Lydia's Twin Temptation (15 page)

Presley Ann trotted over to her. “Please, please, please! Don’t fire me! My aunt will kill me! I promise I’ll do better. I’ll dress for the job tomorrow. I’ll shorten my nails tonight and, and I’ll be here on time, too. Please don’t fire me!”

Lydia doubted that she was going to work out, but she seemed very sincere. “Okay. I’m going to give you until next Wednesday to prove yourself, that’s a full week. That’s all the time you should need for me to know if you can handle this job. But you’re going to have to actually do the work.”

“I promise, I’ll prove myself,” Presley Ann said confidently.

Lydia had serious reservations about that. “I will be working alongside you at times, but you are going to have to do the work. No more shirking,” Lydia said as she turned and walked back toward the kitchen. She caught the nasty look Presley Ann gave her in the mirror hanging on the wall.

She turned to look back at Presley Ann, but she had already schooled her facial features into the same innocent wide-eyed look. “I promise I’ll do better.” Lydia knew exactly what she’d do better at.

“Please redo the vacuuming then dust downstairs. We’ll do upstairs after lunch, which will be in about twenty minutes.” Lydia planned to supervise Presley Ann much more closely up there, which would mean getting a late start on supper preparations.

Returning to the kitchen, Lydia couldn’t help but ponder Presley Ann’s real purpose in being there. Her aunt must have seen this as Presley Ann’s opportunity to snag a rich husband. She wondered how Chance and Clayton would react to her.

Her phone went off as she was about to turn the mixer back on. She looked at the message from Chance.

“How is your house help working out?”

She typed her response.
“Disappointing so far. I’m not sure she is going to work out. I gave her a week, but I doubt she will last more than a day or two.”

Moments later his next message arrived.
“Is she slow?”

“A little lazy. Entitled. I’m not sure she came to work at all.”

“What do you mean, baby?”

“You’ll see.”

“If she doesn’t work out, we’ll find someone who will. We’ll be at the house in about twenty minutes.”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness.
“See you then.”

* * * *

Chance could sense Lydia’s frustration the moment he walked in the back door and laid eyes on her. Her hair had been pinned up neatly, out of her way, when she’d delivered their morning snack earlier, but it looked like it had slowly unraveled over the course of the morning and she hadn’t noticed.

Except for the fact that she was obviously in a snit over something, he thought she looked even more beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes snapped with anger as she stalked back into the kitchen from the dining room.

“Hey, baby. You okay?”

“Oh!” She jumped and put her hand to her lips. “Hi, Chance. I’m sorry.” Her shoulders slumped wearily as she came to him. “My mind was elsewhere.”

“You didn’t sound pleased when I texted you,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to her temple. He brushed a curl from her forehead as he looked into her eyes.

“I guess I’m not good at supervising the help. Every time I turn my back she’s sitting down or goofing off. We didn’t accomplish near what I wanted to this morning.”

“First-day jitters?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. If I could get any work out of her I might be able to tell. I’m sorry, if you can give me another five minutes, I’ll have lunch on the table.”

Chance smiled at her and rubbed her tense little shoulders. “That’ll give me time to check my e-mail in the office. You take your time. We’re not on a strict schedule around here.”

“Okay.” Lydia smiled up at him and said, “Maybe I expected too much from her on her first day. There was some confusion, too. She thought she was going to be staying here on the ranch.”

“Huh?”

“Yes. She asked to be shown to her room.” Lydia did not look happy about that.

“I doubt that was what she was told, but I’ll ask Clayton about it. He should be in any minute.”

“I’ll tell him you’re in the office.”

Seeking to reassure her, Chance pressed a kiss to her forehead and said, “Give it some time, baby. Maybe she’ll settle in okay.”

Softly, she replied, “Maybe so. I’m happy to see
you
.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. He liked very much that she went to him for comfort. He squeezed her close and smiled broadly when she tipped her face up for a kiss, which he gladly gave. Her warm hands slid up his back, and she felt delicate in his arms as she yielded to him, allowing him to take the kiss a little deeper. A tremor rippled through her as he held her, and he sighed as she melted against him. Being near her was comfort for his soul.

Any challenges they’d had that morning, including the confrontation with Kade Parker, were nothing when compared with holding her close. He and his brother had approached Kade, knowing something was up when the man never came to get a
kolache
from Lydia’s basket. There had to be a reason he’d avoided her in their presence. There was something shifty about Parker that Chance was beginning to wonder about.

