by Nella Tyler
My heart skipped a beat. I didn't want him to come to my condo. There was no way a maid could have afforded a condo in my location. I tried to think of a quick excuse. "Actually, I'm spending the morning with my friend. She's driving. How about I just have her drop me off at the park on Fifth Street when we're finished? I wouldn't mind just sitting outdoors for a little while before you come pick me up. Would that be okay with you?"
I felt a little guilty being so secretive, but I felt it was necessary. I also realized that continuing to keep my secret could very well spell an end to our new and burgeoning relationship before it even got off the ground. Still, I didn't want to tell him over the phone.
"That sounds fine," he said. "Dress comfortable. Nothing fancy."
"Okay," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, Molly."
Chapter 5
The day dawned bright and warm, but not as humid as typical for this time of year. It looked like it was going to turn out to be a perfect day for whatever plans Luke had made for our date. While I still wasn't quite sure I was making the right decision, I would see what happened. I knew that Samantha wouldn't be happy with me if I told her about it, so I didn't. After all, one could only take so much criticism in one day.
I respected Samantha's opinion and I did take her cautions under consideration, but after talking to Luke, I realized that he wouldn't purposely do anything to harm my reputation. Of course, I knew things could get out; it was really hard to keep a secret no matter where you worked, whether an office building or an estate. People saw, people talked. Still, Luke didn't have that many people working for him. There were only three, as a matter of fact; at least at the moment. I had yet to even see the gardener, and I only saw the chef on rare occasions. As far as I knew, he had never even seen Luke and me together in the same room.
For now, I figured things would be relatively safe and I didn't have the worry about anyone spying on me. While my parents were certainly known in the higher social circles around Raleigh, I didn't think many people knew me personally. Luke was still relatively new to the area, or so I gathered, so he probably didn’t know that many people, either. Without fodder to feed the gossip mill, I had a feeling that no one would see us together and even if they did, not think much of it.
I felt bad about lying to Luke – again – about being out and about this morning. I knew that sooner or later, I would have to tell him about my background, but I wanted to see how today went first. It wasn't like we were going steady or anything. It was just a day out, no strings attached.
I kept myself busy with chores most of the morning, and then, with an hour before I was to meet him at the park, I left my condo and strolled to the park. It was a pleasant half-hour walk. It was a good time for me to try to clear my mind, push away the hundreds of questions gnawing in my brain, and just trying to find my own Zen space before our date, if that's what I even wanted to call it. I wasn't sure. I did feel a little better, though, as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, by admitting to myself that yes, I was attracted to Luke, and yes, I wanted to get to know him better.
If and when I had to, I'd make a decision regarding my job, tell him about my background, and about my father. For now, however, I would just leave things the way they were. I would let Luke take the lead.
When I reached the park, I sat down on my favorite bench, within easy view of the main parking lot that served the beautifully landscaped park. I heard the kids playing in the distance behind me, and contented myself with watching an older couple stroll slowly along the path through the trees. Cars came and went. Then I recognized Luke's jeep pulling into the parking lot. I smiled. He could have any car in the world, but he certainly wasn't ostentatious when it came to his choice of vehicles. Yes he had another car and a driver, but I was glad to see that he was driving his own car today.
I watched as he got out of the jeep and shut the door, removing a pair of sunglasses to glance around the park, obviously looking for me. I took the moment to admire his profile. I don't think I could ever get tired of looking at him. He was so handsome. Still, I knew there was more to people than just their appearance. I certainly wouldn't want someone judging me on my appearance alone, so I wouldn't do the same to Luke. I lifted my arm and called out to him.
"Luke!"
He turned to the sound of my voice and flashed a brilliant smile. I think it was the first real smile that I'd seen from him. He walked over, his eyes never leaving me. His gaze left me feeling warm and tingly in all the right places. Damn. He paused in front of the bench, looking down at me.
"Hi, Molly," he said.
"Hello, Luke," I said, suddenly feeling shy and uncertain.
