Someone in mind

The elevator doors opened on the ninth floor, and Simon Salvatore stepped out with a scowl on his face, the stress evident in his strong, hurried steps toward his office.

He ignored everyone around him, especially his secretary, Cherry Martins. Not that it mattered; as soon as he passed through the door to his office, Cherry appeared with her agenda open in one hand and a pen in the other.

"I thought you weren't coming in today," she commented, pushing a copper-colored strand of hair behind her ear.

"You thought wrong," he replied, still feeling the effects of his headache. Not that he was kind to his mother's spy.

"Have you hired a housekeeper yet?"

He looked at his secretary irritably.

"You didn't even bother to interview them before sending them to my apartment, did you?"

"The agency I called said they would send the best according to your profile," Cherry defended herself, imagining that his bad mood that time had been due to the candidates. Not that he was kind to her.

"What profile?" Simon demanded, staring at her like a wolf about to attack a helpless animal.

Cherry tried to remember what she had said on the phone.

"Single; twenty-seven years old; successful businessman, president of the advertising company SaaTore, heir to the Salvatore companies..."

"Did you think of telling them how much money I have in the bank?" he grumbled, imagining that the agency's employees had lined up to meet him, thirsty for the opportunity to get their hands on his fortune.

"Would that have helped?" she asked with interest.

"Of course not!" he almost shouted, staring angrily into Martins's green eyes. "Next time, tell them about my personality, not my financial qualities."

Mentally, Cherry wondered how many people would agree to work for him when she described him as: rude, grumpy, and demanding to the limit. Probably none. Finally, she offered, "Can I call the agency and redo the profile?"

"It's not necessary; my mother has already chosen a housekeeper."

"Mrs. Mirela? Are you sure you don't want to redo the profile?"

"It's not necessary," he repeated with irritation.

Cherry wondered what Salvatore's interest was now. After all, she was hired by Mirela to report everything Simon did within the company he had set up with a friend about two years ago. Did she now want a spy in the apartment?

"Martins, did you hear anything I just said?" Simon asked, surprised that she had not left. She blinked quickly, looking confused. "I want headache pills," he repeated, the displeasure vibrating in his voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized, tense with the direction her thoughts had taken. "I'll be back in a second, sir."

Cherry hurried out of the office, almost colliding with the company's partner and director, Gabriel Saadi. She offered a quick apology to the tall, red-haired man and continued on her way.

"What did you do to the girl now?" Gabriel asked as he closed the door.

"Nothing. And I was tempted," he grumbled before sitting in his black leather swivel chair. "Can you believe she let them send several nymphomaniacs to my apartment?"

"With your history, you should be happy," Saadi joked, sitting across from Salvatore.

"My history is no different from yours, so tell me, would you be happy?"

"No," Gabriel fixed his green-water eyes on his friend. Simon looked like he was about to explode. "By the sound of it, it was really bad."

"Worse. If I'd known it would be like this, I would have left it in my mother's hands again."

"Mirela?! Did you let her hire someone to work for you again?" Gabriel looked at him with a small disbelieving smile. "You're always complaining about having to deal with Cherry, and you're doing it again?"

"Cherry is an efficient secretary, even while helping my mother keep track of my every move."

"And what's her name?"

"I don't know. She said she knew the right person and left before I could ask for names."

"At least you know when you'll meet your future housekeeper."

"Tonight."

"If I were you, I'd call and demand a name. You never know what kind of person is 'right' in Mirela Salvatore's mind. Besides, what was she doing in your apartment today?"

"Cherry probably informed her."

"In that case, I think Mirela already had someone in mind for the job."

"Really?"

Simon felt a chill down his spine. He had suspected that Mirela had more daring plans than just providing him with a suitable housekeeper, but hearing someone else say it made everything worse. Not that his mother would make a bad choice... he hoped she wouldn't.