Robert Martin had been watching him from inside the barn that morning and had then told Chance and Clayton what he’d seen. Later that afternoon, they overheard Parker making a rude comment to Jim Cappell about Lydia. Jim had shut him down before he could finish what he was saying, but the damage was done. Chance and Clayton confronted him and told him to eat on his own until he could apologize and speak to Lydia with respect.

Knowing she was anxious to get the meal on the table, Chance brushed a parting smooch against Lydia’s lips, wishing it was the end of the day instead of only lunchtime. She opened her eyes, and he was pleased by the dazed look there and the way she continued to cling to him.

She blinked her eyes and released him with a chuckle and said, “Well, everything is right with my world
now
. You go check your e-mail and I’ll let you know when lunch is ready.”

“Okay, baby. No rush. It smells delicious, by the way.”

Lydia smiled and said, “I made you dessert, too.”

“Yum,” he murmured with a growl as he nibbled at her neck and made her squeal.

“Hey Lydia, I finished with the—Oops! Sorry about that!” The voice was anything but sorry sounding.

Chance looked up and caught his first glimpse of the young woman who must be the source of Lydia’s frustration. Now he understood Lydia’s lack of confidence in her new help. He wasn’t one to make snap judgments about people, but she didn’t seem the type to sign up for a job as a maid.

Lydia sighed and indicated the blonde, roughly in her mid twenties, who looked dressed for an afternoon at the country club and not for a day of house cleaning. “Presley Ann Woodworth, meet Chance Carlisle.”

The name explained a lot. She was probably one of Doug Woodworth’s daughters and well acquainted with the country club in Morehead. Doug Woodworth owned several area department stores, including Stigall’s.

Lydia didn’t make eye contact with him, but Chance could see her frustration as Presley Ann sauntered boldly to him and shook his hand.

“Mr. Carlisle, it is such a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she purred as she clung to his hand longer than she needed to.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Woodworth.”

Lydia reminded Presley Ann to redo the family room, and Chance hid his amusement as she sashayed out of the room.

“Lydia, I’ll be in the office if you need me.” She smiled at him and nodded, seeming relieved that he didn’t linger over the introduction. He glanced into the family room as he walked by and shook his head in disgust. Presley Ann maneuvered the vacuum cleaner like she’d never seen one before and was afraid to touch it, while wearing heels that were as high as skyscrapers.

Both he and Clayton had seen her type show up at the ranch before, looking for any excuse to ingratiate themselves. He couldn’t wait to see Clayton’s reaction to Presley Ann.

Sitting at his desk, he turned on his laptop. He patted his pockets and the papers littered on his desk looking for his reading glasses and thought about the business he needed to take care of that afternoon. Lydia had mentioned that morning that the kitchen needed some new tools that she’d have to order online. She needed her own laptop and access to a bank account for her own personal spending as well. It was satisfying to think about taking care of her and providing what she needed and prayed that things worked out between the three of them.

“Hey,” Clayton said as he walked into the office and plopped in his chair. He rubbed his face with his hands and asked, “Did you get a load of who is helping Lydia?”

“Yep. Good work, there, Clayton.”

Clayton groaned and replied, “I should have listened to you when you said to call Grace. That’s Doug Woodworth’s daughter, isn’t it? I’ll bet Lydia is really pissed at me.”

Chance leaned back in his chair and propped his boots on the corner of his desk. “I can’t believe you didn’t even ask Dorothy who she was going to send. Did you tell her that the help could live on the ranch?”

“No. I remember Dorothy asking about that and I said all of that stuff was going to be up to Lydia, but I never said that was what we wanted.”

“Well, she came prepared to move in.”

Clayton had the good sense to look sheepish. “I’ll bet that went over like a lead balloon with Lydia.”

“She looked damned frustrated when I walked in earlier. Lydia seems to like a tightly run ship and I wonder how long Society Girl is going to last.”

“Probably until she breaks a nail.”

“You know why she’s here, right?”

“I think it’s obvious. Let’s just stay out of their way. I’m sure this situation will resolve itself by the end of the week.”

“Coward.”

“What?”

“You basically hired her and now you’re going to leave it to Lydia to deal with her?”

“Put that way, I guess you’ve got a point.”

“Guys? Lunch is ready,” Lydia said from the doorway. She smiled, reaching out to Chance with his reading glasses in her hand, and said, “You left these in the kitchen. Sorry to interrupt.”

Clayton smiled and crooked his finger at her. “You’re not interrupting, Lydi. Can you come here for a second?” Lydia glanced across the house, presumably at Presley Ann, frowned, and then came into the office. Clayton stood up and pulled her closer as she sidled up to him, a frown knitting her brows together and her arms crossed over her chest. “I apologize for not asking more questions about our new house help when I arranged for the agency to send someone. Do you think she’s going to work out?”

