What the Heart Needs (8 page)

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Authors: Jessica Gadziala

BOOK: What the Heart Needs
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“It’s the pink one,” Tad said when the closed the door.

“Then why make me try all of these on,” she asked.

“References,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it was known by everyone else but her.

Hannah decided to cut to the chase and put the pink one on next. She didn’t need references. She struggled to get the zip up the back before turning to look at her reflection. “Oh,” she said out loud.

It was a very light coral pink with a boustier top, tight midriff that flared out at her upper thighs and fell just above her knees. It made her look thin and curvy all at the same time and the color offset her pale skin and dark hair. She had never felt more lovely in anything else before.

“Oh,” Tad’s response mirrored her own when she walked out. He stood up with a huge smile that matched hers. “I knew it. Perfect.”

--

Hannah tried to keep her nerves under control the days leading up to the event. She slept even less than she had been sleeping before. The day of the event, Elliott had informed her via Sally that she wasn’t expected in at work. She was to go straight to his house and handle all the comings and goings as he could not be there himself.

She was excited to have the day off so she could make sure everything went off without a hitch.

And then she got a phone call from the housekeeper at seven in the morning of that day. Hannah felt her heart sink when she was informed that her ever punctual and accommodating housekeeper had broken her hand while playing with her grandchildren and would not be able to be at the house to clean for the party.

Hannah spent all of two minutes wallowing in her misfortune before she snapped out of it, packed her dress and shoes and makeup into her car, changed into a sweatshirt, leggings, and sneakers and drove to EM’s house, bent on cleaning the house top to bottom herself.

It was the first time she had ever seen his house. But ‘house’ was not the right word to describe where he lived. Perhaps ‘estate’ was more appropriate. She had to pull into the gated community and tell the security guard who she was and accepting a quick set of directions from him. She drove past massive houses with perfectly manicured lawns. The trees were mature and provided charming shade that reminded her of her hometown. Finally she pulled up to the correct house and up the massive winding driveway. Climbing out of her car, she looked up at his house with a sense of awe.

It was a huge two story house with a stone front and large windows. The front door was painted red like her parent’s front door. Despite its enormous size, it seemed quaint and homey to her.

It wasn’t what she was expecting at all. She had pictured something in simple stucco or glass and metal. Something cold and sterile.

Punching in the pass code to the security system he had provided her with the night before, she let herself in.

The entryway was enormous with a horseshoe shaped staircase. All of the flooring was gorgeous, shiny dark wood. To her right was a study with an executive desk facing away from floor to ceiling bookshelves that were, surprisingly, packed. To her left was an enormous sitting room with couches of buttery looking brown leather and captain’s chairs of brown and cream stripes. Judging by the EM headquarters and his house, either EM or his interior decorator really had a thing for earth tones.

Hannah walked straight ahead underneath the balcony from the second floor and toward, where she assumed, she would find the kitchen. She passed two full bathrooms and another, smaller sitting room which held a huge flat screen television and reclining chairs. All the way toward the back of the house, she found a kitchen that was bigger than her entire apartment. It was stark in all shades of white, tile, backsplash, and cabinets. The countertops and appliances were stainless steel. He had the largest stovetop she had ever seen with eight burners. Mary was going to love it.

Past the kitchen was an all-seasons room made completely of windows. There were comfortable looking fabric chairs and an abundance of greenery. She could see a huge in-ground pool set far in the backyard.

Hannah let out a wistful sigh, and went in search of cleaning supplies which she found in a small closet off of the kitchen.

As she dusted every surface and scrubbed the floors on her hands and knees, she silently thanked her mother for sending her to her grandmother’s house every Sunday afternoon to help her keep house. Her grandmother had grown up in a generation where men had went out and been breadwinners and the women had stayed home and raised children, and cooked meals, and made sure that their houses were absolutely spotless at all times. If a surface she had cleaned came out streaky, she was forced to go back and redo it until she had gotten it right. And while EM’s house was already very clean thanks to her decisive choice in housekeepers, she knew from her grandmother that there was certainly no such thing as “too clean”.

She had steadfastly made her way through the kitchen, the bathrooms, and the sitting rooms. She took breaks only to change out the water in her bucket and get more paper towels.

Time escaped her, huge chunks at a time. And before she thought it was possible, the caterers and servers were already at the door. She let them in and hurried to get back to the study to get it done so she could properly oversee the comings and goings of all the people in the house.

She had pulled the stationary desk chair and pulled it closer to the bookshelves, climbing it carefully until one of her legs was on the very top and the other was tip-toeing on the arm, just barely touching it so she could reach the top of the shelf.

“What are you doing,” came a voice at her side. EM. Somehow he had come in and up behind her without her even hearing him.

At the interruption, she lost her focus and, therefore, her careful balance. She barely had a chance to yelp as her foot slipped and she was falling.

She closed her eyes against the hard ground she was about to hit. And then felt her body falling into EM’s strong arms.

“Whoa,” he said, with what sounded like a smile in his voice.

Hannah opened her eyes slowly, looking up into Elliott’s startling blue ones. He was smiling!

She felt his arms cradling her carefully, one behind her back and the other under her knees. Only he could actually catch her as perfectly as men did in the movies.

“Are you alright,” he asked, not taking his eyes off of her face.

“I… yeah. You caught me,” she said dumbly.

Elliott chuckled. He actually chuckled. She felt the sound reverberate through her. “Yes I did. I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t been trying to climb my bookshelves like a spider monkey.”

Hannah felt a giggle escape her. He was so close. And he still hadn’t thought to put her down yet. Not that she was complaining, she actually felt comfortable, secure. “I was cleaning.” she clarified.

“Yes, that part was obvious,” he said, his face sobering. “What isn’t clear is why. I thought I had a housekeeper for that.”

