by Livia Lang
Capricorn
Livia Lang
Contents
Copyright
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Epilogue
Also by Livia Lang
About the Author
© Copyright 2016 Livia Lang
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, or to any actual events is purely coincidental. Please respect the author’s work and do not make any unauthorized copies or distributions.
Created with Vellum
Foreword
Capricorn (December 21, 2016 – January 19, 2016)
Family is important to this earth sign, as you will learn shortly. Serious and always in control, you will soon find yourself in a new and exciting position. Don’t let this unexpected chance at happiness slip by.
1
Lillian Scott sighed and reluctantly picked up her feather duster. Her tall black stilettos clacked crisply across the hall's black and white tile floor as she made her way to the enormous china cabinet dominating the left side of the room. It housed at least a dozen large vases, all of them intricately hand-painted with designs of flowers and flying birds. Each vase probably cost more money than Lillian had seen in her life.
They were also a bitch to dust.
Dusting was easily Lillian’s least favorite part of her job. Most people assumed that cleaning toilets or washing windows were the worst things about being a maid. But for Lillian, the monotony of dusting was so much worse. She had to stand for hours, carefully handling each knick-knack that Mr. Isaac Walters owned while her heart pounded in fear of breaking something. Most of his artwork was priceless and required the most delicate of touches to clean - and Lillian was not a particularly delicate girl.
"Why does a young guy like Mr. Walters even own so much crap? He has more bric-a-brac than most grandmas," Lillian muttered under her breath, opening the cabinet and carefully taking out the first vase. It was pure white and had dark red lilies painted along its stem.
She began to lightly brush the surface of the vase, letting her mind wander off. Like most days, instead of concentrating on the task at hand, she began thinking of the future, imagining her college graduation. Her long black robe, having celebratory champagne with her family, receiving a bouquet of white roses. Every detail was vivid in her imagination and a hell of a lot more interesting to think about than dusting.
"But that's a long way off," she sighed, coming out of her reverie. In fact, according to her last calculations, graduation was at least fifty thousand dollars away. School was not cheap, especially when the only campus nearby was a private college with outrageous prices. She'd had good enough grades to get in, but unfortunately, they weren't good enough to get her any scholarships. She’d only been able to complete two years of her botany degree before she'd had to take a leave of absence to earn more money. "It's ok, though. I'm sure things will work out eventually. I'm making enough here that I'll be able to start school again in two years," she said, trying to buoy up her confidence.
She put the first vase down and grabbed the second, a large blue piece with twin handles. However, before she could zone out again, she heard an angry voice booming through the nearest wall. She looked up in confusion and realized she was standing right next to the closed wooden door of Isaac's office. Based on what she was hearing, her boss was not having a very good day.
"I need more time," came his deep voice. "I can't make a decision like that in such a short amount of time!”
Lillian took a step forward, trying to hear more of the conversation. However, Isaac had dropped his voice further, and now all she could make out was a low murmur. Figuring he was going to hang up, she turned to move away.
"This will ruin me! You have got to give me some room to maneuver!"
His shout made her pause again.
Lillian looked around the hallway to see if anyone else was nearby. The whole place was deserted, however, as most of the staff had taken the day off to go to the county fair. She was alone, and there would be no witnesses if she wanted to be a little naughty. The impulse to eavesdrop, especially when she wouldn't be detected, overwhelmed her. She quickly stepped up to the door and pressed her ear to the dark wood. She bit her lip in suspense, and she strained her ears, her whole body quivering in curiosity.
Isaac Walters was a good looking, professional man who had never been mixed up with any scandal that she knew of. But it sounded like he was currently in well over his head with something scintillating. Was it drugs? The mafia? Some secret blackmail? Her imagination was running wild with vivid pictures of Isaac doing shady deals in dark alleyways. She’d always had a bit of a crush on him, and the suggestion that he might be a secret bad boy under his frosty, businessman exterior was making her panties dampen.
"What do you expect? You want me to just screw the first whore that comes my way? I've got fucking standards, Rick!"
Lillian gasped quietly. She had never heard Isaac speak that way; he was always polite and perhaps a little stand-offish around her. But then it wasn’t as if she spent much time with him. She usually only saw him once a day when she brought in his afternoon coffee and cookies. Sure, he'd always make small chit chat and ask her how her day was going. However, they weren't exactly friends, and he certainly never felt enough at ease around her to fire off that kind of cursing!
The only time she’d heard him cuss was in her fantasies. At night, when she was up in her room, she’d imagine all sorts of dirty scenarios involving the billionaire – most of which had quite a lot of “fuck me” and “oh my god” in them. That was all pretend, though, and she was surprised to hear the real Isaac had just as dirty of a mouth as her fantasy Isaac!
"Twelve months? And that's all you can do? Yes, I know the will is iron clad, but I'd have thought you'd have figured out a way around the provision in the fifteen years since the bastard wrote it. Apparently, I pay you to do nothing all day!"
