As if sensing her distress, he touched her arm. "I mean, have you really thought through what the job entails. You're on call 24/7. If I want you to get up at 3am to make me a pop tart, then I expect it to be done. If I have a hankering for something that you have to drive across town for at the most inconvenient time, I expect it to be done."
Her frown deepened. She hadn't thought about it in that sense. "In that case, double my last offer." Turning to face her, he nodded. "Done. How early can you start?"
Holy fuck! Ruby's jaw dropped as she turned so she was facing him straight on. Is he serious? Four times what she made at the coffee shop, including tips, plus free room and board! Looking up into his eyes there was no doubt he was indeed serious with his offer.
"Oh-my-God. I was joking." "I'm not. Money isn't an issue for me. I think this can be a good arrangement, and I'm willing to do what it takes to make this happen." Her mind was whirling. There was so much to consider. She'd need to give notice to her landlord. To the coffee shop. What if it didn't work? What if Roth was actually some sort of eccentric nutcase? Surely offering someone the kind of money he was her to cook for him, especially when she admitted the best she could manage was mac and cheese was a little off-balanced. But the money would be so good right now.
She could work for him for the year and then study full-time for the next two years without having to worry about debt and juggling work and school. Whatever his reasoning for offering her what he was, she knew it was in her best interests to chalk it up to him being generous. There were times when you don't turn generosity away; this was one of those times. With her mind made up she couldn't help but tease. She glanced up at him, an eyebrow arched, pretending to contemplate the offer.
"Do I have to wear one of those little French maid uniforms?"
A heated, hungry look crossed his features as his eyes slowly made their way down the length of her body, then back up to meet her eyes once more. "Now, that is a very interesting idea. It's not mandatory, but I wouldn't be opposed to it."
He shrugged. "I welcome the idea, in fact." Her face immediately flushed. Damn. But a part of her loved the way he was looking at her. The hungry part longed for him to pull her tight against him and have his way with her on the cool deck.
"But..." He reached out and caught a lock of her hair between his fingers and then watched it fall, strand-by-strand from his fingertips. A shiver rocked her body, and she had to fight to suppress a soft moan. "If you're not willing to wear the uniform, I suppose you can wear whatever you like."Okay."
"Okay," she confirmed, smiling widely. "You have yourself a cook slash maid slash, whatever else you need in the middle of the night girl, Mr Rothdam."
His grin widened as he extended his hand to her. "You have no idea how much I was hoping you'd say that, Miss Ruby."
*****
The next day, Roth was seated in his office, studying the file the lady sitting in front of him had submitted for the interview. Clara watched as yet another female walked out of his office, looking flustered and flushed with embarrassment as she readjusted her business skirt.
"Ms. Clara?" An old lady wearing a pink plaid jacket called out, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose as she scanned the waiting area.
Clara stood up at the sound of her name and greeted her with a nervous nod and a smile that probably turned out more like a grimace.
"This way, please." The lady said, escorting her into the office that nine other girls had previously entered – and exited - before her.
Clara clutched tightly at the folder containing her carefully listed skills and qualifications; she had worked all week to perfect it, just for a chance at this job.
"Thank you," she muttered. The woman gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before exiting the room quietly and shutting the door behind her with a soft 'thud.' Clara let out a nervous sigh before turning around to meet the man she had only ever seen on billboards, the Internet, and magazines. It was the first time she would see him in person.
"Name," he stated, a deep accent lacing the singular, blunt word. Clara cleared her throat and wiped her sweaty palms on her grey pencil skirt.
"Hello," she said, "My name is Clara Serim" she smiled nervously at the authority figure seated on a large leather chair behind a dark, polished marble desk so large it almost took up the entire length of the office. Roth did not glance in her direction as she walked forward and placed her resume on his desk with shaky hands.
"Take a seat," he muttered, still staring intently at his computer screen. Clara nodded, even though she knew he was not going to be paying attention to the gesture.
"Thank you." she took a seat in one of the navy coloured leather chairs that were placed in front of his desk and gripped the arm of the chair with such force that she watched her knuckles turn white. A few silent moments passed before his dark eyes flickered in her direction briefly and then doing a double take.
Clara eyes widen slightly, and she swallowed from nervousness. Was I not wearing the correct clothing? Did he recognize me from somewhere? The nerves creating the knot in her stomach became stronger, and she felt the knot begin to expand.
"Ms. Clara Serim, was it?" Roth asked, raising an eyebrow as his gaze slowly scanned her attire before coming back to meet her eyes. Clara gulped and nodded, causing him to smirk and get out of his seat.