Quarantined with the Billionaire Page 4

  “It’s all right. I don’t mind it.” I wasn’t very good at it, so I often ate microwave meals or made simple dishes I couldn’t exactly mess up. But that sounded so low-class. I didn’t want to give Mr. S—Maddox—a reason to judge me.

  Even if it would have been right on the money.

  “Maybe I can turn you around, help you find a way to love it.” Soon, he began cracking eggs into a glass bowl and, after pouring in a little milk, he began whipping them until they looked almost frothy. Then he warmed a skillet on the stovetop before placing a pat of butter in it, stirring the yellow square around as it melted. I watched every motion he made while continuing to peel the fruit, realizing that maybe variety, like what Maddox was doing, made for a more exciting experience.

  After a bit, he asked, “Do you like cheese in your omelets?”

  “Sure.”

  Only he didn’t take a block of cheddar out of his fridge. The cheese he removed was in a wedge, an off-white color, and he sliced it thinly while the remaining butter melted in the pan. I didn’t want to look ignorant, asking what kind of cheese was, and instead just watched him work. He sautéed the chopped pepper first and, after a few minutes, dropped the tomatoes in for a few seconds before scooping them all up into a small bowl and adding more butter to the hot pan. Next, he whipped the eggs again before pouring them into the skillet.

  I had to admit that he made it look like an art form.

  “One of my secrets, Bailey, is using the finest cheese. Have you ever had Gruyère in an omelet?”

  “I don’t think so.” Actually, I knew so. I’d probably never had Gruyère in any context.

  “Oh, you’d remember it. What it does for the other ingredients is divine.” At this rate, the food would be ready before the beverages, but I only had four oranges left to peel. I tried picking up the pace instead of staring at what he was doing, but his work was fascinating.

  And my mouth was watering.

  Reaching into the cabinet over the stove, he took out a small bottle. As he took off the lid and shaker, he poured a small amount of a green herb into his hand before setting the bottle on the counter. I was then able to see that it was sage. He also sprinkled salt and pepper on the giant omelet before expertly flipping it over in the pan, just as I imagined a seasoned chef would do.

  But now it was time for me to see if I could operate the juice machine. It really was as easy as he’d made it sound, and I pushed all the oranges through the top after turning it on. The sound of it turning the fruit into liquid overpowered the light sound of the eggs frying in the pan but, soon, I had a pitcher of juice. “Where’s the trashcan?”

  “Over there, under the sink.”

  I placed all the peels in the empty plastic bag before carrying it over to the sink. By the time I returned, Maddox had placed the cheese on top of the round bed of eggs, followed by the cooked tomatoes and pepper. Finally, he folded it over and then cut it in half with the spatula, making two quarter circles. Grabbing two plates from the cabinet near where I stood, he slid them onto plates before cutting up the chives on top.

  It looked amazing.

  “Bailey, the glasses are in that cabinet beside the refrigerator.” Had I been thinking, I would have already poured the juice. The cabinet doors at eye level had glass in them. While the glass wasn’t completely transparent, the interior of the cabinets were lit, allowing me to make out shapes. The drinking glasses and goblets were pretty obvious, had I been thinking about it.

  “Got it.”

  While I poured the juice into large glasses, Maddox continued moving around the kitchen. “Shall we?”

  “Let’s.”

  While I’d hoped we would have gone into the dining room, just so I could see more of his magnificent home, I was equally pleased to see him taking the plates into the well-lit room to the south. I followed along. “I call this area the breakfast nook. Most of the time, I like to read while I eat, but sometimes it’s nice to just look out at my little patch of nature.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “In a few weeks, I’ll be eating out on the deck.”

  “Doesn’t it get too hot out there in the summer?”

  “Not at breakfast. Brunch, though, can be a little much in July and August.”

  He placed the plates at a diagonal so that they both seats would be facing the windows. Beside each plate he placed a cloth napkin with a knife and fork. I took that as my cue to place the juice glasses down.