"This is a nice park," he commented. "I've never been here."
"I come here all the time, mainly to clear my mind and to relax." To my surprise, he sat down on the bench next to me, not touching, but close enough. He draped his arm over the back of the bench near my shoulders. I felt the heat emanating from his skin. When I glanced up into his face, I noted his serious expression.
"Molly, I want you to know that what I said yesterday morning just came out all wrong. I didn't mean to imply anything bad or suggestive about it."
"Luke-"
"The truth is, while I'm not normally so…I guess the only way to put it is crass, I have to tell you that I am very attracted to you and sometimes I get a little tongue-tied. There, I said it."
I glanced at him in surprise. He got tongue-tied around me? Why? It should be the other way around. I don't think he was waiting for a reply, so I didn't try to come up with one. He stood, reached his hand down for me, and after just the slightest hesitation, I placed my hand in his and stood. Merely the contact of my hand with his sent a frisson of electricity racing through me. Of its own accord, my heartbeat accelerated. One glance at his lips had me remembering the sex we had together.
"I think you'll like what I have planned for today," he said, leading the way back to the Jeep.
I said nothing, not like I was trying to play hard to get or anything, but because his comments didn't really require a response and I was afraid that if I opened my mouth just now, I would say something stupid. I had a feeling he was trying to ease the embarrassment I felt over our sexual encounter and the way we had left things, so I appreciated his efforts. He was giving me time to reacclimatize, and I was grateful.
As he drove, I realized that we were heading for the Interstate 40 south out of Raleigh. I didn't know where we were going and he hadn't said anything yet, but it was a beautiful day and I was sure the drive would be just as nice. We passed through a number of rural communities and shared a laugh or two about some of the road names that we passed along the way. Integrity Drive. Virtuous Street. Jones Sausage Road.
It was pleasant, no pressure, and I didn't mind the silent spaces. After we been on the road for about an hour, I had an inkling where we were going. When we passed Newton Grove and finally drove through Saint Helena and Rocky Point, I turned to him.
"We’re going to Wilmington? To the beach?"
"Wilmington, no, but to the beach, yes," he said with a grin.
I was delighted. What a nice way to spend the day. I hadn't been to the beach in ages. "So if we’re not going to Wilmington, where are we going?"
"Ever hear of a place called Topsail Beach?"
I shook my head.
"Just before we get to Wilmington, we’ll take the state route north along the seaboard. Topsail Beach is just south of the Holly Shelter Game Land. Actually, it's not far from Surf City."
"Oh, I've heard of Surf City," I said. Actually, I was relatively familiar with the Wilmington area and the peninsula that extended down from it along Carolina Beach and then onto Bald Head Island. My parents had a beach house on Caswell Beach near the Oak Island Golf Club, just across the Cape Fear River from Bald Head Island. The area was gorgeous, threaded with intracoastal waterways, rivers, and streams and had great fishing.
"A friend
of mine told me about Topsail Beach," he continued. “He said it had some of the most gorgeous sunsets along the North Carolina coast."
"It sounds lovely," I said, meaning it.
"It's got the Jolly Roger Pier, which I thought we could walk along and explore after we finish our picnic lunch-"
"You packed a picnic?" I asked, surprised. He nodded and glanced at me with a smile.
"Not as fancy as the chef might have prepared, but I still know how to fry chicken and whip up a mean potato salad. Sound okay to you?"
Again, I was impressed. This was such a different aspect of him. The other evening, he had taken me out to one of the fanciest and most expensive restaurants in the city, and seemed to know a lot about the fine dining items on the menu. Now we were going for picnic and he himself had made fried chicken and potato salad. I shook my head. Would the real Luke Benning please stand up?
"Anyway, from what I gather, the locals don't call it a Topsail, but Tops’l, the way they said it way back when pirates used the island to hide their ships behind. The problem was the land is so flat that their topsails were still visible from the sea. At least, that's the rumor."
“I see you’ve done your homework," I commented, smiling. It sounded like we were going to have a good afternoon.
