think he was God’s gift to women.
She’d promised to find him the right person.
So here he was, sitting in his study at five to two on a Saturday afternoon, waiting to interview Barbara’s top recommendation, but thinking to himself he was possibly wasting his time again.
This woman Barbara was sending him was way too young for starters. Only twenty-six. And a widow no less. How on earth had that happened?
Barbara hadn’t said and he hadn’t liked to ask.
Jake sighed. A car accident, he supposed. Or an illness of some kind.
At least she didn’t have children. Nothing sadder than a young widow trying to raise children alone. Nothing tougher, either.
This young woman—her name was Abby Jenkins—was apparently looking for work and wasn’t qualified for much, her very short CV showing she had left high school at seventeen to work in a fish and chip shop till she’d married at twenty, shortly after which she’d left to become a stay-at-home housewife.
A strange choice for a modern young woman. Rather old-fashioned, in Jake’s opinion. Made her sound a little odd. He didn’t fancy employing odd.
But he would give her a chance. Everyone deserved a chance.
He heard a car pull up outside. A glance at his watch showed it was right on two. She was punctual at least.
Jake stood up and made his way from the study to the front door, arriving in time to unlock the deadbolt just as the doorbell rang. He took a deep breath and opened the door, not sure what to expect.
His breath caught at the sight of a very pretty blonde whose lovely green eyes were looking up at him with a decidedly worried expression. No, not worried. Nervous. The girl was terribly nervous, chewing at her bottom lip and clutching the strap of her black shoulder bag as if it were a lifeline.
He supposed it was only natural that she’d be nervous. Barbara had mentioned that this was the girl’s first job interview for her agency. Possibly it was her first job interview ever.
Jake’s eyes flicked over the rest of her appearance.
She was wearing dark blue jeans and a cream crocheted top, their snug fit showing a very good figure. Her honey-blonde hair was long and straight, pulled back into a low ponytail. She wasn’t wearing make-up, not even lipstick. It pleased Jake that she hadn’t dolled herself up like some of the other women he’d interviewed.
‘Mr Sanderson?’ she asked hesitantly.
Jake’s eyebrows rose at the realisation that she didn’t recognise him. Which meant she hadn’t ever watched his show, or any of the documentaries he’d made over the years.
He didn’t know whether to be happy or hurt, which was ironic.
Either way, it was still a positive factor. He definitely didn’t want a housekeeper who was a fan.
‘Yes, that’s me,’ he replied, willing now to overlook the fact that she was not only way too young but way too pretty. Jake reasoned that if he hired her, he wouldn’t be around her on a daily basis so he wouldn’t be in danger of being tempted by her very attractive package. Because, to be honest, it would be seriously hard to ignore those eyes. And that mouth.
Jake dragged his gaze away from it before his mind wandered into R-rated territory.
‘And you must be Abby,’ he said, smiling a little stiffly.
She smiled back. Not a big smile. A small one. But it showed lovely white teeth behind those luscious lips.
‘Yes,’ she said simply, then added in a rush, ‘it’s very good of you to give me an interview.’
‘Barbara recommended you highly,’ he said.
She seemed startled. ‘She did?’
‘Indeed, she did. Said she’d dropped in unexpectedly at your home before she signed you up and it was immaculate.’
A soft blush pinked her cheeks. Lord, but she was sweet as well as pretty. Jake liked pretty women, but he wasn’t usually attracted to sweet.
Till now…
‘I like to keep things nice and neat,’ she said.
‘Same here,’ he said rather brusquely. ‘Come in and we’ll talk some more.’
‘Oh. Right. Yes.’ But she didn’t move, her lovely eyes wide and unblinking.
Maybe he’d frightened her with his brusqueness. Jake could be very charming, when he chose to be. But he could also be intimidating.
Very charming was definitely not on. But intimidating was not nice either. Best stick to businesslike.
‘Perhaps I should give you a tour of the house first,’ Jake suggested matter-of-factly, stepping back and waving her inside. ‘Show you what you’ll be letting yourself in for. You might not want the job, even if I offer it to you.’
‘I’m sure I will, Mr Sanderson,’ she said and made her way past him into the hallway, where she stopped and stared down. ‘Oh, what a lovely floor. I love polished wooden floors.’
‘They’re hard work to keep clean,’ came Jake’s blunt comment as he shut the front door behind her.
‘I’m not afraid of hard work,’ she said, turning to look up at him.
Jake admired the flash of feistiness in her eyes.
It came to him then that he liked this girl. Really liked her.
‘Excellent,’ he said, knowing that he had found his housekeeper at last.
And if it bothered Jake that he also found Abby very desirable, then he determined to ignore it. But he also determined to put things in place so that he would hardly ever see her.
Out of sight was out of mind, after all!
Twelve months later…
ABBY WAS HUMMING happily as she locked up her neat little weatherboard cottage and headed off to work. She never suffered from Monday-itis. She liked her job. Liked looking after Jake Sanderson’s very beautiful house. And looking after Jake Sanderson himself, despite not liking him all that much.
Still, Abby would always be grateful to the man for hiring her when she had no current work experience or references.
Frankly, she still could not believe her luck at getting such a cushy position. Aside from the convenience of getting to work—East Balmain wasn’t too long a drive from Seven Hills—she was her own boss since Jake was never there when she was. She could do as she pleased; have breaks whenever she wanted; work at her own pace.
Not that she was a slacker. Abby was somewhat of a perfectionist when it came to keeping house. You could eat food off the floors in her own home. And off Jake’s by the time she left each day.
Admittedly, when she first arrived on Monday mornings, things could be on the extra messy side. Abby always knew when Jake had had company over the weekend, the kind who stayed the night and didn’t bother to lift a finger to pick up dirty wine glasses or load the dishwasher or do anything other than whatever it was his playmates did. The man who’d been voted most popular television personality earlier this year was reputed never to be short of female company.
Abby’s sister, Megan, who was addicted to Twitter and gossip magazines, kept Abby well informed about who her boss was currently dating. His latest squeeze was a newsreader from the same television channel that Jake’s show aired on. Her name was Olivia, a stunning brunette with big brown eyes and a figure to die for. A smile to die for as well.
There had been a time