Victoria The Billionaires Maid

Ally’s [POV]

I hopped back a good three feet, but it was way too late. “Aww, come on.”

I stared down at the puddle of coffee dripping from the worn Formica tabletop to the red vinyl booth. The cracked pot in my hand held a jagged edge that could be a prop in a Quentin Tarantino movie. Right down to the coffee-stained orange lip.

If I had to sacrifice my last pair of white Converse sneakers to the coffee gods, at least it should’ve been goddamn full octane coffee, not decaf.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Diggs. Don’t move, okay?”

Mrs. Diggs, one of the diner’s regulars, shuffled to the end of her booth and cupped her mug in her manicured hands. She picked up her feet clad in bright orange and white sneakers as the coffee raced toward the wall of windows.

I winced. Dammit, the baseboards needed a scrub again. Maybe I could convince Mitch to let me stay late or come in early one day. I’d been picking up as many shifts as he’d allow me to, but at least if I did this it wouldn’t require talking to people.

I was pretty much talked out.

“Are you all right, dear?”

“Fine. I just don’t want you to get cut, okay? Give me a quick second and I’ll brew you a fresh pot.” Disgusted, I dropped my threadbare towel over the glass and scraped the shards into a pile as I shimmied my way out from under the table. “Sage, can you grab me another towel?” I hollered over my shoulder.

My best friend’s head popped out from around the corner. I gave her a rueful smile as I lost the battle against the river of coffee.

Sage rushed over with a pile of towels and crouched beside me. She blew a honey blond curl out of her face. No matter how many pins Sage Evans jammed into her twisting pile of curls one invariably escaped. Luckily it only enhanced her heart-shaped face and huge green eyes.

“What happened?” She started mopping up the escaping coffee.

“Careful.” I grabbed her hand just before a hook-shaped shard of glass took a chunk out of her palm.

“Jeeze, what did you do?”

I set what was left of the pot on the table. “One too many times left on the burner while empty is my guess. I barely tapped the side of the table and pop-crash.”

“Coffee.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Full pot no less.” I managed not to let the growl or the string of swear words free as I reached back under the booth and mopped up the coffee under Mrs. Diggs’ feet. “Okay, you’re set.”

The woman put her feet down as I crawled back out from under the booth. A pair of dark jeans and black boots stopped two inches from my coffee-splattered khakis.

I knew those boots.

My gaze skipped up to the way his jeans molded to strong thighs and a bulge behind his zipper that had caused me way too many sleepless nights.

My best friend since high school tucked his thumb into his pocket and drummed his fingers lightly against his leg. “Is this a new customer service thing?”

My mouth tipped up at one corner. If he only knew what kind of service I wanted to offer. “Jerk.”

Even with the slightly burnt decaf wafting up from the floor and covering me from knee to toes, couldn’t forget that partthere was no denying Seth Hamilton’s delicious toasted sugar and sex scent.

It was some ungodly expensive cologne. I wasn’t exactly proud of the fact that I’d gone to a department store’s counter to take an extra whiff of it. I’d hunted it down so I didn’t seem like some perv by burying my face in his chest to get a better inhale.

However, the bottled version wasn’t nearly as divine as it was on Seth. Probably had something to do with his stupid pheromones.

Or the fact that his alarmingly perfect body chemistry made everything smell good even during that one night we spent together with his daughter up all night with a fever.

I’ve relived that night more than I care to admit. Not the awful part. I’m not a freak. But I can’t help remembering the aftermath when we melted into a heap on the couch in half-hysterical laughter from exhaustion and relief. Yeah, so I shouldn’t have noticed, but I’m human.

It wasn’t like I jumped him.

I thought about it for a hot second. To be honest, I think about it all the damn time. When you didn’t get any attention of a sexual nature, it tended to take over the whole frontal lobe. The fact that he was so delectable didn’t help. However, the idea of tilting our perfect friendship into naked time was too much to deal with. Much of my life was the same refrain.

Me lusting after my best friend. Him completely clueless. Me more than willing to let him stay in the dark. It was a pathetic song that I couldn’t stop playing.

