Making Home Ch. 06

Chapter Six:

Dinner ended up being really nice. Mr. Crawford ordered for me and Grace kept me occupied with medical talk. We parted with her pulling me in for a friendly hug, something I wasn't used to, but I actually didn't want to resist. If I'm being honest, it felt kind of nice. I was now seated in Mr. Crawford's vehicle, and I waited for him to start the car to take me home. Regardless of where I sat with him, I at least had an opportunity with Grace as she gave me her info so I could shadow.

We had sat in silence for a few minutes. He was working on something on his phone, and I didn't want to interrupt him. I couldn't read his posture or energy, but I suspected that he wasn't too pleased about my new post graduate announcement. After tonight, he would have to be pretty dense to have not realized it was what I wanted to do.

With a sigh, he set his phone down and looked over at me. "Why didn't you tell me about medical school, Avery?"

I turned to look at the dashboard and tried to rack my brain for anything that might sound convincing. But what liars don't tell you about telling lies? The upkeep is absolutely draining. Leaving out information is one thing. Trying to live a lie is a complete other.

With a sigh, I started wringing my hands in my lap. "I didn't think you'd hire me and," I took a few more breaths as my eyes threatened to tear up, "I really need this job."

The muscles in his jaw flexed. "All of the applicants need this job. That's no excuse to hide information. Did you think I wouldn't eventually find out?"

"I'm sorry. I had planned on telling you if I got into medical school. There's still a chance that I won't."

He chuckled, but it sounded more incredulous than happy. "With how you talk about whatever it was you were, toxicology of what was it again?"

"Toxicology of fish in our polluted waterways. It was a study that I helped Dr. Lawrence with. We found escalated hormone levels over a few years, which was an interesting new prospective environmental baseline." Help meaning, I prepared slides, a very tedious and lab rat kind of volunteer job, but the payout was that we all got to sit in on the meetings to discuss the research. I learned a lot.

His eyes were kind as he assessed me. "You're very passionate. It was a joy to listen to you talk about it with Grace tonight. I really like that about you."

"You do?" I looked over at him, hopeful.

"Yes. But I can't have you keeping secrets. I think it's obvious why I can't."

My head fell. I needed this interview to go well, and it obviously hadn't. And all because I was trying hard not to lose it. I chewed on my lip, desperate to stave off my crashing emotions.

"I understand." I swallowed audibly. "I do appreciate the opportunity, Mr. Crawford. And thank you for dinner."

He only nodded and started the vehicle. The drive back to my house was quiet as he maneuvered the streets, the orange flashes of light dancing across my lap as we passed under streetlamps. It wasn't long before we were in my driveway again, and he had exited the vehicle to walk me to the door. Once I unlocked the house, I made to move inside without looking back at him.

He cleared his throat noisily, "I'm going to be up front with you. This job is going to put you in the public eye in places that matter for me and my businesses. I need to know that you're not going to do anything to undermine me, my authority, or to embarrass me. Part of what I'm trying to build up is based on my reputation. You, as an employee, can affect that in either a positive way or a negative way."

I whipped around so fast that I almost slipped on the ice on our doorstep. "What? What are you saying?"

"I want to hire you, Avery. That's what I'm saying."

"But I thought- "

"You thought wrong. However, I must repeat that I absolutely can't have any more secrets. Only the truth from now on."

I couldn't even speak. My head was nodding so quickly that I was starting to develop a small ache at the front and top part of my skull. My breathing increased as I scanned his face for any sign that he was joking. When he remained stoic and serious, my body moved of its own accord and I jumped into his arms, clutching him against me.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I was laughing and half crying as I squeezed him. I was so excited that I hadn't realized that his arms had wrapped around me, returning my impromptu hug.

His breath was warm as he spoke quietly in my ear, "I still would like to discuss a few things. Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?"

I didn't even care if I had something going on during lunch hour. "Yes! Of course!"

He nodded and set me down, pulling away slowly. "Very well. Lunch, then. I'll send my driver to come pick you up at around 11:45. Any food allergies?"

"Nope!" I grinned at him like the idiot I felt like I was.

