Page 3 of Controlling Natasha

“Got it.Done.”He grins.“She likes pink.Her favorite sweater is a soft pink, and she has a pink phone case and a pink backpack.”

I down the rest of my drink and stand.“That’s enough.Your part is done.Give her my address and tell her to come after classes tomorrow.”

Camden rises, too.“You won’t regret it.”

I shake my head, turn from him, and make my way toward the elevator.I can’t believe I’ve just agreed to move some girl/woman into my home for five months.I’ve never even met her.I’m out of my mind.

I’m also intrigued, and though I would never admit it to Camden, kind of excited by the idea.I’m not stupid.I know the chances of the two of us having any sort of connection are absurdly unlikely, but I could use the human interaction.He’s right about that.It’s a noble cause, too.A bright, young student who needs a place to stay?I can do that.I have the space.I know Camden wouldn’t send her to me if he had any doubts about her character.I suspect he’s known her for the better part of four years.

Pink, huh.I have a lot to do before tomorrow afternoon.

Chapter1

Natasha

I groan as I pull my car into the circular drive at the front of what is, essentially, a mansion.I’m lucky I made it here since my stupid phone died about a half a mile away.I glance at the address on the handwritten note Professor Arnalt handed me.It matches.

Professor Arnalt has been so kind to me for the past few years as I’ve worked hard to finish my degree.Not just with my classes but my life.By now, he knows my entire life story because he’s gradually pulled it out of me over the years.

The man has helped me secure housing, find jobs, and even arranged for mechanics to give me a discount when my car has needed a service.The damn thing is making a noise yet again.I don’t know a thing about cars.It won’t do me any good to open the hood.Ha.What a joke.Is there smoke coming out of the front again?Shit.

I turn off the engine and take a deep breath.I’ve been on my own for four years.I think I’ve done pretty well for myself.But this might very well be the wildest thing I’ve had fall into my lap.

Professor Arnalt assures me that Jameson Hoffmann is his oldest and dearest friend.Apparently, the man has plenty of space, and it will be no trouble for him to let me stay here in his home for the next several months while I finish my degree.

I was raised in foster care with only meager provisions.I’ve managed to keep my head above water since then, but just barely.Until last week when the apartment building where I was renting a studio was condemned.I’m not surprised.It was truly horrifying, but it was a roof over my head, a mattress under me, and running water.Sometimes, the heat actually worked.

I’ve never been homeless and living out of my car before, and apparently, that’s about to change.But holy cow.This is not a house.It’s a mansion.When I crane my neck to look through the windshield, I decide it’s three stories.The next “home” on this street is far enough away that I can barely see it.

This is an old neighborhood.Pristine lawns.Brick and stone.Trees that go back a century and provide extra privacy between the properties.I’m downright embarrassed about my car.I panicked a bit when I pulled up to the gated entrance to the community and had to stop to speak to a man in a suit.

As it turned out, he was expecting me and was extremely kind.He made no comment about the state of my car, introduced himself as Edward, and gave me a placard to set on my dash.He also said I wouldn’t need it once everyone recognized me coming and going.

I’m going to live here?This is madness.

I glance at my back seat.All my possessions are in my car, but I’m not going to take them inside with me yet.I better just take my purse for now until I make sure this is really going to happen.

Trembling, I snag my purse, open my door, and step out.My car is an eyesore on this driveway.I’m sure Mr.Hoffman will want me to put it somewhere else, but until he instructs me, I’m kind of stuck.

I make my way up the six steps that lead to the double front doors and stand there, wondering whether I should knock or ring the bell.I look around and find a very modern camera just above me, but I don’t see a doorbell.

When the door suddenly opens, I nearly jump out of my skin.Slapping a hand over my heart, I meet the gaze of a man.He’s older than Professor Arnalt, which surprises me.I clear my throat.“Mr.Hoffman?”I need to make sure I’m at the right mansion.

The man smiles broadly, causing dimples to appear on both sides of his face, making him look soft and kind.“No, young lady, I’m Albert.You must be Natasha.”He steps back.“Please come in.”

When he looks past me toward my car, I cringe, fearing he’s going to wince.

He doesn’t, though.“I assume you have bags in your car that need to be brought in?I’ll get them for you after I take you to Jameson.He’s in the library.”

I bite my bottom lip and release it.“Oh, uh, maybe we should wait a bit.I can bring my things in later.You don’t have to help me.”

Albert’s smile comes back as I step inside so he can shut the door—thoughdooris an understatement for what is more like a huge, thick castle entrance.“It’s my job, sweet girl.”He leans in closer and whispers conspiratorially, “Don’t make me look bored.I have to keep busy so I don’t get fired.”

I gasp, eyes wide.

Albert chuckles.“Oh dear.I was kidding.Don’t mind me.You’ll get used to my warped humor.”

I stare at him and finally smile.I like him.He’s putting me at ease.Is he a butler?I’ve never known a butler before or anyone who had one.

---