Barbara Wallace – Beauty & Her Billionaire Boss (страница 2)

* * *

Frederic winced as he peeled the wet shirt from his body. Not because the liquid stung his skin, although it did, but because he was appalled at his behavior. Yelling at his housekeeper that way. Like a child throwing a tantrum. Didn’t he swear he would never be that way? Become one of those angry invalids who took their bad moods out on others? Yet the first time he spills a drink, he lashes out. Embarrassment was no excuse.

What did he expect, falling asleep in the salon like that? It was the last glass of Bordeaux. Knowing the way alcohol went to his head and made him overly pensive, he never should have indulged. Last night found him sitting for hours, watching the tower’s twinkling lights, his mind a sea of morose thoughts.

The dampness from his shirt found its way to his palms. Resisting the urge to hurl the garment across the room, he draped it on top of the duvet for Piper to find later. He stripped off the rest of his tuxedo as well, making sure he returned the suit and his shoes to their assigned places in the closet. Oh, but for those days when undressing meant toeing off your shoes wherever you stood and tossing your clothes in a heap.

Obviously, last night’s moroseness hadn’t subsided. Why else would he be bemoaning a past that he couldn’t get back? After all, he’d come to terms with his failing eyesight long before it started to steal his peripheral vision. From the moment the doctors first told him his retina was degenerating, in fact. He knew full well that one day the tunnel through which he viewed the world would close completely, leaving him blind. He’d accepted his fate and framed his life in anticipation. And when the time came, he would shoulder the burden alone, the way a person should. He wouldn’t drag others down with him. A promise that, until this morning, he’d done a very good job of keeping.

He owed his housekeeper a very large apology.

When the employment agency first recommended the American culinary student, he thought the idea ridiculous. A temporary resident? She’d be too distracted by studies and sightseeing. But as it turned out, Piper was nothing short of exemplary. Today aside, she did her job quietly and unobtrusively. In fact, the two of them could go days without crossing paths. Precisely the kind of help Frederic preferred.

Today’s mistake with the coffee was as much his fault as hers. She no doubt set down the cup to wake him, not expecting him to stand up so quickly.

He would definitely apologize.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time right now. Leaning in close, he read the time on his nightstand clock. With luck, he could shower and make his first class in plenty of time. Whether or not his morning began poorly didn’t matter to his superiors at the university. They expected him to deliver his lectures on time, regardless. This evening, then. Before the symphony. He would find Piper and explain that he overreacted. Then they would both forget this morning ever happened.

* * *

Staining the carpet turned out to be the high point of the day.

First, cleaning the rug took longer than planned. In addition to the major stain, there were a dozen or so tiny spots that needed blotting. It took her forever to find them all, so by the time Piper finished, she was running late. Chef Despelteau was less than thrilled to see her slip through the door five minutes into his lecture.

Now this.

“Uninspired,” Chef Despelteau pronounced. “Your spices, they do not dance, they plod. I expect my students to produce magic in the kitchen, not...” He dropped his fork back onto the plate with an expression that was usually reserved for walking around landfills. Shaking his head, he moved on, his silence letting everyone know Piper wasn’t worth more of his time.

“...so pathetic. Why is she even here?”

The whispered comment drifted from the stovetop across the aisle. Apparently whoever said it didn’t care if anyone heard him. Why should he, when the whole class was thinking the same thing?

Keeping her shoulders square, Piper stared straight ahead and pretended she didn’t hear a thing. That was the number one rule. Never let them think they were getting to you. Never lose control. Never let them see you cry. Crying only gave the bullies power. Let them whisper behind her back all they wanted; she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing so much as a twitch.

She succeeded, too. All through Chef Despelteau’s final remarks, through the Métro ride home, and even into the house. She managed to last until she saw the living room carpet and the faint brown ring reminding her she’d failed that task, too. Letting out the coarsest obscenity she knew, she broke down.

