Chapter 3

Leah

“So, there I was, cleaning and singing my ass off, with no clue I still had on the whiskers.”

Mak laughs so hard at my misfortune that she practically falls on Carson.

I stuff a breadstick in my mouth and talk around it. “I’m glad my pain amuses you.”

“More wine?” the waiter asks. Don’t think it’s escaped me that this dude’s staying close enough to hear my dramatic tale of house cleaning.

“Yes. Thanks.” I snag my glass and hand it over.

Carson leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m still stuck on the peanut butter part.”

“It was a grand , including the tip!” Mak tips her head up and stares at the ceiling. “I’d slather molasses on my ass and make choo-choo train noises for that much cash.”

Carson lifts his brow. “I’d pay double.”

“Sold!” Mak claps. “Show starts at midnight, Big Boy.”

Carson shakes his head and chuckles before bringing his attention back to me. “How did you get it all out from between your toes?”

I lean in with my shoulders slumped. “It took forever, man. That shit’s not easy to get off and it leaves an oily residue, so I had to wash my ankles and feet like ten times before I could go to work. It took an entire container of sugar scrub to get it all off.”

The server hands over my full glass. “Thanks.” I wait for him to leave and when he doesn’t, I flash a huge cheesy smile and make it awkward. He finally gets the hint and walks away, thank God. “So anyway, that’s why I didn’t get out of my full makeup. It just slipped my mind. Then there I am, at the condo for my first cleaning of the day, wondering why the doorman was acting so weird when he saw me.”

Mak’s eyes light up. “Ohhh, was it the fancy condo with the ten-person marble shower and disco lights?”

“No. It’s the condo with the guy who’s never there.” I drain my glass halfway. “I’m just jamming out, you know, minding my biz and doing my thing, and I go into the bathroom and scare the absolute shit out of myself when I see my reflection with those damn whiskers.”

Mak cackles, and I swear everyone in the restaurant turns to stare at us.

“This is the best story ever ,” she says.

“It gets worse.”

Her eyes widen. “How can it get worse?”

Part of me doesn’t want to tell them the whole story, but Mak’s my best friend and, honestly, Carson’s just as close to me now. If anyone gets to share my pain, it’s them. “The client was home, and I didn’t know it.”

“Oh noooo.” Mak covers her face. “Tell me he’s hot, single, and loves bunnies.”

“He’s hot and huge and…” The rest jams in my throat because it’s like talking about that guy has summoned him from the lost city of Atlantis. My entire body freezes as Mason Finch saunters across the restaurant and over to a table in the back corner.

“Leah,” Mak says cautiously. “What’s wrong?”

My mouth waters. I can’t pull my eyes from him. My jaw drops. When Carson and Mak both turn to see what’s enraptured me, I hiss, “Don’t look!”

Mak doesn’t listen. “Who are we not looking at?” she whisper-yells back.

Carson sighs. “I have a feeling Mr. Hot and Huge is here, isn’t he?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t think he sees us,” Mak whispers.

Carson places his hand on her head and turns her back around. “You’re being obvious.”

To prove Carson right, Mason takes a seat and looks right at me from clean across the restaurant.

This can’t be happening.

“Oh shit. He’s looking at you, isn’t he? Your cheeks are turning bright red.”

I want to die.

Mason’s gaze lingers for only a couple more seconds, then it drifts around the rest of the room and falls to the table setting. He’s got a drink in his hand already, and as he sits alone, he runs his finger along the rim of the glass.

Throughout dinner, I keep flicking my gaze over to him. I can’t help it. He’s just so pretty.

And looks so lonely.

“Would anyone care for dessert?” The server pulls out his pen and pad. “The tiramisu is incredible here. As are our gelatos.”

“I’m stuffed.” Carson rubs his belly. “You ladies want something?”

Mak wipes her mouth with a napkin. “No, I can’t put one more thing in my body.”

“Pity,” Carson mumbles playfully.

“Just the check, please.” I grab my purse to dig out my wallet.

“It’s on me, Leah.”

Of course, Carson would want to pay. He does whenever we go out. “Can’t I pay just this once?”

“Nope.” He takes the bill from the waiter before I have the chance.

My gaze drifts back to Mason one more time and my stomach drops when I see he’s no longer sitting there. Where did he go?

A few minutes later, Carson escorts Mak and I out of the restaurant. I never feel like a third wheel with them. They’re family to me. But it makes me almost wish I had someone to go home with every night.

I said almost .

I’m not really a relationship kind of girl.

Valet brings Carson’s car around first, and I give them both a hug goodbye. Standing at the curb, I smooth out my dress and dream about how great my bed’s going to feel when I crawl into it. It’s been a long day and I’m ready for it to be over.

This is definitely a double bath bomb, hottest-water-I-can-stand in the tub kind of night. I’ve earned it.

“No more whiskers?” asks a man behind me.

I spin around to find Mason with his hands in his pockets and a sexy smile plastered on his face. God, he’s gorgeous. Jet black hair, stormy grey eyes, clean shaven, sharp jawline. This man’s the epitome of main character energy in a romance novel. My brain immediately fills in the image of what’s under his three-piece suit.

The vision of his abs and dick this morning is going to live rent free in my head for life.

“Ummm. Ha. Ha. Nope, no whiskers.”

“That’s a shame. They looked adorable on you.”

I’m good at spinning things around to make me more, or less, the object of attention. “Nice suit. I see you left the towel at home. That’s a shame. It looked so good off you.”

Wait, that’s not what I meant to say! My brain, pussy, and mouth aren’t on the same page. There’s been a miscommunication. A glitch. I need to back away, or maintain professionalism, or at least play hard to get for crying out loud. “Come here often?”