He nodded. "I did. I even found out that before the Second World War, you could only get to Topsail Island by taking a boat. It’s still one of the most popular picnic areas in the state. In fact, I read that Blackbeard’s famous, and lost, treasure is rumored to be somewhere in the forests and sand and sea grasses on the island." He laughed. "Maybe we'll get lucky and find it."
I laughed. "Maybe we will."
We arrived at the beach, and to my delight, he opened the back of the Jeep and pulled out a honest-to-goodness picnic basket and a red and white checked fuzzy blanket. Just the idea of a picnic on the beach was thrilling and invigorating to me. It was special. He had put some thought into it. Anyone could go to a fancy restaurant and spend a bunch of money on food and wine, but something like this? Something that he had thought about and figured I would enjoy? That was even better.
Draping the blanket over his arm and grasping the picnic basket handle with one hand; he reached his other hand for mine. Together we walked through the sand toward the beach. It wasn't too crowded and we wandered near a couple of small sand dunes topped with seagrass waving gently in the sea breeze. The sound of seagulls squawking overhead and the sight of a pelican flying close to the water seeking his next meal left me enthralled. We walked about one hundred yards in the sand and I was just about ready to take off my shoes and socks when Luke gets gestured and pointed.
"This look like a good spot to you?"
I nodded and he placed the picnic basket on the sand and then unfolded the blanket, shook it out, and I laid it out carefully on the ground almost in the shadow of one of the sand dunes. He made a grand gesture of bowing.
"Your seat, my lady," he grinned.
I laughed, suddenly feeling playful. I made a slight curtsy, nodded to him, and muttered a stuffy, "Thank you, sir," before sitting down cross-legged on the blanket.
In moments, he had removed the food, carefully wrapped in tinfoil or plastic containers –fried chicken, potato salad, grapes, and already peeled orange slices. He said he wasn't sure what I wanted to drink, so he had packed water, regular and diet soda, and a bottle of wine. I saw the wine, lifted an eyebrow and glanced at him, and he grinned.
"Does that mean we’re not having any wine?"
"You've got that right, Luke," I said. "No wine for me." I gestured to a water bottle. "I'll take that."
He laughed, handed me the water bottle, and then tucked the bottle of wine back into the picnic basket. I was pleased that he didn't seem bothered in the least. Maybe he had brought it along just as a joke, to clear the air. After all, I think it was the alcohol that had tipped me over the edge in the first place. I think he got that.
It turned out to be a wonderful time and I enjoyed the hours we spent and the food we ate even more than I had the other night when he had taken me to the fancy restaurant. This was more relaxing, more conducive to building a friendship. We did a lot of talking, watching the sea birds, laughing at the antics of children running up and down the beach, and trying to keep blowing sand out of our food.
I must say that I began to feel more relaxed than ever and pretty soon I wasn't even embarrassed any longer about the sex we had shared. He was a nice guy, somewhat self-deprecating at times, but he was displaying a great sense of humor. It seemed to me that he enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed his. As we commented on things that amused us, or things that we spotted, I got the impression that he liked being outdoors. That was good, because I did, too.
I gradually gained a better sense of the depth that encompassed Luke Benning. Out here, away from the mansion, he didn't seem so much a fish out of water. I got a sense of the happy-go-lucky and relaxed Luke Benning that he must've been before money had probably changed his life – not always for the better.
Sitting out there on the blanket, digging our toes into the sand and feeling the ocean breeze heavy with the scent of the sea as it brushed through my hair, I felt as if we were on a real, honest-to-goodness date. To my surprise, that thought brought me a great deal of pleasure.
By the time we finished eating, I was completely relaxed. I loved the smell of the ocean, but I didn't necessarily like to go in it. I watched while he pulled off his loafers and rolled up his khaki pants to his knees. He walked down to the water, just letting it lap around his ankles. He stood staring out at the ocean for several minutes while I, still sitting on the blanket, admired the view – both of him and the ocean beyond.
