Which is decidedly an overzealous way of acknowledging I appreciate them hiring me. It goes back to my life-path assessment. I’m good at obeying and making people happy. My temporary status as a maid fills that in an unexpected way.
Getting back to work, I empty Carson’s trash can. While I’m at his desk, I notice the blueprint that’s pulled up on his computer. It takes me back to my brief college stint.
I cringe at the thought of being tied to a desk every day…unless they tied me to it. Oh geez. I shake the thought.
Anything that requires a primary focus on computer screens or paper sounds like the tolling of death bells. Thus my failure to complete the engineering degree my parents insisted would be good for my future.
I chuckle that this probably isn’t what my parents had in mind when they envisioned me working with engineers. I step to the other side of the room to Nathan’s desk. Technically, he’s an architect, so I guess I’m only working with one engineer, or if you consider the pair, a design team.
They never once took into account what I was good at or what I wanted to do. They’ve run my entire life for me, leaving me dependent on other people to make my decisions. I dump the nearly empty trash can into the bag I’m collecting trash in. If I had a clue what I wanted to do, I could have switched majors in college, but the more I looked into my options, the more it became clear I need to learn who I am.
In a frustrating life assessment, the only thing I could confirm I’m good at is doing what I’m told and pleasing other people. I have big ideas but no execution.
I pause, peering over Nathan’s shoulder. He has computer renderings of a bedroom on his screen. A waterfall on one of the walls… I like it.
He glances over his shoulder. “Everything okay?”
I point at the screen and smile. “Yeah, sorry. I like that waterfall.”
“Hopefully the clients will.” He rubs his head.
Instinctively setting a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, I’m surprised by the connection, the jolt of electricity that shoots through me, and the sexy bulk of his muscles.
It hadn’t escaped me how well he filled out his dress shirt or his t-shirt, but actually touching it, I’m taken by the mass that’s bigger than my hand. My sex tingles and although I’m not experiencing a heat fantasy, I imagine myself straddling his lap.
If he told me to do it, I’d follow his command and make him happy even if Carson was watching. That’s a surprising thought.
SmorgasSmut, the local social media gossip site, has been spreading rumors of ménages in Eggplant Canyon. Has it gotten to me?
Geez, what’s wrong with me? I finish what I need to do in their office and leave.
Taking the trash can out to the street, I pause a minute to breathe in the clean mountain air that smells of rain.
This side of the ridge, although only four miles away as the crow flies, is a world apart. The neighborhood is nestled in the canyon, tucked away from the rest of the world. Peace, tranquility, and—
“I don’t believe we’ve met?” A deep voice breaks through the serenity.
I spin toward the man, the neighbor, who’s striding from his house toward me. It’s sort of a relief to talk to someone I don’t work for, and have a dangerous attraction to—not that the neighbor is unattractive.
“Hi. I just moved in. I’m Zoe, Nathan and Carson’s housekeeper.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Housekeeper, okay, I’m Jefferson Adams. I just moved here too, into my brother’s place.”
“Oh, you’re Lincoln’s brother. I’m with Skylar’s Good Maids. I’m scheduled to clean your house tomorrow.”
“You really are their maid?”
My mouth falls open as I catch his assumption. I hold both of my hands up between us. “Yes. For now. I qu…took a break from college, and I’m working while I regroup.”
“Nothing wrong with hard work. Speaking of… Do you know Madison, she’s about your age, moved back in over there?” Jefferson motions to the end house.
I went to school with Madison, but we weren’t exactly friends. She had a social life and was popular, unlike me.
Talking with Jefferson makes me feel like part of the neighborhood like I’m really moving in. A portion of my fear of living alone is put to rest with how easy it can be to meet neighbors.
I make a mental note that when I buy my first house, I’ll look for a good neighborhood. More likely, an apartment. That would give me lots of neighbors.
Most people would probably find that crazy, but being on my own scares me. There’s always the possibility that holding a job and making money will help build my confidence.