CHAPTER NINE: CHLOE

“I’ve never stopped so many times for a bathroom break in my life.”

I glared over the top of my car at my boss. “Nobody made you stop with me, sir. And may I point out that two of those stops were because you kept buying coffee?”

“If you didn’t stop three times, I wouldn’t have needed coffee.” He closed his car door and stretched his neck from side to side. “Phew. That was a long trip. Coming on Friday was a great idea.”

My idea.

It was my great idea.

“Yes, I wonder what genius came up with it.” I opened my boot and pulled out my second suitcase, but before I could grab the biggest, heaviest one, Theodore appeared at my side and took hold of it. “Sir, I—”

“I’ve got it,” he said. “It looks heavy.”

It was heavy, but… “It’s my job to help you.”

He put my case on the floor, popped the handle up, and stared at me flatly. “You’re my assistant, not my slave.”

Oh.

He did know that, then.

“Besides, this is heavy. I wouldn’t feel right leaving it to you to cart around. I’ll take it up to your room for you.”

“But I—”

“Stop arguing,” he said sharply. “We’re not on the clock this weekend, so don’t make me pull rank.”

I pressed my lips together. “Yes, sir.”

“And don’t call me—”

“Master Ruxleigh!” The warm but stern voice cut through whatever he was saying, and I turned to see an older woman clad in an apron in the doorway. “Remember your manners when speaking to a young lady.”

Theodore froze. “Auntie Pat, I wasn’t—”

“I heard you.” She stomped out of the cottage, twisting a tea towel into the perfect shape for whipping someone with. “If you want to pull rank, let’s pull rank, child!”

“Auntie Pat, you’re looking younger than ever. That lipstick suits you perfectly,” he said quickly, backing up.

“Don’t you sweettalk me, you little pest.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “You’ve lost weight. Are you eating properly? Don’t tell me you still haven’t learnt to cook. Are you wasting your money on ready meals and take aways?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, he is,” I said.

The older woman turned to me. “You must be the poor assistant who’s been dragged halfway across the country to tend to this punk.”

“I might lose my job if I agree with such a colourful evaluation of my boss, ma’am.”

Theodore eyed me. “That’s rich coming from the woman who’s only here to get her resignation accepted.”

“Does that mean you’d fire me if I agree that you’re a punk?”

“I don’t want to accept the resignation in the first place. What makes you think I’d fire you?”

“Then yes, I’m the poor assistant who’s been dragged halfway across the country to tend to this punk, ma’am,” I said, holding my hand out to her. “I’m Chloe St. James. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ma’am? Nonsense.” She giggled, clasping my hand in hers instead of shaking it. “I’m Patricia Baker, but you can call me Auntie Pat. I’m one of the housekeepers up at the big house, and I’ll be popping in two or three times a week to help you out. I was also this brat’s nanny when he was a little lad.”

Ah.

That explained everything.

“Now, I won’t keep you long, as I’m sure you’re both tired from your drive up here.” She tucked her tea towel into the apron pocket so that it was hanging down. “I’ve stocked the kitchen with the basics to get you through tonight, and there’s a beef stew in the slow cooker that’ll be ready about five, so you don’t have to worry about cooking.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said. “I was wondering what we’d do tonight.”

“Well, I worked out for myself that you’re probably on kitchen duty,” she said wisely. “The last time I saw this one cook, he almost gave me food poisoning.”

Theodore coughed. “Auntie Pat, we’ve had a long drive. Can we save the humiliating stories for another day?”

“Aw, I was looking forward to spreading some office gossip in the group chat,” I lamented.

“There’s a group chat?”

“Yes, it’s between me and my babies.”

“Who the hell are your babies?”

“Daniel and Melody. Who else would be my babies in the office?”

“You refer to my secretaries as your babies? What other chaos goes on out there that I don’t know about?”

I sighed and pulled my third bag from the backseat. “They’re more my secretaries than yours if we’re being honest, sir. You sometimes go three whole days without even acknowledging their existence. It’s as if you forget I’m not the only one capable of assisting you.”

He grunted and closed the boot. “I see our cohabitation is getting off to a good start. Why aren’t I in the group chat?”

“Because nobody wanted you in there, sir.”

“I demand you delete that chat.”

“I will as soon as you accept my resignation.”

Auntie Pat burst out laughing, grabbing her tea towel, and throwing it over her shoulder. “And here I was worried that I’d have to come and save the poor little dear stuck working with this cold boy. It appears I underestimated you, Miss Chloe.”

“Just Chloe is fine.” I grinned. “And of course, Auntie Pat. I haven’t survived ten months as his executive assistant without learning a thing or two.”

“You make it sound as though I’m a toddler,” Theodore said. “I’m taking this inside. Which room did you get ready for her?”

“The back bedroom overlooking the pond,” Auntie Pat said. “You’re in the master, and the extension has been set up as your office space with two desks as you requested.”

“Very well. Thank you.”

“I’ll finish cleaning up the kitchen and leave you to it.” She smiled at us both. “I’ll be back on Tuesday. Chloe, you’ve never been here before, have you?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t,” I replied.

“Then let Theo bring in your bags, and I’ll show you around.”

“I couldn’t possib—”

“Go.” Theodore touched his hand to my back. “I’ll take these to your room.”

I met his gaze, hesitating for only a second before giving in to Auntie Pat’s warm grip on my hand. She tugged me along into the old, ivy-covered, red-brick house, and I stepped into a warm hallway.

The so-called cottage was deceptively spacious. The slate floor that started in the hallway stretched through into the kitchen and back porch, and hardwood floors covered the living room, dining room, and the extension that had been transformed into an office.