“She called me this morning. She broke her hand.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Elliott said, considering her through heavy-lidded eyes. “But doesn’t explain why YOU were cleaning my house.”

“I want everything to be perfect,” she told him honestly.

A softness came to his face then, as if something she said was sweet, or touching in some way. “From the looks of it, everything is perfect.”

“I didn’t get to finish those…”

“You are not to finish those shelves. Am I clear,” she opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted her. “They were cleaned twice this week already. I don’t want you getting hurt, Hannah.”

Hannah felt butterflies flood her stomach. He had never called her by name before. She could practically feel herself melting in his arms.

He looked at her for a moment before clearing his throat and carefully placing her feet on the floor.

She had a moment to feel exceptionally self-conscious. He had never seen her in anything but work attire and here she was in sweat clothes. Oh, god, and she was sweaty! Way to ruin her professional appearance.

He wasn’t supposed to be home so early.

“What were you planning on doing… cleaning then running home to change,” he asked, looking her from the feet up.

She squirmed under his inspection. “I brought my things. I was just going to change in the bathroom.”

Elliott shook his head, running a hand over his scruffy face. “Where’s your stuff?” “In the sitting room,” she told him, a curious line forming between her eyebrows.

“Go grab it,” he told her and turned to pull his office chair back into place.

She came back quickly with her black garment bag, box of shoes, and small makeup pouch.

“I’ll show you somewhere that you can shower and get dressed. You’ve worked enough already. I’ll point the staff where they need to go for now.”

When he finished speaking, he turned and started up the staircase without waiting for her to respond. She scrambled up behind him down a hallway with two bedrooms and a bath. He led her into a door to what looked like the master bedroom with its deep green walls and comforter. It was his bedroom, she realized with a start. He opened a door and let her into a bathroom that was as big as the lobby at work.

Inside was warm tan tiling, a two vanity sink, an enormous glass shower with four showerheads, and… oh, the biggest, deepest tub she had ever seen in her life.

“You can take a shower in here,” he started, then noticed her envious look toward the bathtub and smiled. “or a bath.” He walked over to a cabinet and got two fluffy white towels out and placed them on the steps that lead to the whirlpool. “These buttons turn on the jets,” he said then walked over to the sink and grabbed a few containers from the cabinet beneath. “Here are some soaps and salts,” he said, placing them next to the towels and backing away toward the door. “Take your time, I’ve got everything covered downstairs.”

“Thank you,” she remembered to finally say to him before he was out of the door. She saw him shrug and close the door behind him.

She was out of her clothes and sinking into the most glorious bath she had ever had in her life in less than two minutes.

--

Seriously, what had gotten into him? He released her of her duties to take care of the party and take a bath instead? In his bathroom? There were four other full bathrooms in the house and he had led her into his bedroom and then into his personal bath.

Elliott shook his head to clear his scattered thinking.

He had wrapped up things at the office early, wishing to get home and settle down a bit before he had to deal with a house full of all his colleagues and associates. It was going to be a long and tedious night and he wanted to sit and have a drink before he had to get into the host mindset.

He hadn’t expected to walk in to see Hannah perched precariously on top of a chair and dusting his bookshelves. He hadn’t meant to sneak up on her. He certainly hadn’t been quiet coming in the house, but her mind must have been preoccupied and he startled her.

Thank god he had been close enough to catch her or she would have hit the floor hard and certainly hurt something. She had felt so soft in his arms, looking up at him with those huge grey eyes.

She looked vibrant but tired in her oversized sweatshirt and leggings. Something deep within him just wanted to reward her for being such a dedicated worker. Or, perhaps it was something more than that, but he wasn’t going to let his mind go there.

The way she had eyed his bathtub was downright endearing. It was a luxury completely lost on him, but he could tell by her expression that it was something she had longed for for ages. And he couldn’t deny her such a small thing.

He walked in to the kitchen to meet the staff, but couldn’t shake the knowledge that she was right above him, sinking naked into his bathtub.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Six

Hannah had lounged in the bubbles and jets of the rub for longer than she should have. It was so nice after months of quick showers to be able to lay and enjoy a soak. Her tub at her apartment was a shower/tub in one and when filled, the water would barely come up to her ribcage. A soak was not a soak if half of your body was constantly cold.

She crawled out of the bath only when her phone had chimed, announcing a text message and she worried that, perhaps, it was from someone messaging about the party. Wrapping herself in the softest towel she had ever felt in her life, she padded over to her cell phone to a message from Tad.

Tad: 7:30PM: Wear your hair down.

Hannah checked her reflection in the mirror, her hair was drenched.

Hannah: 7:32PM: I don’t have a blow dryer.

Tad: 7:32PM: Look around. He has one somewhere.

Hannah rolled her eyes but checked the cabinet where the towels and the toiletries were located. Then she looked under the sink, and to her utter disbelief, there was a blow dryer. She pulled it out and went to work on her hair, brushing through it with her fingers. It had been almost a year since she took the time to dry her hair. Since it was so long, it could take upward of twenty minutes to get it fully dry. But when it was finished, the end result was a avalanche of shiny black hair falling straight to her waist.

Checking the time with rising anxiety, she quickly went about apply a few coats of mascara and slathering on some pink lipstick before sliding into her dress and slipping into her skin-tone heels that Tad had chosen for her.

She took a few steps back from the mirror so she could get a full view of her body. Tad was right. Her hair had to be down. She barely even recognized herself. She quickly snapped a picture for Tad who had threatened to steal her office stereo if she didn’t sent him one. Somehow, she truly believed he meant it.

Tad: 8:02PM: Damn girl. Go show um what you got ;)

Carefully walking down the stairs, she heard the band practicing in the front sitting room. She placed her cell phone behind the lamp on the front table and walked into the study.

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