The phone slammed down, and Lillian took a quick step back, realizing that with her employer in such a bad mood, being caught with her ear to the door was probably not the best idea. However, just as she moved her left foot backwards to scurry away, her heel caught on a small lip in the tile. Her foot didn't end up where she expected, and she found her body moving backward with her leg still well in front of her. Before she knew it, she was falling like a domino.
"Oh crap," she gasped, trying to fling an arm out to grab onto something, anything.
Her attempts were in vain, however, and she tumbled to the ground. Her back hit first, and she cried out from the impact. The vase flew out of her hands and hit the tile with a resounding smack that made her teeth chatter. For a single moment, she thought that perhaps it would survive the fall. However, it continued to roll and skidded along the floor before hitting the far wall and disintegrating.
The vase didn't just crack - it imploded. Fine pieces of china rolled in every direction as the priceless vessel disappeared in a puff of smoke and destruction. Lillian could do nothing but sit on her butt, watching the accident happen in slow motion. There would be no gluing the pieces back together and hoping no one would notice.
Within seconds, the office door flew open. "What is happening out there?" came a very grumpy, deep voice.
Staring at the destruction around her, Lilian had no doubt she was about to lose her job. And then she'd have to work twice as long for the chance to ever make it back into school. The reality hit
her hard in the chest, and she struggled to breath. A single tear made its way down her cheek, and try as she might, she couldn't bear to lift her head and look into the angry face of Isaac Walters.
2
"Lillian, what happened?"
She sat still, twisting her apron in her hands. The puffy black skirt was splayed around her, and she felt ridiculous in the get up. It was the outfit of some perfect French maid who always curtsied, brought the tea on time, and never made a mistake. It certainly wasn't the uniform of a college dropout who could barely stand on her own two feet.
"Lillian?" His voice was even sterner now, and she could tell he was losing his patience.
"I'm so sorry," she managed to choke out, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
Emotion was running through her, and she just couldn't find the will to stand. This job was her last lifeline - her only way to get enough money to make it back to school within the next decade. It paid way more than working at Starbucks, that was for sure. Plus she had a room in the mansion to live in, free of charge, along with free meals from the cook most nights. If she lost her job and was forced to go back to paying for rent, food, and working for less money? Well, she might as well just give up on her dream of finishing her degree right then, because it wasn't going to happen.
"What did you do? Lillian, look at me." Isaac's voice was filled with quiet authority, and her head jerked up without her conscious effort.
In the doorway in front of her, Isaac stood with his feet spread wide and his muscled arms crossing his chest in disapproval. He had a rugby player's legs and a wide chest that dwarfed her own slender frame. He looked like an action hero, except he was wearing one very expensive and well-fit Armani suit.
Trying to ignore how hot his body was, she drug her eyes up to his face. His chiseled square jaw was clenched, and his dark eyebrows were knitted together. Most of the time she couldn't help but swoon a little at his handsomeness. In the current situation, however, she just wanted to melt into the floor and never see him again.
"How expensive was that vase?" she managed to croak at last.
His glance shifted to the shattered remains of the vessel, and his look only grew darker. "Millions, but it’s insured. Unfortunately, however, you managed to break the one vase that belonged to my grandmother. That will make it irreplaceable," he added stiffly.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Walters. I really am!"
"How did you manage to drop it? It’s nowhere near the cabinet."
Lillian shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I was standing by the door when my foot got caught on the tile..."
Isaac looked her up and down slowly. "You were standing by my office door?"
"Well..."
"Were you listening in on my private conversations?"
Lillian twitched and looked up at him guiltily. "This isn't going very well at all."
"No, it's really not." He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. "I have to say I'm disappointed, Lillian."
"I'm truly sorry. Especially about your grandmother's vase. I've lost family members too, and it's hard to not to have objects to remember them by. I feel just terrible! Eavesdropping was so stupid, and I don't know what I was thinking. But, please, Mr. Walters, give me another chance. I can work very hard, maybe pull some extra shifts to try, and make it up to you."
"Lillian," Isaac started to say, reproach in his voice, but she quickly cut him off again.
"You don't understand, Mr. Walters. This is the only way I can pay for school, and if I lose this job, I'll be at least forty years old before I'll be able to save up enough to finish out my last credits. My family needs me in town, and there is no way I can transfer to another, cheaper school. Not when I have to help out with my sick aunt on my days off. So, please, consider letting me stay. I promise you I will do absolutely anything to make it up to you. I take full responsibility for my mistake, and I'll work above and beyond from here on out."
Lillian took a gasp of air, her monologue having taken every ounce of breath she had. She looked down at her hands and was surprised to find them clasped in front of her in supplication. She was literally begging on her knees, but by that point, she was well beyond caring. She just knew she had to fix the horrible situation somehow, someway.