I scrubbed my tingling palms on my thighs and noticed his untucked white dress shirt. He was still wearing a navy sport jacket so he wasn’t completely off the clock, but definitely not in sales-mode. His dark hair was tousled from the breeze off the water, a pair of mirrored aviators hid his equally dark eyes, and his perpetual scruff made my insides buzzy. Who the hell needed caffeine when Seth came into The Rusty Spoon?

Or the thoughts of me on my knees in front of said man.

Good God, pull it together, girl. I slapped my thighs to kill the last of the buzzing. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself.” He bent at the waist and I got a blast of that sugar sex. He took off his sunglasses and his eyes crinkled at the sides as he smiled. His gaze slid from me to Sage. “Two woman job? Must be serious.”

“Hey, Pita.

” Sage rolled her eyes before bunching all the towels together. “I’ll put on that pot for you.” She stood up and dropped the pile on the lunch counter so it wouldn’t drip all over the floor.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“Wow, ten points for the full-on shatter, Ally Cat.” He helped me to a standing position, then hustled around the counter for the garbage and dragged it over to me. He must have heard the crunch and click of glass because he cupped his hands around mine and pulled them over the bin. I didn’t bother trying to save the towel, just shot the whole thing in the trash. “No cuts?”

“I’m fine, Dad.” Or I would be if he’d let me go. Because seriously, I couldn’t deal with tingles on top of mortifying coffee splatters. Not that I wasn’t used to the eternal stains that were part of being a waitress at the diner. It just seemed extra embarrassing in front of Seth.

He flipped my hands palms up then coasted the pads of his fingers over the tops. “All good.”

I curled my fingers into my palms. “Told you. The only casualty is my Chucks.”

He glanced around the garbage to my shoes. “Yeah, they’re toast.”

“No, I’ll just use them as my new mopping shoes.”

He frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing.” The little wrinkle between his brows cleared as he noticed Mrs. Diggs in the booth. “Aren’t you looking lovely, Mrs. Diggs? New workout gear?”

“Charmer.” But she preened and smoothed her bejeweled hand over the expensive designer Adidas jacket in the same orange and white of her shoes. “Nice to see someone watching after our Alison though.”Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Always.”

“Oh, brother.” I turned to the counter lined with red vinyl stools and collapsed into one to take stock of my situation.

Most of the coffee had hit the floor and my shoes, so I guess that was something at least. I stalked down the aisle and inwardly groaned at the squeak of my rubber soles. I hustled to the carpet in front of the door and scuffed my feet. I could actually feel the coffee squishing inside my shoes.

Ugh.

My life-up to my ankles in crap coffee. Of course.

I went around behind the counter to take care of the pile of towels Sage had left. “What’s up, Seth? You don’t usually come in this late.”

“I actually have some papers for you.”

My gaze swung back to him. He nodded to the back of the diner where he always sat. “Can you take a few minutes?”

It was only then that I noticed the folder in his hand. The white Hamilton Realty logo scrawled across the dense green glossy folder. My stomach twisted for a whole different reason this time.

Mom’s house.

My house.

What could have been my house if it wasn’t full of shitty memories and the stench of too much antiseptic. I closed my eyes as a wave of exhaustion chased the sad. It had been three months since my mom had finally passed away after a soul-crushing bout with cancer. She’d always been fragile, but the last five years had about killed me too.

By the end, all I wanted was peace for her.

And maybe a little for myself. I only let that part out in the deepest, darkest parts of the night where sleep and waking overlapped. When the quiet was finally comforting and the hiss of the oxygen compressor wasn’t my constant companion for the first time in too many years to remember.

But then the alarm pushed me out of the quiet and into my current reality. Bills, life, the diner, plans…all jumbled together in my little planner. And the little secret pocket where I’d stashed the page of classes I wanted to take. I had sent off for a few brochures from schools in New York City, and I looked at them now and then.

It had been so long since I could think about what I wanted that I honestly wasn’t quite sure what to do. But it didn’t stop me from poring over my brochures and the college catalog online.

Too bad dreams didn’t pay the bills.

I pressed a shaking hand over my belly. “Yeah. Let me make sure I can take my fifteen.”

I hurried over to the sink. My rings clicked together as I soaped up my hands to get the coffee smell off them. “Mitch, I’m going to take my break.”

He only grunted. Typical.

“Sage, you okay?”