Screw cooking school. Tossing her bag in the chair, she stomped into the kitchen. Screw monsieur, too. Him and his impossible-to-clean carpeting. Screw Paris with its beautiful buildings and sidewalk cafés and shops she couldn’t afford. She hated them all.

Carbs. She needed carbs. Yanking open the refrigerator door, she grabbed a wedge of cheddar cheese and an onion. Creamy, gooey macaroni and cheese, that’s what this pity party needed. How’s that for peasant food, Chef Despelteau?

Now if she would only stop crying. Sniffing back a fresh batch of tears, she grabbed the cheese grater and took to demolishing the cheddar to a shredded pulp.

“There you—”

“What now?” she snarled. What else could she add to her list of mistakes today?

Frederic blinked in shock. Great. Yelling at her boss. That’s what she could add. Because, of course.

Horrified, she turned back to the cheese. “I mean, about this mor—morn...” The tears were back. She scrunched her face trying to stop them.

A paper towel floated in front of her face.

“Is everything all right?”

Why’d he have to sound nice, too? It made things worse. “Fine.” Taking the paper towel, she wiped her cheeks and blew her nose.

“You don’t look fine.”

“The cheese is making my eyes water.”

“I see. It must be quite pungent.”

Piper ignored the comment, choosing to wipe her nose again instead. “Did you need something, monsieur?”

A tentative smile worked its way across his features. Afraid to set her off again, probably. “I wanted to apologize for losing my temper this morning. The coffee, it was not your fault.”

No, it wasn’t, she wanted to say. She didn’t. Since he apologized, the least she could do was be gracious in return. “I should have known better than to put a cup where you couldn’t see it.”

“And I should know better than to behave like a brat,” he countered, one-upping her. “It’s rude to blame others for my shortcomings.”

Piper wasn’t sure she’d call partial blindness a shortcoming, but she accepted the apology anyway. If she didn’t, the two of them might spend all night exchanging regrets. “Thank you,” she said with a sniff. The man would never know that his “I’m sorry” had just beat out the coffee stain as the day’s bright spot.

“Do you need another paper towel? I would offer you something nicer, but I’m not a handkerchief person. A napkin perhaps?”

That made her smile, picturing him retrieving a napkin from the linen closet. “Thanks, but I’m okay now.” There remained a slight pressure behind her eyes trying to push out tears, but she could keep that under control. A quick splash of water and she’d be fine.

“Are—” She took one last swipe at her nose. “Are you in for the evening?” As if she didn’t already know the answer. Frederic was seldom “in.” His evenings were one big social engagement. How one person could squeeze so much activity into a week, she didn’t know.

Just as she expected, Frederic shook his head. “I have tickets for the symphony. I came home to change my shirt is all.”

Meaning he would be home late, as usual. “I’ll make sure to leave the foyer light on before I turn in.”

“Thank you.” He turned to leave only to pause. “Why don’t you take the evening off as well? Some time with friends might make you feel better.”

Sure it would, if she had friends to go out with. “I...” Thankfully, the beep of an incoming message on her cell phone saved her from having to make up some embarrassing lie.

“Sounds like your friends have the same idea,” Frederic said.

She reached into her pocket, smiling when she read the message on her screen. “It’s my sister,” she told him. Why she felt she needed to tell him that, she didn’t know.

“You have a sister.”

A question as much as a statement. Surely he knew. Then again, he might not. This was the longest conversation they’d ever had.

“She works as a housekeeper back in Boston.”

“Ah, so cleaning is a family business.”

“More like a family situation we both fell into.” From his expression, she could tell he didn’t get the joke. No surprise. It wasn’t very clear, or funny. “She wants to video chat.”

“Sounds like you’ve got something to look forward to.”

“Yeah.” Piper smiled. Talking to Patience would definitely make her feel better.

“I’m glad.” And for the first time she could remember, he gave her a warm, genuine smile. “I’ll leave you alone so you can talk. Good night.”

“Good night.” To her horror, she almost said “Don’t go” instead. Her loneliness was out of control if a smile could make her slip up like that.