I turn my attention back to her, fixing her with a hopeful stare. “Well, what do you say?”
“You’re absolutely sure you want me working here?” Her eyebrows lift and I nod. “Then how can I say no? Of course I’ll take it. When do I start?”
“As soon as you like. I’ll help you move your things into the guesthouse and then I can show you where you’ll be working.”
“I don’t know what to say. I… I’ll help Becca clear all this up.”
I shake my head. “I already said no. Becca can go home. I’ll send someone to clear up the food and take it to the shelter.” I glance at the doorway and a rumble of frustration falls from my lips. “I wish I didn’t have to go anywhere, but I’m kind of in charge here. I won’t be long, OK?”
She nods. “OK.”
“Good. Wait here.”
As soon as I’m out of the door, Jack grins at me. “New staff member, huh? I guess I’ll be showing her the ropes then.”
In an instant, my hand is at his throat, pinning him to the wall. “She won’t be working with you. She’s my personal chef.”
Jack’s face falls. “What? A personal chef?”
“That’s right. What did you need, Jack?”
“How about an explanation? Why wasn’t I told about a personal chef position? It should be mine, I’ve worked for you for— Fuck, Roman, I can’t…breathe!”
“You’ve worked for my father for years. The casino is mine now, lock, stock and fucking barrel. You’re lucky you still have a job at all.” I let him drop to the floor, ignoring him as he gasps for breath, just glad Safi didn’t have to witness any of that. “You’re not irreplaceable, Jack. Now show me what’s up and make it quick.”
3
Safi
“Where do you want this one?” I can’t see the man’s face as he stands in front of me, a huge box marked K balanced in his arms.
There aren’t too many boxes. I don’t have that many things. But they’re also moving the furniture, beaten up as it is. And the fittings, which I’m not even sure are all mine but I’ve been assured it’s taken care of, whatever that means. If it was up to me, I would have just found a friend with a car to help me move everything from the apartment here to the casino guesthouse, but apparently it’s not up to me. Roman hired the removals company and told me it was taken care of.
As for the house, it’s amazing.
I could never afford anything like this. Guesthouse doesn’t even begin to describe it.
It’s all on one floor, with three bedrooms all fully furnished, with double beds, free-standing wardrobes and en-suite bathrooms. Then there’s a small library, which I’m absolutely thrilled about, stocked with books both old and new, a living room with the most comfortable corner sofa that you just sink into and a kitchen so well equipped there are some utensils even I’m not sure how to use.
And the view. Oh. My. God.
The view across the golf course is amazing.
Perfectly-manicured lawns, lakes, woods. You can hear the birds singing from the house! And in the other direction, toward the casino, a swimming pool with sun loungers and hedges trimmed in that way where they look precise and sharp.
Apparently I have free use of anything I want while I’m here and I’m still wondering if I’m in a dream.
I mean, how is this now my life?
The grin spread across my lips is lost to the removals man, but I don’t care. I’ve never been this happy before.
“Just put it in the kitchen,” I tell him, dropping into the sofa. “I’ll sort it out later.”
“Uh…no ma’am. I can’t do that.” He shifts from one foot to the other, and I realize, thinking back, that none of them has actually met my eyes once, the whole time. “Sorry, but…Mr. Schalk’s orders. We’re supposed to help you unpack everything except bedroom stuff. If this is kitchen stuff I’m to put it away for you.”
“But—”
“I’ll put it all away in its proper place. Please, ma’am, I have a job to do.”
I hesitate. I don’t like just leaving everything to someone else. But he’s right, it’s just things for the kitchen, he can hardly get it wrong. “OK,” I say, nodding. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” I watch him walk off toward the kitchen, and shake my head in disbelief.
It’s weird, right? That they’re not looking directly at me, and that they’re so dead-set on doing everything for me, not letting me lift a finger. Except bedroom stuff. So those were Roman’s orders. A wry smile spreads over my lips. What exactly does he think might be in my bedroom stuff? And what would he do to these men if they disobeyed him?
A little shiver runs down my spine. Disobey.
What would he do to me if I disobeyed him?