First message
She drove to his mansion in New York.
They had spent exactly one night together months ago. Before leaving, Charles had told her to find him if she ever needed help. He had been drunk. She hadn’t forgotten.
The problem was growing inside her now. Three months. Three months of avoiding questions and decisions.
She knocked.
After a moment the door opened.
A blonde woman stood there dressed like she belonged on a runway instead of inside a house at ten in the morning.
“Are you here for the interview?” she asked with a polished smile. “I’m Mrs. Catherine Garner. We’ve been looking for a new housekeeper for two months.”
Mrs. Catherine Garner. Her stomach tightened. Of course he was married.
“Actually, yes,” she lied with a polite smile. “I’m here for the interview.”
Catherine stepped aside and let her in.
Charles was sitting in the living room. He looked up. Recognition flashed instantly across his face. He knew exactly who she was.
Neither of them acknowledged it.
“Good morning, Mr. Garner,” she said in a perfectly professional tone.
Charles studied her for a second too long before leaning back in his chair.
“Please, have a seat, Miss…”
This conversation had become far more complicated than she expected.