by A. C. Arthur
Her phone rang almost immediately afterward.
It was the client, and she answered it on the first ring. “Yes, Mr. Ainsworth?”
“Bastien,” he corrected smoothly.
There was a smokiness to his voice that made Mikelina’s toes curl. He didn’t sound how she had expected him to. His emails sometimes had been curt and borderline rude. She couldn’t wait to see what he really looked like when she met him to give him the tour of the house.
Over the past several weeks, she’d gone back and forth picturing him as a trust fund, Ivy League slacker with nothing better to do than make her job difficult, or as the son of a rock star with too much money and not enough people telling him no. She hadn’t so much as found a picture of him on social media or gotten an idea on what he was really like, but she knew his type. She had gone to high school and college with men like him.
“I have a few more requests,” he went on.
“Of course,” she said brightly, even though her fingers tightened on her purse strap. He was arriving tomorrow morning and she could only hope he didn’t ask for something ridiculous like a bowl full of M&M’s—but only the green ones.
“I’d like to have enough beach towels to last us the week.”
“You’ll have two per person and the maids will launder them daily.” And if you had read the paperwork you were sent a month ago, you’d already know that. “Is that sufficient?”
“Make it three per person. What about bathing suits?” he barked.
“What about them?” she snapped, before she could stop herself. Mikelina recovered quickly, though. “Do you need me to have an assortment available?” She looked at her watch. She could just get to her friend Abbie’s surf shop before it closed. It would be a good score for her. Five Diamond Resorts would buy them and add the cost to Bastien Ainsworth’s bill—with a significant markup, of course.
“Yes. Ten male board shorts, size large.”
“Not a problem. I’ll have a selection put in each bedroom as well as the extra towels. Any female sizes?” Abbie had gorgeous hand-painted batik bikinis.
“No,” he said curtly.
Right. Bachelor party. Who needed bikinis?
“Very well,” Mikelina said smoothly. “Was there anything else?”
“Not at the moment.”
Oh goody.
“Please don’t hesitate to call me if something comes up,” she added. “Otherwise, I’ll meet you at the property tomorrow around eleven.”
“Make it ten.”
She rolled her eyes. The contract specified eleven. But whatever. “I’ll see you then.” After hanging up with him, she tossed her phone into her gigantic shoulder bag and headed over to South Beach Surf. It was a quick walk down the quiet, residential area streets.
Mikelina kept her head up high as people looked the other way or glared at her as she passed. She had nothing to do with her father’s schemes. She had been in New York, but Tanner Presley had hurt a lot of people in this neighborhood. Of course, he had hurt his family most of all.
Her phone rang again. Now what?
“Yes, Mr. Ainsworth?” She forced sweetness and light into her tone.
“I would like to review the schedule for the next two weeks with you.”
“Of course,” she said through her teeth. She had it memorized. “I have double-checked all your reservations and I emailed you the confirmation numbers yesterday. You’re all set.”
“Have lunch prepared for us on Friday.”
Thanks for the short notice.
“What would you like?”
“Something light and healthy. We’re going to want something substantial, but nothing heavy.”
That was clear as mud. But she knew they were going parasailing in the late afternoon, so she’d probably have the catering company Selena recommended make them an assortment of deli salads. The shrimp and quinoa one was divine. Mikelina’s stomach growled just thinking about it.
“I’ll take care of it,” she said.
“I was also considering changing Sunday’s plans. Can we switch the Segway tour to Monday? I think Sunday we should just hang around the house.”
“That’s a good idea.” He had really overscheduled the bachelor party.
“I appreciate all your help. I couldn’t have set this up by myself. You have made this very easy and I’ll make sure Kirk knows how much you’ve put into this.”
Mikelina blinked at the warmth in his voice. “I’m delighted to help.” That was a stretch, but it was nice of him to acknowledge that she was on top of things. Maybe he wouldn’t be such an entitled snot in person.
“And two of the groomsmen are lactose intolerant, so if you could replace half of the ice cream with nondairy, that should be sufficient.”
And then he had to go and ruin it. She suppressed a sigh. “I’ll make sure it’s done.” Of course, there had been a section in the paperwork on dietary restrictions and that hadn’t been marked off. But at least he was telling her now. She didn’t want anyone sick on her watch.
“See you tomorrow, Mikelina.”
She got a shiver up her spine at the way he said her name. It tickled at her ear and she shook her head to get rid of the feeling. He had a sexy voice. Too bad he was a pain-in-the-ass perfectionist.
Copyright © 2020 by Jamie K. Schmidt
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ISBN-13: 9781488062216
At Your Service
Copyright © 2020 by Artist C. Arthur
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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