When he turned around and returned to the blanket, he wore a serious expression. After his initial apology when he had picked me up at the park, our conversation had been lighthearted. We'd gotten to know a little bit about each other, at least in regard to likes and dislikes, just the basics, really. Now I wondered what was going through his mind. He sat down on the blanket across from me, cross-legged, leaning back on his hands. I watched him watch me and was about to ask him if something was wrong when he spoke.
"Molly, there’s something else that I need to apologize about. You see, as I can imagine you've probably surmised this whole thing with my inheritance is new to me. In fact, everything feels very new to me. I'm sorry if I've been acting like a jerk. I certainly don't mean to. It's just that…"
He said nothing for a moment, and I really wanted him to know that I understood. "I kind of did get the feeling that you might be a little overwhelmed with it all. After all, not many people come into money like that."
He gave me a look. I quickly explained. "Luke, gossip travels around Raleigh faster than you can imagine." Of course, I didn't tell him that I had tried to Google him, but what I said was true enough. "I heard through the grapevine that you come into quite a bit of money, so it's no wonder why you're feeling a little overwhelmed. It’s perfectly understandable."
He frowned. "Was it that obvious?"
He seemed a little miffed, but I wasn't sure if he was miffed at me because I had mentioned it or because his behavior had been so transparent. Then again, maybe I had just overstepped my bounds again. Still, as far as I was concerned, the boundaries between us were terribly blurred. Should I speak to him as a maid to the employer or as a friend? Or a girlfriend? Was I a girlfriend? I had no idea. Just when I was about to tell him that I shouldn't have said anything, he spoke.
"Thank you, Molly, for being honest. That's one thing that I have noticed the most since I inherited this money. For some reason, people hesitate to tell you what they really think. They only tell you what they think you want to hear. I'm really tired of it, and I wish people could just speak their mind and not worry about what I think. So what? I'm rich? That doesn't have to change who I am does it?"
I shook my head. "Of course not, Luke. But you also have to understand that the majority of wealthy peop
le, not only around Raleigh, but anywhere, do feel superior."
"Do you feel that way about me?"
How to answer that? "Luke, I’m your maid-"
"I'd like you to be more than that," he said.
My heart skipped a beat. He did? Once again, he seemed to be able to read my thoughts.
"Of course, that depends on you." He shook his head, and then sighed and rolled his eyes. "There I go again, being pompous. I suppose I should have already asked you if you're married."
"No, I’m not" I replied. But what if I had been? Did he think that I would have accepted his invitations to swim, to dinner, to have sex with him, or even go to the beach today due to the fact that I was obligated to hold onto my position? I frowned.
"You have a boyfriend? A significant other?"
Again I shook my head. "No, Luke, I'm not involved with anyone at the moment. But I suppose I don't have to tell you that in many situations, wealthy employers do take advantage of their staff. In many cases, staff members feel compelled to accept…well, unsavory invitations in order to save their job."
He stared at me for several moments. "You don't feel that way about me, do you?" He sat up, brushing the sand from his hands. "Molly, I don't ever want you to feel obligated to accept or do anything with me that you don't want to, okay?"
That made me feel a little better. I nodded.
"I don't care if you're my maid and I'm your employer," he continued. "As far as I'm concerned, we’re on equal ground, okay?"
"But it doesn't work that way, Luke," I tried to explain. "You see-"
He shook his head. "Molly, I know that a lot of rich people are stuck-up snobs and they treat their staff horribly. I want you to know right now that I will not, and will never behave in such a manner, and I don't care how much money I have." He stared down at his hands for a moment, interlacing his fingers. "Molly, what I could really use right now is a friend…a girlfriend…you seem to have a good head on your shoulders, you're beautiful, and you're a desirable young woman. What's not to like about you? But I want you to know that if you don't want me to pursue my interest in you, you can tell me. It'll be okay. I'll be disappointed, of course, but believe me; your job will not be in jeopardy. We'll work it out somehow."