I can tell from the tone of her voice that it’s been a rough day. Holly’s nanny quit a little over a week ago. It’s obvious to me that the challenge of managing me and a four-year-old is more than she bargained for. I need to step up the hunt for a nanny.
I buzz my assistant, Kris. “Have you received any profiles from the agency? I think Margaret is about to crack.”
Kris laughs lightly. “Margaret’s working your conscience pretty good, huh?”
“I don’t think she’s that good of an actress,” I tell her as I check my e-mail. “She’s a straight player. Can you send me the profiles we have so far?”
“Sure. Not a problem.”
A few minutes later, Kris brings me what she has. I flip through them. Truthfully, my brain has shut down for the day. I might as well go home. I know when I have hit the proverbial wall.
Then, my hand hovers over the last CV. No. It can’t be! What are the chances?
My fingers trace the name. Rebecca Bromley.
I scan her resume. She studied in early childhood education at the University of Virginia. So she did go to college like she always kept saying! But Virginia? That was never on her radar. My heart beats faster. I have to wonder why she is applying for this position. The description stipulates that it is a live-in position. I ponder this. That would imply that she is unattached. Her last name is still the same, and I can’t imagine anyone in a serious relationship agreeing to such an arrangement.
Maybe this is my chance to finally get some answers.
I buzz Kris. “See if you can get an appointment scheduled with Rebecca Bromley.”
Afterward, I lean back in my chair. Nothing has changed. Damn! I’m still chasing unicorns!
CHAPTER 4
Rebecca
I drive up to the gate of the massive estate in the affluent suburb of Buckhead, Georgia. I enter the code I was given, and the gates open wide. I drive along the winding driveway in a bit of shock. Buckhead is expensive enough for a mansion on a four-acre lot. This is at least ten acres. I don’t know who my prospective employer is, but the wealth is obvious. I am unsure if I should be intimidated or excited. One thing I do know: I am upping the salary requirement!
I think about why I am here. I originally wanted to be a public-school teacher, pre-k. But with all my student loans and helping support my father, I really don’t have much of a choice but to hire out to the highest bidder. My good deeds will have to wait if they ever come at all.
My main concern is my father. He needs a fresh start. Since leaving the farm, he has floundered. He was meant to stay on the farm, work the soil as his family had for countless generations. When they took that away from him, they took the very essence of him. He is a shell of his former self, but I love him. At least he stayed, unlike my mother.
I park my car in front of what appears to be the entrance. The estate is so large and sprawling that it is difficult to tell.
I ring the doorbell and wait. The butler greets me. His demeanor is austere. I get it. I’m supposed to be the hired help. Why bother being pleasant?
He leads me to a large room. I take a seat in one of the leather chairs flanking the unlit fireplace. Bookshelves line the walls, and a large mahogany desk takes up much of one corner. Large French doors look out onto a vast terrace. I’ve never been in a true upper crust library before, but I imagine this is what it must be like.
“So, you must be Rebecca,” a woman says, drawing me away from my observations. She appears to be in her fifties, with the slightest hint of white gray running from her temples through her chocolate hair and framing her face. She is dressed in a gray tailored pantsuit, a simple strand of pearls adding to her elegant air.
I stand up and shake her hand. “Yes.”
She smiles at me and shakes my hand firmly. Behind her eyes, I see a sternness. Note to self: proceed with caution.
She places a file on the desk. “I suppose the agency has filled you in on the basics. This is a live-in position as the nanny for a four-year-old girl.”
I nod. “They did.”
“The girl’s name is Holly. She’s a very easy child, but I can’t manage her and this household at the same time. Her father is intent that she receives the very best care and as much early intellectual stimulation as possible.” She eyes me very seriously. “Holly is highly intelligent. That has been obvious from the moment she began to talk. Are you up to working with a gifted child? If not, this may not be the job for you.”
‘Actually,” I tell her confidently, “that is my specialty.”
She seems to relax a bit. “That’s good. Holly is a special child.”
“Margaret, is this my interview?”
I stop short. I know that voice. It is deeper, but it is the same, the same. My heart begins to pound furiously. I am afraid to turn and look.
“Yes, Mr. Fletcher. Her name is Rebecca Bromley. Her file is on the desk,” the woman tells him as he exits the room. As she closes the door, she adds, “Please let me know if you need anything.”
“So we meet again,” he says after an extended silence.
He is taller. His chest is broader, filling the jacket of his suit and adding to the impression of power. His raven hair is much like I remember, but with a rakishly sophisticated cut. He’s a far cry from the boy I once knew who was always comfortable in t-shirts and jeans. The man standing before me is one who is cultured, powerful, and magnetic.
I can’t say anything. My head is spinning. My blood is boiling. How dares he, after everything his family did to mine, invite me to his house and pretend like we are some old friends?!? Blindly, I grab my purse and head towards the door in a rush to be away from him.
I feel a hand seizing my arm with an unyielding force. “Don’t leave.”
I stop and stare coldly ahead. “Take your hand off me. Now!”