Fuck. My. Life.

Why am I botching this so badly? And where the hell is my car, damnit? This valet guy sucks.

Mason stands next to me, almost brushing my arm, and a wicked little smile plays on his mouth. “Unfortunately, I don’t come anywhere often.”

“ Only when you’re alone in your room,” I mumble under my breath as I face away from him.

Yes, I heard him jerk off earlier. I couldn’t help myself! Besides, I swear he was being loud in there on purpose. It was almost like he wanted me to hear him.

Okay, fine, I might have peeked too. Not that he noticed. Mason was so caught up in his orgasm, he blew his load all over the place and let me tell you, it was molten lava hotness to watch. I’ve been wet from it all day.

So when he came back into the bathroom, I immediately felt like a criminal who got caught. It made me panic. Apologize. Get desperate. I’m just glad it all worked out, and he didn’t have a clue I spied on his self-love moment.

Except now I feel like I’ve violated his privacy and part of me feels terrible about it.

Not enough to out myself, though. Fuck that.

After Mason left the condo and I straightened his barely touched bedroom. There were ropes of white across the front of his dresser and faint wet spots on the carpet too that he must have missed while cleaning up. Or maybe he hadn’t cleaned any of it up and left it there on purpose for me to find. Thinking that was a likely possibility also had me hot and bothered all day.

He frowns. “Alone in my room?” Then it dawns on him.

My cheeks blaze because I know I shouldn’t have said that. I also shouldn’t have watched. And I definitely shouldn’t have relived it on repeat all day long.

“You saw me.” Mason’s not asking.

I can’t tell if he’s insulted, embarrassed, or worried, so I send the conversation in another direction again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me.”

One downside to being a camgirl is that I have to be extra cautious of who I let into my private life. I’ve never had a problem with a stalker online, but sometimes I think it’s just a matter of time before I do. I wear costumes and exaggerated makeup to keep myself safe. My identity is concealed, my name is fake, my hair is fake, my personality is fake.

What Mason saw this morning was the real Leah. The goofy, loves to clean, sings too loud, dances too crazy, big personality me . I’d have put on my best professional smile, spoken respectfully, and kept my head down and done my work if I’d known he was there when I came in this morning.

Jesus, how often do I fake who I am just to get through the day?

To make it worse, I’m flirting with him. A client. A man who, many might say, is way out of my league. And I can’t seem to stop.

There’s a chemistry here I want to explore.

Besides, he approached me first. That must mean he feels it, too.

“I could say the same about you.” Mason flashes another heart-stopping grin. “Maybe you followed me here, Leah.”

“I was at this restaurant first.”

“How do you know I wasn’t at the bar when you walked in?”

Fair point. “Were you?”

He shrugs. “Maybe we were at the same place at the same time.”

Possibly. Okay, probably. “You booked me again for next week. Why?”

Earlier today, I got a notification saying Mason scheduled another cleaning. My calendar is packed every day, and he’s booked me for this coming Saturday. I still need to accept the job or decline it, and if I do the latter, it’ll bump him to another maid on the roster. I haven’t decided what choice to make yet.

“How long have you worked for the cleaning company?”

“Five years.” Why would he care? “You were actually one of my first clients.”

He nods and stares at me like he’s calculating something. It makes me twitchy. Then his gaze drifts down my body and back up. “What else do you do, Leah?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re carrying a five-thousand-dollar purse from Dolce and Gabbana.”

“So?”

“You aren’t making that much on a maid’s salary.”

“First off, fuck you for assuming I don’t make bank cleaning.” He, for one, left me a gigantic tip on the kitchen counter this morning. Probably so I don’t tell everyone about his huge dick. “And second—”

“They pay you thirty an hour.”

He looked it up? Nosey weirdo. And now I feel defensive. “I got it on sale.”

Mason doesn’t relent. “What else do you do, Leah?”

“It’s not your business.”

How the fuck did we just downward spiral so fast? Time to turn the tables. “What do you do, Mason Finch?”

He has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

What the hell does that mean? “I don’t.” And his arrogance and nosiness are getting on my nerves.

The valet finally shows up with my car and hands me the keys. “Have a good evening, Miss.”

“Thanks.” I need to get out of here, ASAP.

“Hold up.” Mason rushes forward and takes my hand. “We’re not done talking yet.”

“Yes, we are.” Snagging my hand away, I look him up and down. “Have a nice night.” I can’t get into my car fast enough.

“Leah, please wait!”

Against my better judgment, I halt with my head down and hand on the door handle.

His footsteps get louder the closer he gets. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Prying.”

Good. He should be. “What’s it matter what I do?”

“It doesn’t.” Mason’s expression softens. “I just want to know everything about you and I’m too direct for my own good sometimes.”

And too observant . “How the hell did you know how much my purse cost?”

“Because I bought my sister the same one in red for Christmas two years ago.”

Oh . I’m only slightly less annoyed now. “Well, have a good night, Mr. Finch.”

“Wait.” He steps closer. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

“I just ate.”

“What about tomorrow night?”

I’m flattered and extremely tempted to take him up on his offer. “I’m busy.”

“Breakfast?”

His persistence makes me laugh.

“Coffee?” He sounds hopeful, even as I get in my car. “Cocktails? A movie?” He talks faster. “Craft fair? Deep sea diving? Wait, do you like baseball?”

A laugh bubbles out of me. He’s adorable. “See you around, Mason.” I drive off with that luscious man in my rearview mirror.

I can’t believe he looked me up like that on the cleaning site.

“ I just want to know everything about you,” he’d said.

Well, two can play this game.