Page 1 of The Housekeeper's Billionaire Boss
Prologue
Rushing from one machine to the other, Molly Hines didn’t possess enough arms to tackle a coffee shop short-staffed on a Monday. Only two weeks on the job, and she didn’t know enough to handle a rush. She certainly didn’t have all of the drinks memorized yet. Then the special orders on top of that? Her brain was mush by the time she went home each day.
A large man reached the counter, and she took his order, but not before seeing the cute guy who’d been coming in since she’d started working there. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and her face flushed. Josiah, the only thing she knew about him so far. Well, other than he always dressed professionally with a nice button-up and slacks under a long tweed coat. Dapper. That was the best word for him.
After she took the huge guy’s order, Josiah stepped up to the counter. Oh, he was gorgeous with his thick dark hair and a curl in the middle of his forehead, like Clark Kent, that he continually pushed back.
“Hey,” she said and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
Of course, she didn’t need to be acting like that. She had a boyfriend, and she wasn’t that kind of girl. They hadn’t been dating super long, but they were serious enough to be talking about long-term stuff. Clearly, her head and her heart needed a meeting of the minds to get on the same page about her current relationship. The cute guy was totally out of her league anyway.
“What would you like today?” she said and tried to not seem like a complete flake. She knew the answer, but she didn’t want him to think she was a stalker or something. Who memorizes a complete stranger’s drink choices?
“Uh, could I get a caramel macchiato?”
“Sure,” she replied.
She finished ringing him up and slapped the printed ticket on a cup. He drifted over to the corner as the next customer began rattling off a drink order.
Just as the next ticket printed, her manager barged over, holding a cup with steam pouring from it. “Another drink made incorrectly. This is the third one today.” He did nothing to keep his voice down, and now everyone was looking at her.
“Uh,” she stammered. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.”
“Not hard enough. Look, it’s coffee, sweetheart, not rocket science. You take the order, fix the drink using the directions, and that’s it.” His voice only seemed to get louder. “What’s so difficult about that?”
“I—”
“You’re fired. Leave the apron on your way out.”
Molly’s lip trembled and tears threatened. No way was she letting this jerk see her cry. She quickly untied the apron and threw it at him, grabbed her purse sitting on a shelf below the register, and stomped out.
She got half a block before reaching a nearby restaurant that had outdoor seating and dropped into a wire-backed chair. Then the tears flowed. Stupid, stupid crying. She hated it.
“Uh, Molly?”
She jerked her head up at the sound of her name. Josiah had followed her? “Yeah,” she said, realizing she probably looked like a drowned cat. She furiously wiped at her eyes. “How do you know my name?”
He tapped his chest as he smiled. “Name tag.”
Great. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she grimaced. “Right.”
“Mind if I sit?” he asked.
Shaking her head, she waved at the chair next to hers. “No.” She sniffed and realized he didn’t have a drink in his hand. “You didn’t even get your macchiato?”
He shook his head, pushing that curl back. “No, and I won’t be going back either. That guy was a jerk. You don’t treat people like that.”
“I never should have taken the job. He was a jerk from the beginning.” Tears pooled in her eyes again. He’d made her feel stupid.
“Uh, I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I’ve been looking for a housekeeper. Do you have experience with that?”
With the number of hours Molly’s mom worked after her parent’s divorce? “Uh, yeah. I did most of the cleaning when I was a kid.”
He gave her another fantastic smile. “Great. Uh, I don’t have a ton of time. I’m supposed to be meeting a client in twenty minutes.” He pulled a card out from his pocket. “Here, that’s my number. If you can start tomorrow, that would be great.”
She took the card and studied it. “You haven’t brutally murdered anyone, have you?”
“Maybe it’s just me, but I tend to follow the Judeo-Christian ethic of ‘Thou shall not kill.’”