  “Would you like coffee or water or anything else? Tea maybe?”

  “No, I’m okay for now. Thanks.”

  “Maybe I should have made toast.”

  “I’m good if you are.”

  “Then eat up,” he said, pulling out a chair for me. “These are best hot.”

  I felt a little awkward, having him help me sit down, but I had to admit to myself it was kind of nice. Soon he sat beside me and I thanked him again.

  “You’ll have to let me know what you think.”

  He placed his napkin in his lap and I followed suit before picking up my fork. Then he cut off a corner of his omelet but he was waiting for me to go first, so I cut off a tiny bite and slid the fork in my mouth.

  “Mmm.” My reaction was almost involuntary, as my mouth was assaulted with satisfying warmth, but the flavors were incredible. Slightly salty, a little sweet and a lot savory, a tad nutty, and not greasy in the least, that omelet was likely the best I’d ever tasted. Closing my eyes, I focused on appreciating every tiny sensation my taste buds were throwing at me.

  “Was I right?”

  “Oh, yeah. This is amazing. Thank you so much.”

  “Thank me by eating it all, Bailey. That’s the best compliment you can give a chef.”

  It was then, as I gobbled up that omelet as if I hadn’t eaten in days, that I realized Maddox Steel would have been ridiculously successful at whatever he’d chosen in life. It seemed that he’d made it his mission to excel at whatever he did.

  And it was intoxicating being around that kind of confidence, that silent air of self-assuredness.

  That sort of masculinity.

  I tried to guess his age based on his looks, because I couldn’t tell. I only knew he had to be quite a bit older than I—but I had no way of knowing for certain. The man was gorgeous, and I wondered if eating in his presence made that damned omelet taste all the better.

  Even the orange juice was the best I’d ever enjoyed.

  Soon, I’d cleaned my plate. One of Maddox’s dark eyebrows lifted over an ocean-blue eye, and I could see a twinkle in it. “Guess your breakfast before coming here this morning paled in comparison?”

  Grinning, I tried to stifle the blush threatening to cover my cheeks. “Guess so.” I dabbed at my mouth with the off-white napkin, ready to broach the subject I’d wanted to since arriving. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.” Maddox took a sip of his juice, nodding his approval.

  “How hard is it to move up in your company?”

  His brow furrowed in such a lovely way, making him even more handsome than he’d seemed all morning. “I’m not sure what you’re asking. Why don’t you give me a little background?” After taking another large bite of his omelet, he set his fork down.

  Under his gaze, receiving his complete attention, I felt my courage waver. This man was nothing if not intense, and his scrutiny felt a little intimidating. But I’d brought it up and I wasn’t going to chicken out now. “Well…I’ve been with Essential Solutions for five years now, and even though I’m good at customer service, I don’t want to do it for the rest of my life. So I’ve tried applying for other jobs when openings come up, and I’m never chosen.”

  He considered his words, not answering immediately, and I wished I could read what was in those deep blue eyes—but I didn’t know him well enough. “Bailey, just because you’ve worked somewhere for a while doesn’t mean you’re guaranteed promotions. You have to earn them.”

  My feathers were ruffled now
, so I had to fight to keep my voice steady. Emotional appeals would not work with this man. “I believe I have, Mr. Steel. I get excellent ratings on my evaluations. The last time I got passed over for a job, I asked the manager what I could do to improve my chances, and she told me I was an excellent candidate.” Maddox nodded, having all but flinched when I called him Mister moments earlier. “So why not me? I asked. And she said that the other person was just slightly more qualified.”

  “Well, there you go then. Just keep trying.”

  “But that was…bull—” I paused just slightly, not wanting to lose his attention just because I cursed. “—baloney. The person she hired had only been working for Essential for two years compared to my five.”

  “When was this?”

  “Last month. Just before Valentine’s Day.”

  “Hmm.”

  Should I hold back? Maybe, but my heart wouldn’t let me. “I’ve been looking elsewhere for work. I don’t want to die in customer service.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can give you that raise you asked about if that helps.”