A chuckle bubbled out of him. "Good. Until tomorrow, then. Get some rest," his eyes indicated the house dismissively with his hands thrust into the pockets of his overcoat.

"Yes, sir!" I turned and walked into the house, turning to face him as I closed the door. "If you weren't going to be my boss, I could kiss you, you know."

He only gave me a tight smile and nodded. "Goodnight, Avery."

"Goodnight, sir."

ELIJAH

As soon as I was back on the road, I dialed Patricia.

Her voice was groggy when she answered, as if she had been sleeping and I woke her, "Why are you calling me? I clocked out four hours ago."

"She's hired." My grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"What?"

I coughed and cleared my throat. "Avery. You were right, I'm hiring her."

"Oh."

The line was silent, and I watched the road as I cut through the darkness. I thought she may have hung up, but I glanced at the screen and saw that she was still on the line.

"Pat?"

"I'm here. Sorry. I'm just a little surprised."

I scoffed. "Why is that?"

"You never listen to me." If the air between us on a telephone call could be awkward, it was.

"Well, maybe after this I'll find a reason to try harder to." I could sense her smile. Not one of spite, but relief.

"Right. Night, Boss."

"Goodnight."

I ended the call and hit the button to my garage before pulling into the open space. The house was quiet when I walked in. If Ophelia had still been around, it wouldn't have changed much. Her presence was made apparent through the décor, but not through sound or action. After the split, I gave Chloe full reign to come and redecorate. Even if Avery assumed the role I needed her for, she wouldn't be fulfilling those aspects.

I climbed the stairs to my suite and entered the entry to my room, taking a left into the bedroom. It had been a long day, and I honestly wanted to just hit the gym and exercise my stress away. Patricia had told me that I was becoming too obsessed with it, and I had really drawn the line when I offered her the balanced protein rich lunch that I had asked my cook, Clyde, to come up with. I recalled the day she sat in my office and opened the container to a colorful meal. Low sodium, low saturated fats, flavored with only herbs and spices, she had spat it out and called it bland before ordering take-out. She had bullied me into paying for it since she fussed that she was 'too old' to be in a place where she couldn't enjoy the mediocre parts of her life. I paid for it, but I had been glad to. She had been a rock more than I should have utilized of her. I dreaded the idea of her retiring in ten years.

I walked down the hall to my closet and opened the drawer that I knew would house my gym shorts. I threw on a pair, pulled a shirt off of a hanger, and quickly dressed. A quick jog, a few burpees, bench press, and some deadlifts would be precisely what I needed. I worked out for an hour in the home gym until my body was fatigued enough for me to sleep well. As I walked through the house back to my room, the quiet consumed me and fostered a nest for thoughts.

When I had held Avery against me, it was much more pleasant than I thought it might be. And the last line, 'I could kiss you', had me wondering if she had some kind of sixth sense of what I actually had planned for her. I needed to find a way to make it all platonic, but it was difficult when I started thinking about her lips. She had worn lipstick tonight, it was obvious, but I didn't realize that her natural color already looked as if she was. I came to realize that the first interview was Avery in the raw. Messy hair, big dark eyes, and full kissable lips. I shoved those thoughts in the back of my mind, trying to realign myself with my goals. Getting attached would be messy. And with a young woman like her? Especially so.

AVERY

Thursday meant another final in the evening. I had some time to kill before lunch with Mr. Crawford, and then it was study time. Since he was going to hire me, I decided I would use the morning to type out my letter of resignation to the library as well as a letter to the landlord stating my official withdrawal from the lease. Jess had already let me know that they found a potential replacement roommate when I came home last night so everything seemed to be falling into place.

I laid in bed, scrolling on my phone before having to get up to move around. I searched 'Elijah Crawford' again and a variety of his pictures popped up. He was so handsome. I studied his face, focusing on his eyes. I once read that eyes are the windows to a person's soul. Every picture of him showed the same thing. His expression was practiced and picturesque, but there was something deeper to his gaze. Something borderline sad and lonely. I closed out the app as Jess came into the room fresh from a shower. I hopped up to go take my turn.

"I'll make sure to wash the dress before I return it to you."