Lydia shrugged. “She’s promised me she’ll work harder tomorrow, dress more appropriately, and prove herself. It’s possible I may have expected too much from her this morning.”

“I’m not sure she’s the type that’s cut out for the kind of work you need done.”

“Clayton, I don’t want it said about me that I didn’t give her a fair chance. If I fire her the first day then it may be more difficult to get anybody decent from the agency, especially since she’s related to the owner.”

“Hell, she’s related to half of Divine and Morehead. You’re being more generous than you need to be, Lydi,” Chance said.

“I already told her she had until next Wednesday to prove herself. It’s not an emergency for the house to be cleaned from top to bottom in a day. I just want to get it done and over with so things can be maintained properly. I guess I’m just anxious to—”

“What, baby?” Chance asked.

“Make a good impression. Take care of things around here for you two.”

Clayton smiled as he stroked her jaw with a fingertip. “Cut yourself a little slack, Lydi. We already think you’re doing a fantastic job.”

Lydia smiled happily at him and said, “Thank you.”

“So you forgive me?”

Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed, “There is nothing to forgive. I’m frustrated but I’m not mad at you. But”—she poked Clayton in the middle of his chest with her fingertip—“I’m hiring the next one. Come eat when you’re ready.”

They nodded, and she left the room, appearing a little more confident than when she walked in.

During lunch, Presley Ann did not come across as someone who had any interest whatsoever in a job or housework, and Chance couldn’t believe the gall of her aunt in sending her out. Lydia appeared to tune her out halfway through the meal when Presley Ann persisted in dropping names and events that Lydia knew nothing about.

Chance frowned when Lydia ate quickly and scraped half of her meal into the trash and set to cleaning up the kitchen. Presley Ann lingered until they finished eating and then made no move to help her.

The house was Lydia’s domain, and Chance wanted that to be clear. He debated for a few seconds then said, “Lydia, lunch was delicious. Presley Ann, it’s good to meet you. Lydia has complete control of our home and whatever she says goes. If you have any questions, address them to her.”

“Why, yes, sir, Chance,” Presley Ann said, wiping dust from the high heel of her fancy shoes. Either his subtle reference to Lydia being her boss went over her head, or she didn’t care.

Lydia caught his eye and smiled at him from across the kitchen and waved. If they both kissed her good-bye before going back to work that would raise questions and probably put more pressure on her than she needed right now. He blew a kiss when Presley Ann wasn’t looking, and Lydia grinned happily. Clayton blew her a kiss and waved, too, as they went out the back door into the hot, noonday sun.

Chance’s phone rang. He didn’t recognize the phone number in caller ID. “Chance Carlisle.”

“Mr. Carlisle,” said an ingratiating voice on the phone. Mrs. Perkins. Presley Ann Woodworth’s aunt. “How are things working out with Presley Ann? Isn’t she
won
derful?”

Chance made the only polite reply he could think of. “Well…she’s something, all right.”

“Did you know she was Tarkett County Fair Queen three years ago?”

What that had to do with being a good worker for Lydia, Chance didn’t know. “Um, okay.”

“I hope she meets with your approval.” Her tone led him to believe that Dorothy Perkins hoped Chance approved of Presley Ann on a personal level.

“Well, Mrs. Perkins. It’s not actually my approval she needs.”

Her knowing tone was loud and clear over the phone. “
Oh!
Is it Clayton whom she needs to be making happy?”

Chance hated this line of questioning. It was like talking to a professional matchmaker. “No, ma’am, actually it’s not.” He needed to be careful in how he worded his statement. “The house help we hired needs to please Lydia, our chef.” He stopped from speaking further on the subject because he knew anything he told Mrs. Perkins about his and Clayton’s relationship with Lydia would be spread far and wide through both Divine and Morehead before supper.

“Oh. I understood there was a housekeeper of sorts.” There was a superior quality to her tone.

Chance looked at Clayton, wishing that he was the one to get to enjoy this conversation. “Ms. Perkins, Lydia’s role in our home isn’t really the issue. The fact remains that Presley Ann will need to prove herself to Lydia, if she is to stay on.”

He could have called the whole thing off and severed Presley Ann’s employment on the spot. But he truly wanted Lydia to know that the decision to keep or fire the girl was up to her. Taking it out of her hands would only communicate that he didn’t trust her to do a good job running their home. Chance made his excuses and ended the call.