  “The money would be nice…but that’s not the issue. It’s about feeling used and abused. Unappreciated. Disrespected.”

  “What aren’t you telling me, Bailey?”

  “I’m good at my job. Not just good. I’m one of the best in my department. But my talent is being wasted there. And honestly? I think it’s because Dominique doesn’t want to replace me. Who do you think trains all the new hires?” The way his eyebrow almost arched told me he was taking me seriously. So I picked up my juice glass and downed half of it, keeping my mouth shut for fear of overstating my case.

  Holy crap. The juice was sweeter and cooler than the last sip I’d take—but I still thought it was probably the best orange juice I’d ever drunk, and here I was downing it like a person dying of thirst instead of savoring it.

  “Tell you what.” Picking up his fork, he scooped up more food before looking me directly in the eye. “Today is your chance to impress me. I don’t disagree that you must be a good worker, or they wouldn’t have sent you to me, but there’s a chance that there’s something there that’s holding you back, something you haven’t recognized about yourself. Maybe your leaders haven’t been able to properly express your shortcomings to you. I can give you a fair evaluation, without any kind of bias.”

  Nodding, I picked up my glass once more. “Thank you…Maddox. That’s all I ask.”

  Chapter Five

  I sat at my laptop, wireless headset wrapped around my head, making one phone call after another. Really, all I was doing at the moment was just glorified customer service. Maybe I was the perfect person for this job.

  But I had to prove to my temporary boss that I wasn’t wrong about being held back. I had so much more potential than was being utilized. I’d struggled to earn a bachelor’s degree before coming to his company, and a fat lot of good that had done me. Elise and most other coworkers in customer service didn’t have more than a diploma and some experience dealing with customers. I didn’t knock them trying to move up the ladder, either, but I was no longer okay with stagnating.

  I was almost thirty, for heaven’s sake.

  While I waited for the person on the other end of the line to pick up the phone, my mind wandered back to breakfast. Maddox really was a beautiful man, pleasing to the eye, but he was extremely intelligent, too—an irresistible combination.

  But too fucking rich. Maybe even spoiled.

  When we’d finished breakfast, I’d picked up my plate and glass, and he’d told me to just leave them on the table. “That’s what I pay Simon for.” I’d protested, but he told me it was time to get to work. So, after he’d gone to his office, leaving me at my desk, I’d scooted back to the breakfast nook and picked up our dishes, taking them to the kitchen and rinsing them off in the sink. Then I hurried back to the study, just in case Maddox had peeked in or needed me for something.

  I had to be ready.

  I had to impress the man.

  And I had a shitload of work to do.

  On the third ring, someone picked up, and I didn’t waste any time getting down to business. I had almost three weeks of appointments to reschedule, and if I couldn’t get that much done today or at least make a good dent in it, I doubted Maddox would believe me capable of anything in his company.

  “May I speak with Mr. Tripp, please?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Excellent. I’m calling on behalf of Essential Solutions Finance.”

  “This isn’t Peggy, is it?”

  “I’m sorry. Peggy who?”

  “Peggy, Maddox’s assistant. You don’t sound like her.”

  “Oh, right. I’m not. I’m temporarily filling in for her.”

  “Hmm. I suppose she’s sick?”

  “I really don’t know, sir. Anyway, I’m calling because you have an appointment with Mr. Steel tomorrow morning at nine AM, but we’re suspending all in-person meetings at this time due to COVID-19.”

  “Doesn’t that seem a little extreme?”

  “Perhaps, sir, but Mr. Steel wishes to take precautions to keep everyone, particularly our valued clients, safe.” I heard what could be best described as a harrumph from the gentleman on the other side but nothing else, so I proceeded. “That said, Mr. Steel feels that your meeting is important, and that’s why I’m calling. He’d like to either change your meeting tomorrow morning to a virtual appointment or reschedule an in-person appointment for some time in April.”