She shook her head. "Keep it. Please. It looked great on you anyway." Her smile was good. Sincere. Like it was making her genuinely happy to help someone out. I had never noticed it before, but that was the way she had always looked when offering something to me.

Her expression was infectious, and I found myself grinning in response. "Alright. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I walked to the bathroom and turned the shower on as I stripped. Mr. Crawford's driver would be here in an hour, and I had to make myself at least presentable.

With my letters all typed up and sent, I waited by the front window to watch for Mr. Crawford's driver. He hadn't given me any more information than that's how I would arrive to have lunch with him. Who in the world even had a driver? Rich people. I suppose that made sense. Almost on the dot, a black SUV pulled into our driveway at 11:45am. I exited the house and made my way to the vehicle, a woman dressed in a suit hopping out and moving to open the door for me.

"Good morning, Ms. Mitts. My name is Amanda."

"Nice to meet you, Amanda. You don't have to get my door." I moved to sit in the vehicle, and she simply smiled and nodded before closing the door after me.

Although Amanda was pleasant, she wasn't very talkative. She delivered me to the building I had first entered on Tuesday, and I approached the reception desk again. The same woman as before was working behind the counter, and she ignored me as I walked up to her. I cleared my throat, but she simply held up a single finger while her eyes remained glued to the screen. I was going to be late again if she kept this up. I pulled out my phone and quickly typed out an email to Patricia that I was waiting in the lobby. She replied almost immediately, telling me to take the elevator to the top floor. I walked away from the counter.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I have an appointment with Mr. Crawford."

"You need to wait for me to send you up. You can't just walk around here like you own the place."

I shrugged. What was her deal? "I'm not. But I don't want to be late."

"You can wait, or I'll have security show you out. Your choice."

I licked my lips and took a deep breath. I walked back over to the seats against one wall and I typed out another email to Patricia, explaining the situation. It wasn't but a few moments later that the elevator pinged, and Mr. Crawford walked out. He smiled warmly at me and held up a finger as he veered off to the counter. The lady noticed him immediately and smoothed out her blouse before offering him her best smile.

"Ms. Simon, could you please enlighten me as to why Ms. Mitts is sitting down here in the lobby when she has an appointment with me?"

Her eyes darted over to me and then back to Mr. Crawford. She smiled nervously. "I wasn't aware. She was just going to walk around in the building without any clearance."

He leaned on the counter with a forearm resting on the granite. "Hm. Well, I was pretty sure I asked Patricia to give her clearance this morning. I'll have to double check that email thread. In the meantime, I'll send you an email following up that Ms. Mitts should have full clearance from this day on."

Her eyes were wide, quite possibly with fear. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He turned and held an arm out in the direction of the elevator. "Ms. Mitts? Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

He smiled and waited for me to approach him, and then placed a hand at the small of my back to lead me. Was this customary for business? I wasn't familiar with these kinds of gestures, and it didn't seem right. However, it did feel nice, and I didn't want to tell him to remove his hand. I looked back at the receptionist, and she scowled at me. What a great start to my employment here.

Mr. Crawford's office was a modest sized room on the top floor of the building. Tall windows lined two of the walls, much like the conference room, and the color scheme was warm, yet masculine. Mahogany furniture, deep reds, and oil paintings. It wasn't what I had expected at all. I had imagined him going with the sleek clean white/black/greys look, and not something so warm and inviting. He motioned toward a table with two food containers, and I took a seat across from him. It looked like food he had brought from home.

"Did you cook this?"

"No. My cook made this. You'll meet him soon if all goes as planned. Do you like salmon?"

I opened up the container and looked at the contents. I could smell garlic, miso, ginger, and even honey. There was a bed of quinoa and what looked like mixed roasted vegetables to the side. I started salivating as I breathed it in.

"I love salmon. This is great." I didn't wait to dig into the food, and barely registered that Mr. Crawford had so elegantly unfolded a napkin to lay across his lap before picking up a knife and fork to cut his food patiently.

While I worked at my own meal, he had paused to remove a document from a folder he had set to the side and pushed it on the table toward me. I recognized the title at the top: Nondisclosure Agreement.

