Babysitting the Billionaire(5)
“Don’t go in his bedroom. Jeez, May. Just leave it by the door, there.” Sadie pointed past the kitchen area. Kurck had taken over a giant mahogany dining table and was pulling components out of his computer bag. May tried to ignore him as she walked through the dining area toward what looked to be a bathroom and bedroom.
He called after her. “There are two wings. I want to use the other one.”
Of course. She dragged his bag past him again on her way to the opposite bedroom/bathroom wing. She didn’t look at him so she wouldn’t have to see his grin. Pigheaded, too much money, stuffed shirt weasel.
Out of his line of sight, she sagged against the wall. Why was she reacting so strongly? And why, why was he here four days before the blasted party, if he wanted to be so secret? She was never going to get through this assignment.
Nonsense. Of course she would. Hadn’t she made it through Rhode Island School of Design without crying? Okay, without crying in public. And she had mad art skills, and people knew it. If she was no good as a babysitter, well, what of it? It wasn’t her job.
Sadie caught up to her. “May, this is your job. Get a grip.”
“You might be used to man-bitches, but this is new to me.”
“It is not, either.” Sadie sighed, exasperated. She would know; she reported directly to Edmondsson.
“What are we going to do?”
“Don’t worry.” Sadie was biting her lip. “I’m on it.”
“How?”
“One of the senator’s aides owes me a favor.” The way she said it made it sound dirty. The story was that Sadie used to be a Hill staffer, but left because of burnout. Or something worse.
“I’m sorry, Sadie. He really doesn’t even see me, but I will try to be more grovelly.”
“You don’t have to grovel, sweets. With that perfect China-doll face, all you have to do is stay quiet and they’ll assume you’re docile.”
“Laotian.”
“Whatever. Just keep an eye on him.”
“Wait. I don’t have to stay with him, do I? I was just going to leave him here.”
“Fine. But check in on him, and if he goes out, you go with him.”
“And at night?”
“He should stay in at night. No, really, from what I understand he’s going to want to work Finland hours, so he’ll need to be up at three o’clock or something. He won’t be going out.”
“Until he sees the senator.”
“Right.” Sadie set her ruby-red mouth, turned on her heel, and headed for the other bedroom. “Have to make some calls,” she said as she passed the living room. Kurck said nothing.
May tip-toed back into the living room past the man, who already had a recording studio’s pile of equipment set up on the table. She sank on one of the very plushy sofas.
“You’re staying?” He didn’t even turn his head.
“Do you promise to stay here until I come back?”
“When?”
“Seven.” She had to get back to work and finish that four-color brochure for the party.
“Five.”
“Five? The restaurants don’t open till five-thirty.”
“Five-thirty, then.”
She’d never be done by then. She’d have to go back and do more work after.
“Go ahead and sigh it out, little May in June.” He turned around and gave her one of those movie-star grins.
May loudly sighed out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She shuffled in her bag again, and stood up. On her way out, she dropped one of her personal cards on the desk, just outside his reach. “In case you need me sooner.”
****
The Darth Vader theme sounded in May’s dreams, and then she realized it was her phone.
Kurck. At one o’clock.
She pulled the phone closer and tapped it on. “Reed,” she said, trying to sound officious.
“Room service stops at midnight. Who ever heard of that?”
“What do you need?”
“Something. Muesli, granola, yogurt. Most of all, coffee. A gallon of it.” He sounded as rough as she felt. She was glad of it.
“There’s a coffee maker in your kitchen.”
“Those pods? That’s not coffee. You should have bought supplies. You knew I had to work. Get them.”
“What time is it?”
“Twelve forty-five. I have a conference call in fifteen minutes.”
“Vamp. I can’t be there before one-thirty.”
She didn’t realize a person could slam a cell phone. Hoping her hearing would return in that ear sometime soon, May lurched out of her bed. She’d left him at the damn hotel at seven, staring at his little screens like he had all though supper, but she hadn’t gone to bed until eleven. This was going to be a long, hard day.