One Summer At The Lake: Maid for Montero / Still the One / Hot-Shot Doc Comes to Town

‘How inconsiderate of me to arrive unannounced.’ The sarcasm brought a flush to her cheeks. ‘I admit I’m curious—what part of your designated role as someone responsible for the smooth running of this establishment did you think you were providing when you decided to turn my home into a cheap sideshow?’

‘I thought…well, actually…I’ve already said it did get a bit out of hand, but it’s not as if you are ever here.’

‘So this is a case of while the cat’s away. You have a novel way of pleading your cause, Miss Grace.’

‘I need this job.’ It went against every instinct to beg but what choice did she have? Speaking her mind was a luxury she could no longer afford. ‘I really need this job. If you give me a chance to prove myself you won’t regret it.’

His lifted his magnificent shoulders in a shrug. ‘Like I said, you should have thought about that.’ He studied her white face and felt an unexpected flicker of something he refused to recognise as sympathy as he could almost taste her desperation. ‘Have you actually got any experience of being a housekeeper?’

She was too stressed to give anything but an honest answer. ‘No.’

‘I think it might be better if I do not enquire too far into the reason my assistant saw fit to offer you this job.’

‘He knew I needed it.’

Her reply drew a hard, incredulous laugh from him. Actually, he had some sympathy for his assistant. If her performance at interview had been half as good as the one she was delivering now, he would not have been surprised if the man had offered her more than a job.

He would be having words with Tom.

‘If when I take an inventory there are any valuables missing you will be hearing from me. Other than that I shall expect you to have vacated your flat by the morning.’

Zoe gave a wild little laugh. Short of falling to her knees, which might give him a kick but would obviously not change his mind, what was she meant to do? She had no skills, nothing to sell…The sheer hopelessness of her situation rushed in on her like a black choking cloud.

Falling back on the charity of friends was her only option, and that was only temporary.

She made one final attempt.

‘Please, Mr Montero.’

His mouth thinned in distaste. ‘Your tears are very touching, but wasted on me.’

She looked at him with tear-filled eyes. There was no longer anything to lose by telling him what she really thought. ‘You’re a monster!’

He shrugged. Being considered a monster was to his way of thinking infinitely preferable to being a sucker.

Zoe lifted her chin and, head high, walked towards the door, feeling the honeysuckle-scented breeze blowing through the open window stroke her cheek as she walked past him.

She was so blinded by the tears she fought to hold back that she almost collided with the vicar who was entering the room.

‘Oops!’ he said, placing both his hands on her shoulders to steady her. ‘Zoe, dear, we were looking for you.’ In the act of turning to include in this comment the woman who stood beside him with the child in a wheelchair he saw Isandro and paused, his good-natured face breaking into a beaming smile as he recognised him before surging forward.

‘Mr Montero, I can’t tell you how grateful we are…all of us.’

Isandro, who had met the man on one previous occasion, acknowledged the gushing gratitude with a tilt of his head. ‘The work is finished on the new roof?’

‘New roof? Oh, yes, that’s marvellous but I am talking about today. This totally splendid turnout. It warms the heart to see the entire community pulling together.’

He didn’t have a heart to warm, Zoe thought as she saw the hateful billionaire tip his dark head and hide his confusion behind an impassive mask of hauteur. Actually it wasn’t a mask; it was probably just him. Cold, cruel, vindictive, positively hateful!

‘Mr Montero, oh, thank you…Hannah, this is Mr Montero, darling. Come and say thank you.’

Startled to find himself being hugged by a tearful woman, Isandro stood rigid in the embrace, his arms stiff at his side. Oblivious to the recipient’s discomfort, Chloe sobbed into his broad chest and told him he was marvellous.

Zoe took a small degree of comfort from the discomfort etched on the Spaniard’s handsome face. She’d have preferred a job and a roof over her head but it was something.

When Hannah propelled her wheelchair over, her little face wreathed in smiles, and informed the startled billionaire that he could have a puppy from the next litter, his expression almost made her smile…though that might have been hysteria.

‘Bella is the smartest dog, even though she was the runt, and everyone wanted her last puppies, though this time we think the father might be…Well, that’s all right, you’ve plenty of room here and you look like a dog person.’

At a loss for once in his life, the dog person swallowed and wondered if the entire community here were off their heads.

Chloe still bubbling, her face alight, stopped her daughter’s chair before it hit the desk. ‘You two made this happen…’ She took Zoe’s hand and then that of the man she considered benefactor and pressed them palm to palm before sealing them between her own.

Standing there with a frozen smile on her face, Zoe had to fight the urge to tear her hand free. The only comfort she found in the situation was that he had to be hating this as much as she was.

‘We made the target, so you won’t have to shave your head!’

Zoe, forgetting for a moment her own situation, smiled happily, without noticing the expression on the tall Spaniard’s face as he watched her light up with pleasure.

‘Oh, Chloe, that’s marvellous! Is there enough for John to come with you?’

‘Not quite,’ the older woman conceded. ‘But he wouldn’t be able to take that much time off work anyway. And we’ll have so much to tell Daddy when we come home, won’t we, Hannah?’ She released the two hands she held and ducked down to her daughter, leaving Zoe standing there with her fingers curled around the long brown fingers of Isandro Montero.

While Chloe was kissing her daughter, and the vicar was taking off his glasses to study one of the paintings on the wall, Zoe took the opportunity to wrench her hand free and sling a poisonous look up at his face.

‘Oh, Zoe, you’ve worked so hard. How will we ever be able to thank you? And don’t you worry—we’ll be here bright and early to clear away.’ She stretched up to kiss Zoe’s cheek. ‘I wanted you to know first. Now I think we should go and tell everyone else…Vicar?’

‘Yes, indeed. Mr Montero, you have a very impressive art collection here…amazing…’ He wrung the younger man’s hand with enthusiasm before following Chloe from the room. Zoe, who had tacked on behind them, was stopped by the sound of her name.

‘Miss Grace, if I could have a moment…?’

Half inclined to carry on walking but knowing if she did the likelihood would be that the story would come out, Zoe paused and turned back, promising Chloe she would catch up. She knew it was inevitable that her friend would feel in part responsible for her sacking, but she saw no need to cast a cloud over this happy moment for the family who had not had a lot to be happy about recently.

She held herself rigid as he walked past her and closed the door.

‘So?’

She shrugged and matched his tone. ‘What?’

‘Would you like to tell me what that was all about?’

Now he wants to know. ‘I was trying to explain.’

Isandro’s jaw tightened. He was furious to have been put in the position of being treated like some sort of hero and not having a clue why, and his anger was aimed at the person he held responsible for it.

‘Well, explain now.’

‘The fund-raiser was for Hannah.’