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Dimitri blinks at me in surprise, and I cringe at my knee-jerk reaction to refuse his offer. I’ve always paid my own way, and I don’t like it when people try to buy my lunch or even a coffee. I always end up feeling as though I owe them something, and I don’t want to be in the business of owing Dimitri anything.
To his credit, he recovers quickly and nods as if this makes sense. “Of course.” The corner of his mouth lifts in a small half smile that makes my knees go all wobbly. “Sorry. I’m not really sure how this is supposed to work.”
“You’ve never had a live-in housekeeper before?”
His grin widens. “Is that surprising, given the state this place was in the last time you were here?”
I purse my lips and try, unsuccessfully, to conceal my smirk.
Dimitri leads me down the hall, and I glance back toward the living room. I stop.
The living room looks completely different from my first visit. Gone are the piles of clothing and the mess of dirty dishes. There are no wine glasses strewn about, no food wrappers, and no water rings on the glass coffee table. It even looks as though someone vacuumed.
“Did you hire another maid?” I ask with a nervous laugh as Dimitri turns to look at me. “Am I fired already?”
“No.” He shakes his head, and a sudden awkwardness comes over him. “I’m not normally that much of a slob. You just . . . caught me on a bad day.”
I swallow, thinking of the scathing news articles I read about his failed leadership, and nod.
Now that the living room isn’t covered in an inch of grime, I find myself appreciating the light streaming in through the huge windows, which lends an airy feel to the place despite the dark wood finishes. The modern furnishings are all the same subtle shade of cream, and earth-toned rugs cover the wide-plank hardwood floors. It feels . . . inviting.
Dimitri is quiet as he leads me up the sweeping staircase. He makes a right down a long hallway, leading me to the door at the very end. This must be my room.
He swings the door open, and my eyes go wide. A four-poster king bed dominates the room, draped in the softest-looking white linens I’ve ever seen in my life. There’s a stone hearth, an armoire, and a long dresser with a mirror. The bed faces two sets of French doors, which lead out onto a balcony.
At first I think Dimitri’s made a mistake, because this can’t possibly be where he wants me to stay. The balcony overlooks a snow-covered pond, which is sheltered by a stand of magnificent blue spruce trees. But then I spot a few of my personal items scattered around the room, and I realize the movers have already been here and put everything in its place.
“Will this be sufficient?” Dimitri asks.
The question is soft and comes out sounding oddly vulnerable, and I whip my head around to look at him. Dimitri is staring at me with an inquisitive expression, as though eagerly awaiting my assessment.
“You can also use the storage room in the basement for anything you don’t have room for,” he adds. “I know it’s probably not as large as what you’re used to —”
“I —” I break off, shaking my head. I can’t seem to find the words. “These views! This room is incredible! And —” I continue walking until I reach the en suite bathroom, which is furnished with a huge glass-encased shower and a giant soaking tub overlooking the forest. I come back out and gape at Dimitri. “I guess houses don’t come equipped with servants’ quarters anymore?”
He snorts. “This isn’t Downton Abbey. Besides, there’s no one here but me.” He glances around the room and shrugs. “If you weren’t going to be staying here, there’d be no one to appreciate the view.”
My heart stutters. Dimitri doesn’t wear a ring, and the news articles I read didn’t mention a wife. And yet hearing that he lives here alone still does funny things to my stomach.
Before I can say another word, Dimitri starts backing toward the door. “I’ll . . . leave you to it, then. Are you sure I can’t order you some food?”
As if on cue, my stomach gives a loud grumble. I ate a hasty bowl of cereal before the movers came, but that’s all I’ve had to eat today. Vegging out with takeout sounds amazing right now, but something in Dimitri’s eyes gives me pause.
There’s no question that I’m attracted to him, but he’s my employer, and I don’t mix business and pleasure. I need to start our relationship off on the right foot, with clear, healthy boundaries.
“No. Thank you,” I tell him. “You’ve done so much already. I’ll get to work on the house first thing tomorrow morning.”
Over the course of the next week, I learn a lot about Dimitri. When I pad downstairs at six fifteen, my new boss is already awake. I don’t see him, but he’s brewed himself a fresh pot of coffee, and I can hear him talking on the phone through the door of his study.
I learn that he’s been surviving on steak, barbecue ribs, roasted chicken, and Doritos. There’s always a pile of bones in the trash, but I don’t see evidence of a single fruit or vegetable. The man doesn’t watch TV, but he reads three newspapers over breakfast — steak and eggs — and has a study full of books.
In the morning, Dimitri has conference calls, and at four p.m. every day without fail, he strips down to a pair of shorts and goes for a run outside. I’m not sure if the eccentric CEO is a masochist or if the cold helps to clear his head, but he’s out there every day that first week — even the two days it snows.
Apart from his atrocious diet and extreme dedication to his exercise regimen, what strikes me most about Dimitri is that he seems lonely. The man doesn’t go out or have anyone over, except for Beckett. The CEO and his head of security seem like two people who know each other well, but Beckett, like me, is Dimitri’s employee.
Since I technically have every Saturday off, Sunday is my Monday. I spend the day deep-cleaning all the upstairs bathrooms, which, while gorgeous, have accumulated a lot of grime over the years. Dimitri might have only laid off his previous housekeeper a few weeks before I started, but from what I’ve seen of the filthy grout and the dust hiding in all the nooks and crannies, that woman was only doing the bare minimum to keep her job.
I attack the tile with a toothbrush and scrub the showers until they shine. When I’m finished, Dimitri’s enormous Jacuzzi is squeaky clean, and the marble floors glisten.
