London Falling (13 page)

“There are plenty of other cupcakes out there,” she said. “Other flavors.

You seem like a plain vanilla kind of guy to me. Unfrosted.”

“I liked this flavor.” He stared right back at her. “Your cupcakes are very … tempting.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Simon, it’s just a fairy cake,” Lucy said.

He had almost forgotten she was there.

“But they’re very good fairy cakes,” he said, although he didn’t look at Lucy when he spoke. He and Aimee were having a contest of wills, and he wasn’t going to be the first to look away. If he could get under Aimee’s skin, he could prove that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Although right now she looked like she’d rather beat him with the flying pan.

“Why are you being such a prat?” Lucy asked. “She doesn’t want to make you a fairy cake. If you want one that badly, I’ll make you a whole batch of fairy cakes.”

“Absolutely not!” He whipped his head around to stare at her.

Disgusting. Aimee threw her hand over her mouth to hide her laugh.

Lucy wrinkled her nose in confusion. “You are being so strange this morning. I think the lurgy must have addled your brain.”

“It addled more than my brain,” he muttered.

Lucy stared at him as if trying to work out the thought processes of his mind. “Do you want me to leave and come around later? When you’re normal again?”

“Like that will ever happen,” Aimee mumbled.

Simon narrowed his eyes at her to let her know he’d heard her comment, and then turned his attention to Lucy. “No. We need to get this event settled.

Let’s go talk in my study. Where we have some privacy.”

“Excuse me, Lord Ruleford, but would you be requiring breakfast this morning?” Aimee asked, before executing an over-the-top curtsy and swinging her arm gracefully to the floor. The puppy took it as an invitation to jump up on her legs and lick her cheeks, and his tail wagged at this unprecedented opportunity to be near her face. “Blech,” she said, blocking her face with one arm and quickly standing.

Simon hid his smile. Good dog, he added in his head.

Aimee looked at him as if she were waiting for him to do something.

Right. Breakfast, the one thing he’d come down here for.

“I’ll just take it up to the study,” he said.

“Hmmph,” Aimee said as she removed a plate from the cupboard.

Lucy shook her head.

“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong with eating in my study?” Neither woman said a word. “I always eat in my study.”

“That’s pretty clear,” Aimee said. “Tea?” She said it as if tea were the most pretentious drink in the entire world.

“Coffee,” he said. “What’s wrong with eating in my study?”

“Coffee? Really?” Aimee asked. “Surprise, surprise. I thought all you Brits only drank tea. There’s a Starbuck’s on every corner, but I thought that was for the tourists.”

“I drink both,” he said. “And the coffee smells too good to pass up this morning.” He needed the caffeine to get through this day. He was still exhausted from the lurgy, and his days weren’t going to slow down anytime soon, not with the bank and the charity event to contend with.

“It should smell good. I’ve had training from the best.”

“Right confident, aren’t we?” he asked.

She smiled. “I’m not scared. I was barista of the month for the past four months at Starbucks. Of course, you don’t have an espresso machine, but if you did, you’d see the full measure of my talent.”

Ah, an insight into her life. “So you work in a coffee shop?” he asked.

“During the week,” she said, as she added three strips of bacon to a plate of pancakes. His mouth watered. “Five-thirty to ten-thirty in the morning.

Then school. Then the parking garage.” She handed him the plate and must have seen the confusion in his eyes. “I work in a parking garage at night, as a cashier. It’s usually slow, so I can get a bunch of homework done while I’m working.”

“Two jobs, plus school?”

“Three, actually. I wait tables at the Crab Shack on weekends.” She set silverware and a napkin next to his plate. “They wanted me to help cook, but the pay is better in the front of the house. That’s where my t-shirt is from.”

She pointed at her chest, and all he could think about was how she would feel in his hands, stripped of her clothes. Underneath him.

“Shut your clam,” she said.

“What?” he asked.

“Shut your clam.” She held the front of her t-shirt out to highlight the saying on her t-shirt. “That’s the logo at the Crab Shack. You know, we’re supposed to be snotty and rude, but in a funny way. It’s our schtick. Tourists love it.”

