”
“I’ve pretty much done everything,” she hedged, feeling distracted by the sight of all that exposed skin over taut muscles. “I had several single moms whom I did shopping and household errands for, so I’m not completely out of my element.”
Jamie took a swallow of his coffee, seeming completely comfortable. “So what’s the most bizarre request you ever had? Can you share that, or is there some confidentiality rule you can’t break?”
“I do sign a nondisclosure statement for some of my clients, but in any case, I would never reveal a client’s name.”
Jamie leaned over the island counter. “So what’s the strangest thing you ever had to do?”
The gleam of anticipation in his blue eyes was too much to resist, and Rachel found herself responding to his conspiratorial grin.
“Well,” she began carefully, “I once had a client whose little girl lost her Disney pressed coin collection, so my client sent me to Orlando to visit all the pressed coin machines, and re-create her collection.”
Jamie’s mouth opened, and he gave a shout of laughter. “You’re kidding! What are we talking about, fifty or so machines?”