The Pretend Fiancé
“You don’t mind moving?”
“Not at all. I’ve been looking for a change.”
“Can you tell me a little bit more about your job experience?”
“I’ve scrubbed toilets, dusted, arranged furniture, changed bed linens, and tidied up rooms. I’ve replaced soiled towels and linen, vacuumed carpets, cleaned rooms, swept, scrubbed, waxed, and polished floors. I’ve used powered and scrubbing and waxing machines. I’ve increased SOP efficiency by ten percent by prioritizing and organizing the replacement of soiled towels and linen, vacuuming the carpet, and other daily routines. I work well without supervision. I adapt to new concepts quickly, and I have a passion for multi-tasking and organizing. I have excellent interpersonal and customer service skills. I have deep knowledge of OSHA safety guidelines for housekeeping.”
“I’m impressed. Please tell me more.”
“I’m a very conscientious, hard-working housekeeper. I’ve ensured a comfortable, clean atmosphere for hotel guests. I know the importance of top-quality service and maintain a professional, courteous attitude at all times.
“I’ll be in touch, Bella, it’s been good talking to you,” Greta said.
“Thank you so much for this wonderful opportunity.”
Greta hung up, and Bella let out a long breath. She didn’t know if Greta was going to give her the job or not. The job sounded fabulous. Bella hoped she got it for more reasons than just the money. Fabulous location, boss who was too busy and too honest to try and molest the staff, and she really thought Greta was nice.
Maybe she could make new friends out there. It could be a fresh start. Bella had been lonely since her sister Madison moved away and she didn’t have any close friends.
Chapter 3
When she got an email the following morning that said she was hired, and her boarding pass would be sent to her email address within the hour, Bella whooped and started stuffing clothes in her duffel. The black dress and shoes went in, some pajamas and her jeans, and a couple of tank tops. She’d never been to Phoenix or any other desert, and it would be fun to explore.
Phoenix was in the south-central portion of Arizona, and about halfway between Tucson to the south and Flagstaff to the north. The metropolitan area is known as the Valley of the Sun, due to its location in the Salt River Valley. Bella thought about the breathtaking views of Phoenix’s picturesque desert vistas and dramatic mountains.
I’m so ready for this!
She put her toiletries and makeup in a plastic bag, then had to look up airline regulations about liquids because she’d never flown before either.
She called Madison to tell her the news.
“That’s fantastic, babe. Let me know you get there safe and sound. It’s got to be better than the motel. And don’t worry, he’s probably some old dude that needs you to make his Cream of Wheat and lay out his blood pressure pills.”
“I wasn’t hired as a nurse or cook. I’m his housekeeper.”
“Okay, I have to go. Crouton duty calls! Love ya,” Madison said and hung up.
Bella’s boarding pass came through and the flight was in five hours. She called the Golden Oak and the convenience store to let them know she wasn’t coming, and she tried to figure out how to pack up everything and get it to Phoenix. Bella ran down to the grocery store and got some cardboard boxes. She packed her books in one, her clothes and mementos in another, and her kitchen stuff and pictures and refrigerator magnets in the same
big one as her towels and sheets. She’d rented the apartment furnished, so she just had to find a place to store her big box. She took a chance and called Kelly, the nice manager from the convenience store. Kelly agreed to let her keep the box in a basement storage cage in her building for a few months, at which time Bella would either send money for it to be shipped out to Phoenix or else the contents would be donated to Goodwill.
The airport seemed huge and busy, and Bella made it to her seat on the plane—a wide leather seat with plenty of legroom and a TV screen set in the seat back ahead of her. Excitedly, she stared out the window at the clouds below, watched part of a superhero movie on the screen and drank free soda and ate pretzels.
After a nap, she woke when the plane was landing. Bella collected her boxes from baggage claim—slightly battered and dirty—and loaded them onto a rental cart and out to the taxi lane. She took a cab to the estate. She’d expected grandeur, but the wrought iron gates, the stunning backdrop of Camelback Mountain, the sprawling Spanish-style villa were more than she could take in. Her jaw dropped. She snapped a photo, postcard style, and sent it to her sister in Tulsa because the view was not to be believed. Especially for a girl who’d grown up in Arkansas.
A woman came out to meet her and directed a young man to carry the boxes to the staff guest house. “I am Mrs. Marks, the chief housekeeper of the Carlson Compound where you find yourself now. I’ll give you a tour of the house and grounds after you’re settled. You’ll find your uniform in the closet,” the woman said crisply, striding ahead to lead Bella to her new home.
The staff guest house was a big ranch style building in stucco behind the pool house. Which meant that Bella got to walk past the massive crystalline blue pool with its rocky ledge and tumbling waterfall feature. Just looking at it was refreshing in the oppressive heat. She was handed a key and unlocked a heavy wooden door to reveal a lovely, cool room with Spanish tile floors, a double bed made up with fluffy white linens, an arched window with wooden shutters to block out the midday heat. She set her duffel bag on a chair and thanked Mrs. Marks.
She accepted her boxes from the young man, and they left her alone. By the chair at the window was a floor lamp and a small table, a set of shelves waiting for her books and photographs. A flat screen TV hung on the wall opposite the bed, and a dresser stood beneath it to hold her clothes. In the closet, she found a modern maid’s uniform of an olive green tunic trimmed in black with a white collar, a pair of narrow black trousers. She put them on with her tennis shoes and splashed her face, slicking her hair back into a neat ponytail.
Bella reported to Mrs. Marks, who surveyed her appearance with a curt nod of approval and conducted her not to a linen closet or supply room, but up the shallow tile steps of a curving staircase with a wrought iron banister. Mrs. Marks rapped on intricately carved double doors, and a man bade her to enter.
“Mr. Carlson, may I present to you our latest addition to the staff, Ms. Bella James. Ms. James, this is our employer, the eminent Mr. Carlson to whom we all owe our livelihood and comfortable home. Mr. Carlson likes to interview each employee upon arrival to determine if you will suit. Ring when you’re through and I’ll give her a tour, sir,” Mrs. Marks said, dropping an actual curtsey before she withdrew.
Bella gaped. First at the man, because she hadn’t actually gotten around to Googling him, and it turned out he was shockingly, breathtakingly gorgeous. So handsome—it was like her brain whirred to a stop and could only chirp ‘so handsome’ like an annoying parrot. Had she said it aloud? He was smirking. The hot guy was smirking at her so it was possible she’d said it. Should she pretend to have Tourette’s? Or that she had forgotten some kind of important medication? She couldn’t quit looking at him. Sandy hair, bright blue eyes that were too intense, broad shoulders and a tan. He was wearing a designer suit and tie. Sitting behind a desk bigger than most of her apartment back in Arkansas, and there were three computer monitors behind him and all sorts of other electronics and papers everywhere. It looked really intimidating that this was his home office. Where she came from a home office was a desktop Dell and a printer, maybe a fax machine. This was like some kind of top-secret command center from a movie.
She was painfully aware that she hadn’t put on eyeliner, and the whole baggy tunic thing was not flattering to her. She felt the distinctive zing of attraction, warmth flooding her face. Then she bit her tongue on purpose because this was her boss. A billionaire CEO whose toilet she’d been hired to scrub. This was not a prospect. This was not some guy offering to buy her a beer at a bar. She reminded herself that the job might not be beneath her, but this guy was way out of her league. Not to mention the ethical issues of flirting with or sleeping with the boss. Nope. She had a degree to finish, and her ambitions would not be derailed by a handsome face. So handsome. So handsome, her brain chirped.