“You leave now, and I tell the agency you ran out on an interview.”
Oh, how much I hate him!
I reluctantly turn to look at him. He’s serious. Sensing he has the upper hand, he continues, “They will drop you like a hot potato.”
I look away. He’s right. If I leave now, I might as well find another agency. I don’t have the time to start over.
“No personal questions,” I say dully, not looking at him.
He releases my arm. “I promise.”
I rub my arm where his hand was. It’s going to leave a bruise. “Also, don’t touch me again. You can call the agency, but I can call the police. Perhaps you should keep that in mind.”
He has the decency to look ashamed. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Reluctantly, I retake my seat, mentally begging for this to be over.
Satisfied that I’m not leaving, he takes the folder from the desk and sits in the chair opposite me.
“So, where did you graduate from high school?” he asks.
“Fairfax High School,” I answer. Basically, he just found out where I moved after my family left. Nice one.
“What about college?” His voice is casual, but I can hear the underlying tension he is trying to hide.
I give him a sardonic look. “I believe it tells you that on my resume. If I remember correctly, you can read.”
“Note to the agency: has an attitude,” he says as he proceeds to write something in my file.
He places the file in his lap. “So why do you want to be a nanny? Most people with your background go on to teach in a school system.”
I have to ponder my answer. How honest should I be? I decide to play it straight. “The money is better if you get the right situation. Between student loans and family obligations, this makes the most sense for right now.”
He looks at me quizzically. “Family obligations?”
Damn! I let that slip in!
I toss it back. “Isn’t that a personal question?”
He nods in silent concession. “This is a live-in assignment. You are aware of that. C
orrect?”
I eye him speculatively. “It was made clear by the agency. Margaret, too.”
“That means you live here. Just you.” He gives me an intense look. “That means no boyfriends, no overnights, no…children.”
He’s pushing the envelope, but I hold back calmly. “I understand.”
“So,” he pauses, “do you have any of those?”
That’s it! I’m done!
I stand up, hoping I don’t look as flustered as I feel. “I don’t believe this is going to work, Mr. Fletcher.”
As I turn away, he says from behind me,” You haven’t even found out the salary.”
I don’t bother turning around. “There isn’t enough.”
“How does $90,000 a year sound?” he counters.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
I draw my breath in sharply. That’s more than double the starting salary for a grade-school teacher. I would be crazy to turn it down!
Sensing my indecision, he continues, “You will stay in the guesthouse. All utilities are included. It’s a good deal.” He pauses. “Unless, of course, you have better offers in the works.”
He knows better. I can tell. I am angry that he has me backed into a corner. I feel like a mouse standing in the shadow of a cat, defeated and awaiting the inevitable. I have a glimpse of how my father must have felt at the hands of George Fletcher. With that thought, the seed of a plan begins to take form. It’s time for the Fletchers to pay for their treachery.
I turn to face him, a smile spreading on my face. “I’ll take it.” His surprise is obvious. “Just for a month,” I qualify. “We can see how it works out before committing to a longer contract.”
It gives me satisfaction to see the uncertainty in his eyes. Maybe this mouse has a few tricks up her sleeve that the cat doesn’t know about yet.
“S-Sure. I’ll have Margaret make the arrangements with the agency.” He’s trying so hard to stay cool.
We shake hands on the deal, and he escorts me to the door. As I start my car, I must wonder if I am getting into something I will regret.
***
Once back to my apartment, I open a bottle of cabernet and settle in on the sofa, turning on the television.
“So how did it go?” Terri asks as she enters the living room, drying her hair with a towel.
Terri is my roommate. We went to college together. She is a financial analyst for a large company based here in Atlanta. Fortunately, she is also generous. I have the guest room and clean the apartment in exchange for a lower rent rate. Really, she’s doing me a favor. She cleans up after herself. In all honesty, she just agreed to the arrangement because she knows my history. For once, I am getting a break in life.
“Where are you going?”
“Nice try to change the subject,” she quips as she plops into a big, comfy chair. “Was it everything it was hyped up to be?”
I take a sip of my wine. “Better. $90,000 a year and I have my own house on the property.”
Terri’s eyes widen. “How do I get that deal?”
“Not bad, huh?” I say sarcastically.
She eyes me curiously. “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t so great a deal, after all?”
“Remember me telling you about how my family lost everything because my best friend’s father cheated my father in a scam?”
She nods. “I do.”
“Remember Cameron?”
Terri’s eyes widen in surprise. “Tell me it’s not what I am thinking!”
“I wish I could say it isn’t. He’s the employer,” I tell her dryly as I take a sip of wine.
A wary look replaces her surprise. “You aren’t going to take it. Are you?”
“How can I not? You’re the financial analyst. Spin it for me where I can’t. You know my situation. What other choice do I have?”
She shakes her head. “You have to.”
I nod. “I have a plan, though.”
Terri’s face purses into a frown. “Do tell?”
I ponder this. “Not now. I can’t even think it all the way through in my head, much less say it out loud.”
She looks like she wants to say more, but she resists. That’s unusual for her.
