AVA
Gray eyes.
Bright gray eyes.
That was the first thing Ava noted, the minute she turned and stared back at the man who stood at the doorway.
She hadn't heard him come in, so she had gasped when she found him standing there gazing at her.
How long had he been standing there for?
Blinking hard against the masculine figure before her, she felt her heartbeat speed up and drum sporadically.
He wasn't anything like the gigantic portrait of himself that stood at the corner of the sitting room.
Gray hair. Gray beards. Fine lines. He wasn't anything like the kind of men Ava was used to seeing. For a man his age, he sure looked really breathtaking.
Heck! She hadn't seen a man like that. His streaking gray hair made him all the more formidable. Raising a hand to her throat, she swallowed and prayed he didn't hear and see how nervous she was.
Looking down sharply at herself, she was grateful for the apron that covered her ugly outfit. It was disturbing that she was suddenly aware of her looks.
She worried that her red hair might look so frizzy and it spiralled her into a bothersome thought.
What's wrong with me?
An introduction wasn't necessary. Even the dumbest person could tell that he was Mr. McCaul, her employer.
Letting her eyes flicker allover his face, she swallowed again. She needed to say something. Anything.
Ava pressed her lips tightly together, before flashing a smile at him.
"I'm Ava Fisher, your housekeeper." She was surprised how her voice had come out so clear but a little husky.
She noticed how his eyes settled on her hair, then over her face and further down her length.
The corner of his lips turned up in a little smile, then he held her gaze.
Why wasn't he saying anything?
Why was he still standing there?
No.
Ava was awed to realize that she had held his gaze. It made her wonder where the naive Ava went to.
Had probably flown out the window. The new Ava had resurrected.
She should be fidgeting, and cowering, and doing anything to avoid his hot gaze.
As if he realized he had been standing there for too long that it was beginning to look awkward, he took three long strides towards her.
The large kitchen suddenly felt so small and suffocating when he stood at the centre of the room.
"So, you're Ava..."
That voice. Her stomach rumbled quietly that she thought she heard thunder claps even when it wasn't raining.
Nodding, the smile still in her eyes. He hadn't said anything else but it made her think he wanted her to respond to it.
Thinking quickly of what to say, but she came up with nothing.
And then...
"Yes. From Salta..." Her words hung in the air just like his. She shifted her weight to her right leg.
Richard's face broke into a really wide smile. He was obviously amused with something.
"So, Ava from Salta..." His eyes danced as he said the words. "Welcome to my humble home."
His eyes never left her face and it didn't make Ava want to run and hide. It held her in place and she subconsciously, wanted to stay and look at the most beautiful thing her eyes had ever seen.
Humble home? This was anything but humble.
Before she could catch herself, she chuckled. It was loud enough for his sharp ears.
"This is anything but humble. Sir," Ava added.
The smile spread, that he almost laughed. Squinting at her, "what would you call it?" His voice was husky and almost in whispers.
It felt like his voice was drawing her out. Ava had never felt like that and it made the gears in her head to spin without control.
Something's wrong.
"Extravagant?" She just couldn't stop. There was just an invisible force at play that made her incapable of holding back.
He laughed. A chuckle, and his eyes settled on her hair before they returned and looked squarely at her face.
It made Ava feel like he was searching her out. Reading her.
She was guilty because she was doing the same. But, why would he want to read her?
Mind tricks, Ava. Mind tricks.
"Not if I can afford it times and over." The huskiness was still in his voice.
Right! Stupid! She wanted to kick herself for asking such a dumb question. If he could pay such a sum for just housekeeping, he was really wealthy.
Ava sucked her lower lip between her teeth and looked away. She shouldn't be talking to this man. He was her employer for God's sake.
He started retreating but stopped and looked past her to the counter. Ava was confused about what to make for dinner. There weren't any meal guide by the previous cook, so she was slamming the cabinet doors and taking out bowls when he came in.
"I'll be downstairs for dinner_" he glanced down briefly at his wristwatch, before returning his eyes to Ava's, "in the next two hours."
She could bet that leather watch cost more than everything she'd ever bought throughout her life.
Releasing her lower lip, "do you want anything in particular for dinner?"
He looked at her. Really looked at her and Ava could read that he was thinking about her question.
Then he shook his head, "why don't you surprise me, Ava?" Squinting at her, again. "You can do that right?"
Ava nodded sharply at that. She wasn't sure what he meant but she knew it was a trap.
"You're welcome to my home again, Ava from Salta." He called as he started retreating to the door.
Was he mocking me? She just couldn't decide.
Taking deep and long breaths, Ava returned to the counter, racking her head on what to make for dinner.
When Victoria had left, she'd forfeited the tour of the house and jumped right into cleaning the master bedroom, which she'd found to be at the extreme end in the west wing of the mansion.
She had been totally out of her wits when she saw how large the bedroom was. It was bigger than the house she lived in, back in Salta.
Could anyone be that rich?
The bed was very comfy that she was tempted to take a nap. He probably loved silver, because everything in the room had a touch of silver in it.
She took her time in the bedroom, then the en suite bathroom and closet. She would probably work her butts off before she could ever afford to live in such luxury.
She thought she might have a headache from looking at so much wealth.