“Ah. Snotty and rude. You must be one of their best servers,” he said.

“Simon!” Lucy said.

Aimee slapped the breakfast plate in front of him.

“Sorry.” Damn-it. What was he doing? He was supposed to apologize to her, not antagonize her further.

“Excuse my snotty brother,” Lucy said. “I never thought I’d meet someone who worked harder than Simon. When do you have time to socialize?”

Aimee laughed, but there was sadness behind the laugh that caught him in the gut. “Socialize?” she asked. “What’s that?”

Her eyes focused on something far away that neither of them could see, and Simon glimpsed another aspect of the person she was beneath the hard shell. She was lonely. How had he missed this?

She was amazing. Hard-working, determined, and sweet. And he was the biggest prat on earth. He needed to apologize for real, without his sister there.

“Do you want anything?” Aimee asked Lucy.

“I already had breakfast,” she said. “But I will take some tea.”

“Black?” Aimee asked as she walked over to the cupboard and fished out two cups.

“No, no. I’ll get it.” Lucy stood and took one of the cups from her.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you. I think I have a solution for your problem.”

Aimee snapped to attention, her eyes lighting up at the thought. Simon’s relief sank through him, but with a touch of sadness. Although he would miss her, Aimee could get on with her life, like she deserved. Right odd to feel this way, after having only known her for a few days.

“You clearly have talent in the kitchen,” Lucy continued. “I’m always looking for new recipes and techniques to learn. You can come live with me until your friend gets home from India, and you can teach me all of your kitchen knowledge. Sort of like a bartering agreement.” Aimee’s shoulders slumped. “You don’t like it? Surely Simon can’t object to a bartering agreement? No money will change hands, and it will get you out of his house.”

“I’ll still miss my first few weeks of class.”

“I know,” Lucy said. “Maybe we can come up with something in the meantime.”

If anything, Aimee’s shoulders slumped even further. He waited for her to tell Lucy that she’d already agreed to a bartering agreement with him.

“Okay. Where do you live?” Aimee asked.

Blood rushed to his head. Did she think she could just leave without fulfilling her bargain with him? She’d lied and cheated her way into his house, taken advantage of him, and put his chances for winning the royal family’s business at risk. After everything he’d done for her, she was going to walk out and leave him high and dry with an event in his house in less than a week!

“She’s not going anywhere.” He turned to Aimee. “Did you forget about our agreement?”

Aimee looked at him as if he’d sprouted a red circle nose and clown eyes.

“Um, aren’t you the same person who tried to turn me into the cops just yesterday? I’m ruining your chances at the royal business,” she said, while making quote marks with her fingers. “You should be glad to be rid of me.”

Both she and Lucy stared at him waiting for his answer.

“Aimee already agreed to a bartering agreement with me. She cleans and cooks in exchange for room and board.” He stood and towered over Aimee to emphasize his point. Instead of intimidating her, his body language didn’t seem to faze her one bit. She just looked at him as though he were a recalcitrant child with too much time on his hands. He must have got out of practice, since it usually worked to intimidate even the toughest of bank vice presidents.

Damn-it, she was the one in the wrong! She was the one who snuck into his house, not the other way around. And now she was going to leave him high and dry, with no one to help him when he needed it most. There was no way he was going to let her abuse him like that.

“Sheesh. I didn’t realize you enjoyed my company so much,” she said with an amused grin.

“I don’t.” At least he didn’t want to enjoy her company. Aimee’s smile disappeared. “I need someone to clean and cook. If I let you go to Lucy’s, I have to waste more time trying to hire someone to do the job you’ve already agreed to do. And I can keep a better eye on you here.” He would not allow her to do this to him. “Does your word mean nothing?” he added.

Aimee kept her eyes trained on his, and he felt a connection between them, almost as if a string tied them together. Could she read him? Did she know that if she really pushed, he would have to let her go? Would she call his bluff?

She stepped away and faced his sister. “Although I’d much rather work for you, I find that my current employer is too helpless to get along without me.”