With two desks.

We’d be speaking about that later.

A large sunroom made up the final room of the ground floor, and Auntie Pat took me upstairs to the bedrooms. There were four bedrooms; three doubles, one single, and I was happy to see that the one that held my cases was on the opposite side of the hall to Theodore’s.

The further away from him I was, the better. The work-life split I so prided myself on was going to be impossible as it was, and it’d been a long time since I’d slept in the same house as a man who wasn’t a part of my family.

Not that I was afraid he was going to jump me in my sleep or anything, but still. I didn’t want my bedroom to be next to his.

My room was one of the two bedrooms that had an ensuite, and although mine was only a shower room, there was a gloriously large freestanding tub in the main bathroom that was practically screaming my name.

I was so going to lounge around in that with a glass of wine tonight.

And yes, I had packed a bottle or two in my suitcase. After all, I knew nothing about Buckley Heath or how far I’d have to venture to get myself a bottle.

Had I forgotten my hairdryer? Yes. Yes, I had.

Was I going to tell The Bastard it was because I’d been busy catering to his needs and not because I was prioritising my wine? Yes. I was absolutely going to blame him.

Ugh.

Even referring to him as The Bastard was becoming problematic these days.

He really wasn’t half as much of a bastard as he was two or three weeks ago. A part of me was beginning to feel guilty for referring to him such a way, but I was sure that wouldn’t last long.

After all, it was only Friday afternoon. There were two and half days until we were officially working. What were the chances he would be able to go that long without asking me to do something secretarial?

It was lower given that we were living together, but I didn’t have the most hope for a quiet weekend.

Auntie Pat left us with a bright smile, an enthusiastic wave, and a reminder of the magnetic notepad on the front of the fridge for us to communicate with her. She said it was for anything from a shopping list to a request for cleaning to be done. I’d smiled and nodded at the time, but I think she knew it wasn’t something I was comfortable with.

It was crazy. I was no stranger to the aristocracy—I’d worked for Black Ink Corporation since I was eighteen and gone full-time right out of university at twenty-one. From that point until I’d become Theodore’s assistant, my boss had been his grandfather.

The Duke of Ruxleigh.

I’d attended endless events, handled bottomless media requests, and learnt the etiquette of the upper class as if I were in training to become a duchess myself, but it’d never come to this. I’d never visited an aristocratic estate for longer than an evening, and I’d certainly never found myself in this situation where there was someone happy and willing to serve me.

It was like hotel housekeeping on steroids.

And I…

Well, I wasn’t exactly comfortable about relying on other people to do things for me. My parents’ car accident when I was thirteen had done a number on my ability to depend on other people, and even though Aunt Fizz, Uncle Jay, and Harvey had fully embraced me as a member of their family, I’d never truly been able to open up.

I’d done my own laundry since the day I moved in with them, and the moment I’d gotten a part-time job at fifteen, I’d tried to pay rent. They’d never taken a penny, but that hadn’t stopped me trying to pay back the debt my younger self had felt I owed them.

The feelings had persisted even after I’d graduated from university and started at Black Ink Corporation full-time with Harvey. Aunt Fizz and Uncle Jay had covered almost all our shared rent—that was what happened when your paternal aunt became your guardian and married a richy-rich man. Unfortunately for me, all that’d done to my young mind was indebt me towards them.

Either way, the last time anyone had bought me any groceries was the very day me and Harvey had moved into our two-bed flat after I’d graduated. After that, I’d taken control of our meals and groceries to make his life easier. He was older than me, and it was no big deal to look after him in that way.

Maybe that was why I hadn’t batted an eyelid when Theodore had told me he couldn’t cook.

I was far better at serving people than I was being served.

Would it be nice to have someone cook my meals and do my laundry? Sure. Was it realistically something I would be comfortable with? No, probably not.

Also, I really, really didn’t want other people washing my panties. Or bras. Nobody needed to see those greying monstrosities.

That said, once in a while was no bad thing, and I was extremely grateful for Auntie Pat’s foresight today. Although I did drive a lot, I wasn’t used to driving such long distances, and I was nothing short of exhausted right now.

I saved Auntie Pat’s number to my phone and stared at the kitchen. It had every amenity one could possibly dream of, but the only thing I cared about right now was that monstrous coffee machine in the corner by the fridge.

I had to figure out how to use it and fix the settings so Theodore wouldn’t lose his mind over crappy coffee every morning.

“You’re staring at that coffee machine like it’s a riddle you must crack.”

I jolted, twisting around to look at him. “Ah, I’m just wondering if there’s a manual in the drawers anywhere.”

“For the coffee machine?”

No.

For the oven.

Obviously, I wanted one for the coffee machine.

“You’re quite fussy with your morning coffee, sir,” I said, turning my attention back to the machine. “Rest assured that spending an hour figuring out how to use this machine today is for my benefit rather than yours.”

“You make it sound like I’m a demon without my morning caffeine.”

“It would never suggest such a thing, sir.”

He leant back against the kitchen counters with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Must you call me that when we aren’t working? It’s so… impersonal.”

I poked through the drawers in search of the manual and found the quick start guide. “Ah-ha! This should help.”

“Chloe, are you listening to me at all?”

“Not particularly,” I replied, flipping open the little booklet. “As you said, we aren’t working, so I didn’t think I had to.”

“Ha. I think I’m beginning to see why you said living with you is a nightmare.”

“Just you wait, sir.” I hit the power button on the coffee machine, then looked at him over my shoulder. “This time next week, you’ll be wishing you accepted my resignation the first time I offered it to you.”