As she took out items from the cabinets and freezer, she gave herself a mental shake to prevent herself from thinking about the bathroom that had a rainfall shower head and the closet that held everything she could never afford.
When she was done, she had cleaned a room that had feminine touch but not too much.
She'd seen the hung picture frames of him and his daughters. They all looked happy. It made her feel nostalgic.
There was nothing in any of those rooms she'd cleaned that was anything less than luxury.
Trying to focus on the dinner she was making, Ava wondered about the father she never met and the mother that never returned for her.
Apparently, money breeds happiness.
Grinding, peeling, pouring, cutting and turning took Ava approximately over an hour to prepare a decent meal.
It wasn't the meal she had intended but she'd ended up making it. She didn't have much confidence in her culinary skills but had a weird calmness within her that everything had turned out great.
Placing the food and other wares in the trolley and made for the dining, she wondered where his daughters were and why just one would be coming home.
Setting the dining the best she could, she returned to the kitchen to get her backpack and remove the apron.
Becoming aware of herself, she groaned at the sight of herself in the French windows. Her hair looked dry and fuller. The strands were straying out of the rubber and her green shirt looked uglier than ever.
Standing in front of the windows, she retied her hair with the already loose rubber and tried to get the excess oil off her face, using her bare hands.
Ava, Ava! She called herself and kept staring at the image in those windows. She had never really been bothered about her appearance, so why now?
She couldn't understand why she needed to look presentable and probably get rid of her ugly skirt and shirt. The grumbling in her stomach wouldn't stop as she dragged her feet upstairs to knock on his door.
Is it two hours yet? Should I let him know or just leave already?
Remembering that Victoria had told her she needed to get his permission to leave, her heart sank.
Standing there, she had never been so reluctant and nervous about knocking on anyone's door before. But here she was, looking like a frail cat.
She had lifted her hand to knock when the door swung open and he stood there, taking all the air in the space.
Ava swallowed, this time she wasn't bothered whether he heard or not. Her eyes fell on his wet streak gray hair that slicked back.
What was that scent?
She couldn't tell if it was a body wash or body lotion, or even a perfume. She uses the cheap kind so doesn't know anything about them.
But man! They smelled heavenly. She'd seen them lined up in the bathroom and the walk-in closet.
He'd already gotten out of his suit and was now in a loose fitting sky blue lounge wear.
"Ava! You're here." He said, his eyes searched her face. "How long have you been standing here? You could have just knocked." His voice was now rid of all the amusement earlier, but still had a soft undertone.
Wetting her lips absently, "I... I just..." Looking up at him, made her go blank that she couldn't say anything.
Straightening and standing fully in the doorway, Ava looked past him into his room and saw it still looked the way she had left it.
Richard peered at her face, frowning, "the dinner is ready?" He asked, getting her out of her awkward situation.
Ava nodded and looked away from him face.
"I was getting down there myself." Richard reached behind him and pulled the door shut. He walked ahead of Ava, while she trailed behind him.
She noticed he was barefooted. He must really feel at home, Ava thought.
"So, Ava from Salta..." Richard started as they got to the dinning.
There! The amusement was back in his voice. Ava smiled to herself.
Settling down on the chair at the head of the dining, he looked down at the plates before looking up at her face. "I'm guessing you'll surprise me."
Giving him an apprehensive smile, she slowly nodded, still standing. Richard seemed like he wanted to say something but rather returned the smile.
Ava watched attentively as his lips closed around the fork and he chewed, slowly at first.
His brows furrowed and he raised his eyes to her, a smile on his face.
"Where did you learn how to make this? Teriyaki chicken right?" He asked, chewing confidently now.
Ava's smile broadened. "My grandma taught me." She'd found the voice to speak again.
"And where's your grandma?"
"She's late." Ava had said it out loud. She'd never said it out loud because no one had ever asked about a family member. It still made her feel sad, but...
His eyes shadowed and he pressed his lips together. Perhaps, he shouldn't have asked that.
"I'm sorry..."
"It's okay. You shouldn't apologize, sir." She interrupted him.
Nodding slowly at that, he forked more of the spicy food into his mouth. He really liked what she'd made.
Richard raised his eyebrows. "You're twenty three right?"
"Yes sir."
He cocked his head. "That makes you a year older than my youngest daughter. She's twenty two," he said it as though he was talking to himself.
Ava doesn't know where that was going. "Ahh_"
"You should call me Richard please. I'd prefer you call me by that," he said softly.
Ava's eyes widened. No way was she going to do that. "I can't do that sir."
"Why not?"
"I'm not your daughter."
Richard chuckled and took a sip of water from the glass. Shaking his head at her. "You're right. My daughters call me daddy."
Ava chewed her lip, thinking of what to say.
Smiling up at her, "you should get a plate and sit with me, Ava."
Ava stared at him as though he'd said something strange. It was strange, anyway.
He read the confusion on her face. "It's fine. Go and grab a plate."
Sighing, she nodded and made to leave when his voice stopped her.
"I need you to tell me something first..." He looked right at her before his eyes halted on her hair, then returned to her face.
"What is it sir?" Her voice turned shaky.
"Your hair_ is it natural?"
What? That was totally unexpected!