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I swallowed hard. He knew who I was but was obviously pissed about me being late. “Hi. I’m Ri -”
Fuck! I was screwing this up already.
I cleared my throat and tried again. “I’m Charlotte.”
He stared silently at me, and unease nibbled at my insides. “From the agency? Celeste and Catherine sent me.”
“You’re late,” he said.
“I’m so sorry. Your house was farther away than I anticipated, and I had to work later than normal, and then -”
I stopped, took a deep breath, and tried to salvage the disaster as best I could. “I’m very sorry that I’m late and I assure you it won’t happen again. However, if you would like to reschedule, I completely understand.”
I couldn’t bring myself to say cancel. Not when I needed the money as badly as I did.
He studied me a few seconds longer before stepping back. “Come in.”
For the first time, my relief outweighed my apprehension. I stepped inside, my mouth dropping open as I stared at the foyer with its high ceilings, large curved staircase, and the biggest chandelier I’d ever seen.
Holy crap. The guy was rich. Maybe even millionaire rich.
I realized Mr. Steele was staring at me, and I closed my mouth with a snap, trying not to look like the poor country bumpkin I was coming across as.
“You have a beautiful home, Mr. Steele.”
“Thank you. May I take your coat?”
I unbuttoned my coat, hating how my fingers trembled and that he noticed. He hung my jacket in the closet as my nerves hit an all-time high.
Celeste had sent me an email with instructions for what to wear. Thankfully, Mr. Steele wanted me in secretarial clothes, which I had an abundance of. I couldn’t afford to buy new clothes just for a part-time job.
I crossed my arms over my torso. I wore a navy blue pencil skirt and a long-sleeved white shirt with a Peter Pan collar. Sheer stockings and low navy heels completed the outfit. I’d straightened my curly hair until it was sleek and shiny and kept my make-up minimal. Basically, I’d dressed like I would for a regular day at the office.
He studied me up and down like I was a prize he had won before saying, “Arms at your sides, Charlotte.”
Blushing hard, I dropped my arms, trying not to fidget. Embarrassment made my insides squirm when his gaze lingered first on my tits and then my hips. I stared blankly at him when he said, “Turn, please.”
“What?” I asked.
A pinched look of annoyance crossed his face. “Turn in a circle, please. Slowly.”
My face red hot, I turned slowly, my heels squeaking slightly on the marble floor. When I faced him again, he said, “You’re wearing a bra, and you have panty lines through your skirt. My instructions were clear about not wearing either, were they not?”
“Yes, but I planned on quickly taking them off in the restroom when I arrived.”
He raised an eyebrow again in a silent, judgment-filled question.
“In case I got in a car accident,” I said. “I didn’t want to be, um, underwear-less at a hospital or something. They say they don’t judge you, but they do. And I know I shouldn’t care because they’re strangers, but it’s still…”
I trailed off, realizing exactly how stupid I sounded as my voice filled the silence of that great cold chamber of a foyer.
What looked like a ghost of a smile crossed his face, but it was gone so quickly that I decided I’d imagined it.
“Follow me,” he said.
My hands sweating so much I could barely hold my purse strap, I followed him up the staircase. He wore a light grey dress shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and tailored black pants. I tried not to stare at his ass as we climbed the stairs, but I was only human, and Mr. Steele had a beautiful butt. We went right at the top of the staircase, and he paused in front of the first door. “This is the guest bathroom. When you’re finished, join me in my office.” He pointed to another door on the opposite side of the hallway. “We’ll review my rules and expectations before we begin the session.”
“Okay,” I said.