"You take care of a sick aunt? I didn't know that," Isaac said at last, after appraising her for several long moments.
"I go and help out every chance I get. She's living at my family's house in my old room. So I go and give Mom and Dad a break from her care, in between shifts here."
Issac’s face softened, and his eyes lost their disappointment. "You work here, help out with your family, and still pursue your education? You are a rare flower indeed, Lillian." Isaac seemed to make up his mind suddenly, uncrossing his arms with a flourish. He extended a hand towards Lillian, helping her off the floor, while adding, "I think we can work something out. In fact, you might be just the right person to help me out with an enormous problem I have currently. Come into my office, and we can discuss details."
Even as upset as she was, Lillian couldn't help but enjoy the way his strong hand felt as it enveloped her own slender one. When he had set her on her feet and turned towards his office, she briefly mourned the loss of his touch. It had been masculine and reassuring – and everything she had dreamed of while in her bed at night. But she quickly rejected those feelings as stupid fancy. She knew she didn't have time to blush and giggle over a powerful man who would never, ever have any interest in her. So, she instead put her head down and hurried after him to learn her fate.
"Please sit," he said, waving at the large black leather chair that sat near the door.
She settled in gingerly, watching as Isaac meandered around the room. He seemed thoughtful as he ran his hand over the various statues and awards sitting on his shelves, and he was in no rush to begin speaking. When he finally made his way to his large cherry desk, he didn't sit behind it. Instead, he leaned on it, facing her with his arms stuffed in his pockets.
"Did you hear much of my conversation earlier?" he asked at last as he stared at her intently.
"No, not really," she answered, her cheeks beginning to turn red again under his heavy gaze. She cursed the fact that she had always been a blusher. Half the boys in middle school had been able to make her blush just by calling her name - and now it appeared she wasn't able to control it much better in adulthood!
"But you no doubt could hear that something was wrong, right? Otherwise, I doubt you would have been so eager to try and listen in."
"I could hear your voice rising in anger a bit; that's true..."
He held up his hand to stop her before she could make any excuses. "No, it's ok. Curiosity is normal. I'm sure I was shouting pretty loudly, too." He sighed and looked at the ceiling as he continued. "Most people would be yelling, I'd think, if they learned that everything they had worked for might be ripped out from under them."
"Sir?"
His eyes snapped back to her, and he gave a small smile. "You can call me Isaac. No need to be saying 'sir' or 'Mr. Walters’ all the time. Now, do you know much about my family?"
Lillian shrugged. "Not really, no. I believe both your parents have passed away, and you don’t have any siblings?"
"Yes, my parents sadly died in a plane crash when I small, and I was raised by my grandparents. My grandmother was a lovely, kind woman. Unfortunately, she happened to be married to a cantankerous old man with a heart of steel. My grandfather built this entire family's fortune through hard work and a brutal work ethic, and he expected everyone else to follow suit." Isaac was pacing again, his face dark and troubled. "When it came time for him to make his will, he decided to make certain...stipulations. Ostensibly because he wanted to make sure the family business was continued on in a way he deemed acceptable. But, in all honesty, he probably designed a bunch of rules he knew would drive me mad, because he enjoyed those types of unpleasant jokes."
"What are the stipulations?"
"I had to attend his a
lma mater, Princeton. I had to major in business, learn two languages, and spend an adequate time at charity events. Basically, I had to play a role – be what he considered a proper ‘gentleman.’ He had mapped out pretty much every minute of my life, trying to design traps to trip me up. Except I managed to fulfill every obligation, and, according to his will, I was to inherit everything at the age of twenty-eight with no further interference from him or his executers."
"And you are twenty-seven now. So I take it there is still an obligation left?"
He shot her an approving look. "Very smart. Yes, there is a final obligation that wasn't revealed to me until recently. I am supposed to produce an heir of my own by my birthday. Grandpa was rather obsessed with the idea of lineages, and I'm sure he had some fear I'd die a bachelor and leave all the money to some unworthy cousin or something. Who knows what the old fool thought. What matters is that I need to produce a child in the next eleven months, or I'll lose my standing in the will. Everything will go to a charity."
"He's going to force you to have a child? Is that legal?"
"I've had very good and very expensive lawyers looking into it for years. The idea is crazy and revolting but legal. He could give away his money however he wanted, and there isn’t much to be done about it.” He stopped pacing and looked at her seriously. “After everything that’s happened, I don't intend to lose now. That's where you come in."
"Where I come in? I'm sorry, but I don't see how I could possibly help." Lillian’s mouth felt a little dry. She could see what was coming next, but her mind refused to believe it.
Isaac was a dreamboat - the type of guy they put in romance novels and cheesy movies. He surely had a hundred models lined up around the block waiting to jump in his bed, right? There was no way he’d want to propose something indecent to a clumsy, awkward maid, right?