“So, where are you going?” I ask, changing the subject, this time successfully.
She smiles. She knows me too well, but she gives me a pass. “I am meeting Hillarie at Gray’s.”
I grin at her. “Going high-end, I see.”
Terri shakes her head. “This is all Hillarie. She met a guy in Sunday School class. He likes to go there.”
“Really? Sunday School class? I never thought of Hillarie as the church-going type.”
“She’s been hanging out at Peachtree Road Methodist, lying in wait of prey. What can I say? She’s strategic if anything!” Terri laughs lightly as she goes and pours herself a glass of wine, too. “If she had thought she could pull off the deal you were just offered, she would have gone into teaching. Is he still good-looking?
“More than ever,” I tell her grimly.
Terri gives me a sideways glance. “I guess that’s a bad thing?”
I shrug my shoulders. “It doesn’t help. It would be easier if he were flabby and balding.”
“So he has a daughter. Is he married?”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t seem like he is. I didn’t see a ring. He has one stern personal assistant, though. She gave me the distinct impression that I had better stay in line, or else!”
“I really can’t say much, given my plan. She has every right to be protective. I’m sure that’s part of her job, and she appears to do it quite well.”
Terri looks at me cautiously. “You aren’t about to do anything stupid, are you?”
I take a sip of my wine. “Define stupid.”
The look on her face tells me she has her doubts. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
She retreats to her bathroom to finish getting ready. I am glad to be alone. What I have planned, I do not want to share. It scares me.
Terri emerges with her blond hair caught up in an elegant knot. “How do I look?”
She knows already. I don’t have to tell her. “You look beautiful.”
Once Terri is gone, I think back to that day my life changed forever. When I think of how Cameron’s father manipulated our lives without any thought to what we would face, I feel intense anger burning within me. After moving to Virginia, my parents’ marriage deteriorated. My mother’s resentfulness, at first, stayed on a low boil. After a few years of failed jobs and unpaid bills, it surfaced in its full rage. She made it clear that she blamed, not just my father, but me, too. I guess she felt I was partially responsible because of my relationship with Cameron. If she only knew how betrayed I felt by him. Eventually, she left us, all of us. I’m not sure if my grandmother even knows where she is now. For all of her self-righteousness, she was guiltier of destroying our family than George Fletcher. Up until then, my father at least kept trying. Once she left, he gave up. If not for my grandmother, I’m not sure how we would have made it. I managed to eke by on scholarships and part-time jobs to get through college. Now, every red cent beyond the non-essentials goes back home. I’m just lucky that Terri has been such a good friend.
I swirl the crimsons content of my glass as I contemplate what I am about to do. Cameron needs to pay for what his family did to mine. From the looks of it, he most certainly can. He probably even made all of that money off what they stole from my family. Somebody needs to make restitution.
When Cameron offered me the job, I didn’t accept it because of the salary. I accepted because revenge is a dish best served cold. I plan to seduce him. That shouldn’t be too difficult given how he looked at me during our meeting. When he grabbed my arm, the sexual tension was electric. Men make stupid mistakes when sex is on the table. He is no different. I will make a tape recording it all. A man in his position has everything to lose if something like that gets out, unlike my f
ather and me, who have nothing left to lose.
I will extract justice if it’s the last thing I do.
CHAPTER 5
Cameron
I stare out over the pool. Holly is in the middle of swimming lessons. I smile as she swims to her teacher for the first time without her floaties. Normally, I wouldn’t be here, but I decided to take the day off. It’s Rebecca’s first day as Holly’s nanny. I glance at my watch. She should be here any minute.
I think back to our meeting last week. She was more beautiful than ever, her auburn hair a fiery testament to her feisty nature, her trim body subtly outlined by her suit. I still don’t understand the sudden turnaround in her decision. I really don’t care, though. This is my opportunity to get to know the woman she’s become. Maybe I will finally get some answers as to why she left the way she did, why she cut off all contact. Why she hates me so much... I know it’s a longshot, but part of me hopes that we can try to regain what once seemed lost.
“Rebecca is here, Mr. Fletcher,” Margaret says from behind me. I feel my heart quicken. “Do you want me to show her to the guesthouse?”
“No,” I tell Margaret, realizing my voice sounds sharper than it should. “I’ll show her myself. Where is she?”
“The library.” She eyes me keenly. After years of working together, she knows when even the slightest thing is off. I can almost see her red alert button going off.
I make my way to the library. Rebecca is sitting in the same chair, waiting. I take a selfish moment to observe her. Her silken hair is swept up from her neck. Soft tendrils frame her face. Her porcelain skin is a work of natural perfection if such a thing exists. Her look is elegant in its simplicity. At this moment, she turns her gaze on me, and I am fully entranced by her emerald-green stare. Those eyes have haunted me all these last twelve years, tugging at the edges of my dreams.
“How are you today?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off her.
“I’m well. Just ready to get started.” She smiles pleasantly, but it doesn’t seem to reach her eyes.
Working For My Arch Enemy: Enemies To Lovers Romance Page 2