Page 6 of Maid For Each Other

This man was definitely going to fire me.

And I needed that job so badly.

There were a lot of jobs out there, but not many as flexible as the one I had with Masterkleen.

I inhaled through my nose, gritted my teeth, and swallowed my pride, because what other choice did I have? “I know I have no right to ask this, but please don’t tell Masterkleen. I’m begging. I really need this job and literally can’t afford to get fired. Please don’t tell my boss.”

His dark eyebrows knitted together, and he looked insulted by my request.

“Oh, I will definitely be telling your boss,” he said without even blinking. “Because you trespassed in my home.”

“Or,” I countered, grabbing his right arm as I desperately tried to get him to understand, “I fell asleep at my job. That’s not a crime, right?”

“I’m not interested in your justifications,” he said, looking down at my hand so aggressively that I dropped it. “I just came here to see who the hell had broken into my place and had breakfast with my parents. Now I know.”

“Please.” My voice cracked and I hated it. “Can’t you just forget it ever happened? Like, just pretend I never stayed there.”

“I wish I could,” he said, shaking his head. “But you have no idea what you’ve done.”

“Come on.” God, why was he such a hard-ass? “Who did it really hurt, though?”

“Me!” He barked out a mirthless laugh and said, “Now my parents and my colleagues all thinkAbbyis coming to the most important event of my life tonight becauseAbitold them she was.”

“Why can’t you just tell them Abi’s not going?” I paused, frowning. “And why did they act like they knew me in the first place?”

“Because they think I have a girlfriend named Abby, for Christ’s sake,” he snapped, his voice full of frustration. “What are the odds my maid would have the same damn name?”

“So…” I was missing something, something that had nothing to do with my sleepover at his penthouse. “You don’t actually have a girlfriend named Abby?”

“I do not,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes on the alleyjust beyond my shoulder, his thoughts no longer on me but on his apparently stressful situation.

“What did you do,” I said, watching him attempt to mentally formulate a plan, “make her up or something?”

His intense gaze snapped back to me and I regretted the question immediately. His voice was dangerously quiet when he asked, “Have you ever been arrested, Abi Mariano?”

“Of course not!” My cheeks were hot even though I deserved the inquiry.

“So if I ran a background check, you would—”

“Call the authorities on you for stalking? Yes,” I said in a near yell, frustrated he was treating me like a criminal after I’d explained the situation. Not everyone had piles of money for hotel stays or multiple residences, damn it, and it stung that my tiny questionable decision made him behave as if I’d stolen the family jewels.

But then he smiled at me.

He smiled, andwhoa—it was something.

That grin packed a punch, sexy and dirty from the slide of his lips to the squint of his very green eyes. Declan’s voice was silky smooth when he stepped closer, so he was towering over me. “But you can’t do that because you’ve been trespassing, remember?”

“Stop playing with me.” I swallowed hard and crossed my arms. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m still working it out,” he replied as his eyes went down to my chest. “What does that mean?”

“What?”

His eyebrows went down and he gestured to my shirt with his chin. “Your shirt. I don’t get it.”

Of course you don’t.The custom T-shirt shop behind myapartment had a clearance rack where all their mistakes were 80 percent off, so my wardrobe was full of tops that were off-center, riddled with misspellings, or downright stupid.

I didn’t care when I could get a shirt for two bucks, but I’m sure that wouldn’t make sense to someone like him. I raised my chin and said, “What exactly don’t you get?”

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