"This is the place, miss," the driver said while he looked back at me in the rear view mirror.
I smiled and thanked him for the ride before I stepped out onto the circular driveway. I had no bags, which made me feel like I was missing something or homeless, and I watched as the car rolled away, leaving me standing there at this strange house and wondering if I'd made the biggest mistake of my life.
You need money, Maddie, so just suck it up and get in there.
"Can I help you?" a soft voice asked from behind me.
I turned around and saw a beautiful young woman with braided black hair down to her waist looking at me with a curious gaze. She had an exotic feel to her that I instantly wished I possessed, and for a moment, I was struck by how shiny her hair looked. Mine never looked like that, no matter what shampoo and conditioner I used.
Nervously tugging on my brown hair that barely reached my shoulders, I moved toward her and explained, "I'm here from DeVille Staffing. Mr. Pierce advertised for a cook, and they sent me."
God, that sounded sad, like I was some kind of consolation prize. I didn't think of myself like that, so why had the words come out so pathetic?
The woman didn't seem to pick up on it, though, and waved me toward her. "Okay. Come in and I'll let Mr. Pierce know you're here."
I followed her in through the massive front doors into a two-story grey stone entryway that matched the stone on the outside of the house and gave the place a ski lodge feel. She stopped me as she moved toward a room off to the right.
"Stay here, please. When he's ready, Mr. Pierce will call you in."
"Okay."
Standing there, I again felt out of place like I had outside after the driver dropped me off. I needed to get myself together before the man of the house came out and immediately wondered if Mr. DeVille had made a mistake choosing me to fill the position. So I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to steady myself.
It was, after all, just a cook job.
Except that it seemed to be at the finest house in all of New York State and the person I'd be working for might have more money than every man, woman, and child I'd ever met combined and times by ten.
"Miss Thompson?"
My eyes flew open, and I saw a man standing in front of me. At least six foot two, he wore a suit just like a man should, filling it out in all the right places. My gaze settled on his chiseled features, beautiful mouth, and deep blue eyes as they studied me. He was nothing less than stunning.
"Yes, I'm Maddie. Maddie Thompson, sir," I answered quickly, instantly nervous around him.
"No need for sir, Maddie. Please feel free to call me Eric. Follow me into my office so we can talk."
He turned around and began walking away, so I followed him and couldn't take my eyes off his perfect ass. It looked like you could bounce a quarter off it. I normally wasn't an ass woman, preferring a great set of washboard abs and what sat below, but Eric Pierce's ass could change my mind.
What that ass would feel like in my hands as he pumped into me…
I shook my head to push away the sexual fantasy playing in my mind and sat down in front of his desk when he offered me a seat. If I didn't learn to control myself around him, I wasn't going to make it through the first week without getting fired. I needed this job too much to let my overactive imagination get the best of me.
Eric leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head in a way that made me feel like he knew how incredibly sexy he was and enjoyed lording it over others. With a sly grin, he said, "So tell me about yourself, Maddie. Why did you want to be my cook?"
Every professional answer I possessed seemed to disappear from my brain, leaving me staring at him and wondering what he looked like under that thousand dollar dark grey suit, tailored white dress shirt, and red power tie. Christ, this guy was like one huge walking aphrodisiac.
So without any clever answers to give, I chose to go with the truth and hoped he'd appreciate honesty. "I need a job and I've been a pastry chef before. It was in my uncle's restaurant, but the job was still the same as it would be at any other restaurant. I saw the DeVille Staffing ad online and decided to give it a try. The worst that could happen was I didn't get the job and I was no worse off than before."
For a moment, Eric didn't say anything but just sat there staring at me like he was studying me to see if I was telling the truth. I waited for him to respond, hoping I hadn't blown my chance at the job even before I started.
Finally, he pursed his lips and made a smacking noise like he had just tasted something he liked. "Honesty. I love that in the people who work for me. You're going to fit in here just fine. You don't have any issues with the requirement that you live here? Won't your boyfriend or husband mind that he only gets to see you once a week on your only day off?"
I shook my head. "I don't have a boyfriend or husband, so there's no one to miss me at all, other than my friends, and they'll be fine seeing me only once a week," I said with a smile.
He lowered his arms and sat forward in his chair. "You sound perfect for the job. I'll let you get settled and tomorrow we'll start. Do you need any help with your things?"
I sheepishly looked around me at my non-existent bags. "I didn't really have time to pack anything. Mr. DeVille told me I had the job, and the next thing I knew I was sitting in the back of a car on my way here. I sort of assumed his driver would let me stop at my place to grab a few things, but he didn’t."
My continued honesty seemed to make him happy, and he smiled at my answer. "Well, I'll have my driver take you to your apartment so you can get what you need. How does that sound?"