“She thinks Wi-Fi is non-essential?” Vicki sounded gratifyingly aghast at that. “That’s positively medieval! You’re the boss, tell her you need Wi-Fi.”
He felt like a fucking teenager snitching on Mrs. Cole and also a little guilty because he knew that her rules were in their best interests, but cabin fever—combined with tedium—had led to this new low.
“She’s the boss around here,” he said, shocked by how sulky he sounded. There was a stunned silence on the other end, followed by a hastily stifled giggle.
“Is big, bad Miles scared of mean, old Mrs. Cole?” she mocked him in an annoying sing-song voice.
Hell. He was never going to live this down.
He made a very bad situation about a thousand times worse when he unthinkingly corrected, “She’s not old.”
This time the pause that followed was loaded and lengthy.
“She’s not?” Vicki’s eventual question was much too damned nonchalant for his liking, and he made a noncommittal sound.
He was starting to agree with her on the merits of text messaging. At least then, he’d have time to think before he responded. Ordinarily, he rarely voiced an impulsive word.
But he hardly recognized himself anymore. Lusting after his employee, speaking out of turn, adopting puppies, changing his breakfast routine…playing bloody match three games on his phone. He didn’t know what was happening to him and he didn’t like it one bit.
“Vicki, I have to go.”
“Wait, so how old is Mrs. Cole?”
“I’ll speak with you again soon.”
“Miles, tell me…is she like forty? Thirty-five?”
“Take care.”
“No. Miles—”
He disconnected the call with a huge sigh, feeling harassed. His phone beeped, and he gritted his teeth. He should have known she wouldn’t let it go. He lifted the device.
Thirty? Younger? Seriously? Younger than thirty? She doesn’t look it. Or does she look it? Have you seen Mrs. Cole out of her Mrs. Cole suit? Send pics!!!!
Her “Mrs. Cole” suit. It was an uncannily apt description. Because he was starting to understand that Charity wore that uniform, that persona, as some kind of disguise. And it made him desperate to know why.
He tapped out a hasty message to Vicki: Tell Mum I’ll call her on the weekend XOXO
Miles!!!
He switched off his phone, ignoring the poop emoji that followed her many exclamation points.
He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and watched Stormy chase leaves around the yard, while his mind was furiously occupied elsewhere. He glanced at the house and saw the kitchen curtain twitch, as if someone had quickly ducked out of sight when he lifted his head.
He sighed deeply and was pleased when the inhalation didn’t result in an automatic cough. Despite the cold weather, he was getting stronger and healthier. The fresh air, exercise, and Mrs. Cole’s cooking were working their magic.
Despite the inconvenience of having his housekeeper inexplicably transform into a goddess, his decision to come here hadn’t been too misguided. He looked at Stormy who mistimed a lunge for a leaf and went tumbling head over paws.
“And who knows what would have happened to you if I hadn’t been here?” he told the dog, bending a knee to rub her lopsided ears.
The backdoor opened as he was pushing to his feet.
“Good news,” Charity called from the doorway. “George says they’re repairing the bridge tomorrow and Thursday. Once that’s done, they’ll send an emergency team out to fix the transformer on Friday. Hopefully we’ll have power by the weekend.”
Fantastic. Maybe if he were able to leave the house more often, he would stop fixating on her so much.
He stared at her gentle, smiling face, his eyes on her full lips and even white teeth. He recalled the long legs hidden beneath that drab skirt and the perky breasts so effectively disguised by that boxy blouse.
And then he considered the young woman who had hidden herself in the middle of nowhere for three long years. Three years of harsh winters filled with pillaging baboons, wildfires, power outages, floods and isolation. And summers catering to entitled, rich arseholes—yes, he included himself, and definitely Hugh and Vicki in that—not much older or younger than her. With nobody but two elderly men for company.
He shook his head. Maybe he would stop fixating on this stunning, mysterious woman, once the power and the road were restored.
But he very much doubted that.
“Stormy, get back here!” Miles called in an urgent undertone as Stormy darted down the hall with a pair of his briefs in tow. With the road restored, he had managed to get her to the local vet. And