"This is the NDA?"

"Yes. If you would please sign it, then we can begin to discuss the intimate details of the job."

I normally would have read through it, but I knew I was going to take the job whether I did or not. I picked up the pen he had laid on top of the document and signed the bottom on the line. I slid the paper back and resumed eating.

"You didn't read it."

"I want the job regardless."

He sighed but didn't complain and tucked the document carefully away. "This next part will require a monumental amount of trust more than anything. The NDA was to protect my company's secrets and information rather than hold you to keeping a secret for me."

He had my attention. I quickly finished up my food so I could focus on him. "I don't think I understand. I thought you needed someone to keep house."

He sighed. "That's only part of it. I didn't put out a formal job advertisement because I need someone who I can mold into the person I need to fit my needs. Of course, there are the physical household and employee matters that you might be organizing and tending to, but then you'll also be attending dinner parties and perhaps even hosting them. You will be a head of the household in a sense, but that house is still my house at the end of the day. What you say goes, but what I say is law."

My head felt heavy with fog. Dinner parties? I had never even attended one let alone hosted one. My self-doubt began to rear her ugly head and grin maliciously at me.

"I don't know if I'm the right person for that, honestly. Why don't you just hire a socialite? Or even someone who was brought up with that kind of money? I don't think that's a role I even know how to fill."

He set his fork down and used his napkin to wipe at his mouth. "I've considered what you're saying. However, affluent upbringing would only add a level of drama to what I want to achieve. Women of that caliber want more than what I can offer. They want access to large amounts of my money, and they want families to secure their role in my life. I need someone who understands that our relationship is professional, yet who will be able to bring a relationship-esque touch to the parts of my professional life when in the public eye. Does that make sense at all?"

I tried to work through what he was implying. I thought I had a good idea of what he was saying, but I wasn't completely sure just yet. "You want me to be your fake girlfriend?"

He took a drink from his water glass and set it back down into its place. "If that's the way you perceive it. I'm merely looking for an employee. I'm not looking for emotional attachment neither offering it, so I suppose that would be a fair label for it."

"Does this mean I won't be allowed to date anyone outside of your... er, arrangement?" I wasn't interested in anyone, nor was anyone really interested in me. I just needed to know the boundaries.

He nodded. "I won't be either if you are hired. Like I said, image."

I thought back to the news article I had read earlier yesterday. "So, let me get this straight. You want someone who will basically run your household, cater to your work friends and clients, who will spend time with you and learn all kinds of intimate details, but no lovey dovey during off scenes?"

"Precisely."

"Oh." I shrugged. "Well, that sounds doable."

He took a bite of his food. "I wasn't sure if you were the right fit for this if I'm being honest. The first interview was a bit of a wash, and then yesterday you revealed something you had been keeping from me. But I think you would be a refreshing take on that aspect of my life, a different direction that could improve my image with your accomplishments. If I can trust you, I think we might be able to make this work. What are your thoughts so far?"

I swallowed. Of course, I was flattered by what he had to say. He thought a little more highly of me than I probably deserved.

I began to wring my hands in my lap. "Honestly, I'm intimidated by all of it. I'm curious, though, and I think I can do it. There's just going to be a bit of a learning curve. I think I can be your girl if you can have enough patience with me."

ELIJAH

'Be your girl' hit me in a different way than I had expected it to. My first instinct was aversion, but then I briefly considered Avery in a different light. I shook those thoughts from my mind and focused on my goals. I was impressed with how she was handling this conversation. She brought a level of maturity and understanding I had hoped for, but not expected. I wanted her for this job.

I gave her my best smile. "Definitely not the answer I was expecting, but I do like what I hear. Although aren't you worried that I'll mold you into someone you wouldn't like to be? That's a lot of responsibility to entrust a stranger."

"I don't worry too much."

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up my throat. "That's reassuring."

She shook her head. "No, what I mean to say is that I already know who I am."

I fingered the rim of my glass and narrowed my gaze on her. She fidgeted slightly but this time didn't balk under my scrutiny. I cleared my throat. "And who are you, then?"