  The man was quiet for a few seconds. “What do you mean virtual appointment?”

  “We could set something up using Skype or Zoom. You can chat online but with—”

  “Oh, no. No. I’d prefer meeting with him in person.”

  “I could set up a simple phone appointment if you’d prefer.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “All right. Let me see what he’s got open.”

  And so the rest of my morning went that way. Maddox already had quite a few meetings booked for April, but I had to squeeze more in there. I used the same amount of time allotted for those appointments now, making sure I gave him a little time in between each slot for breathing room—but April was filling up fast, and there wasn’t much I could do about it. But I was getting it done fast, and I knew the people I’d rescheduled with would be able to tell Maddox how polite I’d been if he asked.

  Had I known then how the pandemic would play out, I would have rescheduled them for May.

  Early in the afternoon, nature called—and I needed something to drink as well. My mouth felt parched after talking constantly. But I wasn’t going to interrupt Maddox to ask him where the bathroom was. I should be able to find it myself.

  Before I left, I wrote Be right back! on a sticky note, slapping it on the laptop monitor in case Maddox came looking for me. This whole time, I’d heard his voice booming through the door, resonating with power and confidence. Almost anyone who was worried about the market right now could be talked off the ledge by the powerful, reassuring Maddox Steel. Hell, he’d already convinced me, and he wasn’t even talking to me.

  I headed out of the study, through all the rooms I was becoming more familiar with toward the kitchen. Even though I’d seen quite a bit, I had the feeling I’d barely scratched the surface of all the square footage in this home. Knowing how big the house looked from the outside, I knew there was so much more. From my trip in the car down the driveway, for instance, I could tell there were three stories, maybe more, and I hadn’t even seen the entire ground level.

  I only hoped a bathroom would be easy to find.

  It was almost spooky how quiet the house sounded. It didn’t help that my heels clicked on the hardwood floor in the kitchen, making me want to put the pressure of my steps on the front of my feet to silence the sound. Instead, I walked quickly until I reached the swinging door. But there was a closed door in the kitchen that I couldn’t resist.

  Maybe it
was a bathroom—and that would be my excuse if anyone snuck up on me, asking what I thought I was doing.

  But I peeked in and saw that it was nothing more than a pantry full of serving dishes and cleaning products, what I learned later was a room called a butler’s pantry. Beyond that was another doorway, so I flipped on the light switch. In the other small room beyond was yet another small closet full of nonperishable food.

  Turning off the light before closing the door, I turned and pushed against the swinging door, ready to see more of this palatial home. What I noticed first was the ornate chandelier in the dining room that nearly took my breath away. It was crystal and gold, sparkling just from the light coming through the large window to the north. And the elegant dining table and chairs that appeared to be made from the same wood as Mr. Steel’s desk couldn’t steal the show. The one window in the room was large, allowing plenty of light to spill in, bathing the space in cleansing rays. The hardwood floor’s polish was subtle, and I took care to tiptoe through the space.

  There was only one other door in this room as well, so I walked around the table and through, not knowing what to expect. But, in the next room, everything opened up. It was what I’d call a living room or, possibly, a sitting room. The space was massive and here there were multiple doorways—and stairs to boot. Two sofas and two overstuffed chairs surrounded a low wooden table. Underneath it all was a large area rug that, due to its subtle colors, was hard to notice. There was what appeared to be a large wardrobe on one side of the room and several pieces of art on another—but I suspected the door beside the corner near the stairway might be a bathroom, so I had to investigate.

  Opening the door, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this home anymore, but I was relieved to discover my guess was right. The design of the room almost didn’t match the rest of the house, save for the same beiges, browns, and whites, in addition to the soft brown stone floor and wooden accents. The mirror, however, was striking. It took up the top half of one wall and it was carved out as if it were flames from a roaring fire and, over the toilet, the wall peeked through like a chasm in the mirror, so that the glass was actually two distinct, curvy pieces hanging on the wall. It in itself was art.