Lydia's Twin Temptation(Divine Creek Ranch 8)(49)
Lydia thought about calling Clayton and asking him if he might be able to get a refund from House Bunnies “R” Us. There was the distinct possibility this gal was going to break a nail.
Lydia’s greeting came out sounding like a gasp. “Hi.”
The beautiful young woman blinded her with brilliantly white teeth when she smiled. “Hey!” The way she drew out the word made it sound like it had three or four high-pitched syllables. “I’m Presley Ann Woodworth. I’m here to help out.” Lydia backed up, and Presley Ann stepped in, looking around appreciatively. “So this is the Rockin’ C Ranch.”
Presley Ann walked in as if she were assessing the interior for a new design. “Please come with me, Presley Ann, so we can talk about what I’ll need for you to do.”
“Sure.”
Presley Ann followed Lydia into the kitchen, her five-inch Jimmy Choos clicking daintily with each step. “Have a seat.”
The young woman took a seat at the table in the breakfast nook and crossed her legs so her four-hundred-dollar shoes were displayed advantageously.
Lydia made eye contact with Presley Ann and said, “Tell me how you came to be involved with the agency that sent you here.”
“My aunt owns it.”
Great.
“Do you have any experience as a maid or housekeeper?”
“Um, no.” The way she said it, as if that fact should be obvious, made Lydia’s heart sink. “But I can handle anything you can throw at me. I guarantee it.”
Lydia doubted that. She needed the help though, and Presley Ann needed to know what was expected of her if she was going to stay on.
Lydia slid a list across the table. Presley Ann held the list in her freshly manicured fingers. She scanned the first page quickly, almost dismissively. She flipped to the next page and looked it over even quicker, and barely glanced at the third page at all.
Lydia said, “I’ve written up a schedule for us. We will be working in different areas of the house each day. I’ll need you to start work promptly every day at seven thirty—”
“Seven thirty! I was told I could start at nine-ish, like I did today.”
Lydia shook her head firmly. “I’m sorry. I need you to start every day at seven thirty.”
Presley Ann’s bottom lip pouted out a little, but Lydia said nothing and waited for her response. The lip must have worked for Presley Ann because she held out for a good fifteen seconds before caving in. “Oh, all right. Seven thirtyish.”
Lydia smiled and said, “If you want the job, you start every day on time at seven thirty. I’m sorry, this is not a party you can arrive to fashionably late. I need help that is reliable. If you can’t—”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll start at seven thirty every day. I want the job.”
Lydia didn’t understand why. Everything about Presley Ann reeked of entitlement and money. She looked as though she’d just come from a salon. She was wearing a tan silk top and matching linen pants. Her shoes looked pristine.
Lydia shook her head as though to clear it. “Let me just make sure that you and I are on the same page.” Because I feel like someone just yelled “action” on the set of The Twilight Zone. “Clayton Carlisle contacted an employment agency in Divine to send someone to help me. I need help cleaning and maintaining the house. They would dust, vacuum, do laundry, sweep floors, help with meal prep. Things like that.”
Presley Ann nodded. “Yes. That’s me. I’m your girl.”
Oh, Lord. Have mercy on me. “Okay. We’re running a bit late now, so let’s get started.”
“Can you show me my room so I can bring my things in? My car will get hot and I don’t want my cosmetics and things exposed to the heat.”
Lydia couldn’t help it when her eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry?”
Presley Ann smiled, and Lydia detected the barest hint of a condescending tone when Presley Ann said, “My room. The room I will be sleeping in.”
“I’m sorry Miss—”
“Woodworth.”
“Miss Woodworth. I think there has been a misunderstanding. I was led to believe you live in Divine.”
“I do.”
“No room has been prepared for you. We do not need live-in help. That was the understanding. You are to arrive every morning at seven thirty and leave at the time that you and I mutually agree on. You would not be living here.”
“No?” Presley Ann looked disappointed, and her tone was a little whiny. She sighed and slumped. “That’s not what I—all right. I’ll stay at my house and arrive here every morning at seven thirty.”
Lydia was impressed that the tenacious young woman had not given up already. Lydia could only assume she was doing her best to get some kind of toehold on the Rockin’ C Ranch. What her ultimate goal might be was of great concern to Lydia. There was no doubt she was tall, thin, and very beautiful. With no ring on her finger, Lydia suspected she was there prospecting for a husband.