Simon released a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding. He ignored the intended jibe in her response, picked up his plate and signaled to Lucy that he was ready to go discuss their plans for the charity event. A little niggle in the back of his brain told him that he was talking out of both sides of his mouth. On the one hand, she put everything he wanted at risk and he needed her gone, but on the other, she provided a solution to his problems.

And right now, he needed her. In his house. But not too close.

“Well, I for one am sorry that I won’t get to cook with you,” Lucy said. “If those fairy cakes are any indication, you’ve got talent. Too bad Simon won’t recognize that.” She slipped off the stool. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She motioned to the two bags she’d set on the floor. “These are for you.” Aimee looked at her in confusion. “They’re clothes. For you to wear.”

“Brilliant,” he said. Finally, a chance to see her out of those dodgy pajamas.

“I can’t accept them,” Aimee said.

Lucy’s face fell. “Why not?”

“I already have clothes,” she said, pulling her t-shirt between her thumb and forefinger. “They’re perfectly acceptable to clean in.”

Simon rolled his eyes. Dear God, this woman wouldn’t accept a free glass of water if she were dying of dehydration. “You’ll take them.”

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but he shut her up.

“Consider them your uniform,” he said. “If you were getting paid by me, I’d give you money for a uniform.” She still looked like she wanted to decline the offer, but he hadn’t helped his father build Ruleford’s into the top independent bank in the country without learning a few things along the way.

He switched tactics. “Look, you can’t go about wearing those clothes in public. It would make me look bad and make people question our story that you’re Blake’s friend visiting on vacation. You got me into this situation. The least you can do is play along with it.”

He could almost see the thoughts warring on her face. Her need to do the right thing, however, won over her fear of accepting charity. “Whatever,” she said, walking over to the bags and lifting out a pair of pants. “If you need your cleaning lady to wear,” she peered at the label on the pants, and her eyes rounded, “Gucci pants to feel better about yourself, then who am I to argue. I just work here.” He hid his surge of relief. She continued, “It must be hard on you.”

“What?” he asked, reveling in the fact that he’d finally won with her.

“Caring so much what other people think.”

Her comment stole the victory out from underneath him. “That’s not it at all,” he said. He wanted to help her. And part of helping her was providing clothes when she had none. He didn’t care what other people thought. “Lucy, are we going to talk or not? I’ve got to go round to the office at some point today.” He picked up his plate and coffee.

“Of course,” she said. She turned to Aimee. “Let me know if anything doesn’t fit. I brought some shoes, but I didn’t know your size. Hopefully, something works for you.”

“I’ll expect to see you in something different next time I see you,” he said.

Aimee saluted him. “Yes, my Liege.”

He grinned back at her. She had him angry one minute and laughing the next. If he didn’t have such an important job to do, he’d keep her around just for the sheer entertainment value. He couldn’t wait to see how she tried to get the best of him with this situation.

As soon as he sat down behind his desk, Lucy started in on him.

“What’s going on between you and Aimee?” she asked.

Bollocks. Stalling, he filled his mouth with a giant forkful of pancake and then decided to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

She raised her eyebrow. “Really, Simon. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am not completely unversed in the ways of men.”

Could he feel any more like a prat today? First Aimee and now Lucy.

“You’ll find someone, Lucy. You’ve got everything a bloke could ever want, and I’m not speaking as your brother.”

“Don’t try to change the subject-we were talking about you and Aimee. I saw how rude you were to her.”

Leave it to Lucy to make him feel even worse. “I’m merely annoyed with the situation she has put me in. I know I’m taking it out on her.”

Lucy circled her finger on the arm of her chair. After she tapped her nail in the center of the mock circle, she leaned forward. “Are you sure it’s not because you’re flirting with her?”

He almost choked on his pancakes. He coughed a few times and drank some coffee to clear his throat. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am not flirting with her.”

“Really? It seems to me that you’re acting like a boy still in primary school trying to get a girl’s attention by being mean to her.”

That was ridiculous. He was attracted to her, of course, but he wasn’t flirting with her. He merely enjoyed baiting her. So few people in his life ever debated with him, and he always had to be right careful what he said to his employees or else they would think he were on the verge of firing them.