“Mr. Devlin is currently in a meeting,” Angie explained. “The calls are routed to me whenever he’s unavailable to take them.”
“Huh. Most hotshot billionaires I know just use voice mail.”
The comment gave Angie pause. The caller sounded more like a teenager than a grown woman. How many hotshot billionaires did the average teenager know? “I guess you could say I’m Mr. Devlin’s voice mail. Beep.” Not very professional, but something about the caller brought out the imp in Angie.
Sure enough, the girl chuckled. “Okay, fine. This is Jett. I’m working with Pretorius St. John on a top secret program for your boss man.” The information had Angie nudging Jett’s age a little higher, though she still sounded more like a teen than twenty-something. “You in the know about it or should I aim for enigmatic?”
Angie hesitated and Mikey chose that moment to smack her with the washcloth. And that’s when two bounced against two and exploded into a huge glittering four. Her gaze fastened on Lucius’s office door and she replayed that long-ago scene with Ella in her head.
“I don’t know how you could possibly think I’d be interested in your insane proposal.” And what had Lucius said afterward? She flipped through her memories from that day and keyed in on the one she needed. That he’d proposed to Ella after only knowing her for two weeks. “I made a business proposition that involved marriage and for some reason that ticked her off. Go figure.” And then a little later Angie had told him, “I have several calls from a Pretorius St. John. He indicated it was a private matter. Something about a computer program he was personalizing for you.”
She shook her head in disbelief. No. No, it wasn’t possible. A wife? Was that what the parade of women over the past three months had been about? Why he’d proposed to Ella after just two short weeks? Not even a man as determined and ruthless as The Devil Devlin would implement such an outrageous plan…would he? Angie fought to gather her thoughts into a coherent whole, keenly aware her caller was waiting for her response.
Maybe if she asked a few careful questions, she’d be able to confirm or refute her suspicions. Preferably refute them. “Is this about the program Mr. St. John is fine-tuning for Lucius?” she asked cautiously.
“Yup.”
Angie closed her eyes, struggling to control her breathing, struggling even harder to keep her voice level and matter-of-fact. Please be wrong. Please, please be wrong. Because if she wasn’t, she couldn’t keep her job. Wouldn’t. Not if Lucius married. Not when she loved him. She refused to stay in a job where every day would be an exercise in sheer torture.
“This program…” She trailed off, steeling herself to ask the unthinkable. “It’s the one to help him find a…a wife?”
“Okay, so you’re in the know. Guess you’d have to be, considering that’s how he picked you. See, here’s the problem—”
“Wait,” Angie ordered. This just got more and more bizarre. “Back up. He used this same program to hire a PA? To hire me?”
“Well, sure. That’s what the Pretorius Program was originally designed for. To help people like Mr. Devlin hire top-notch assistants. Or apprentices. But then when Justice wanted an apprentice/wife, Pretorius tweaked it a bit.”
“Apprentice…wife?” Was she joking?
“Yeah, it was a bit weird, but it all worked out in the end. Now Uncle P.’s got this side business going. Too busy to find a wife on your own? Let our program find her for you. So we’ve been on the lookout for a wife for Mr. Devlin for the past three months. Heck, we’d even be happy if we could find him an apprentice/wife.” A frustrated sigh issued through the earpiece. “But unlike most of our clients, he’s proving sort of tough to satisfy. We’ve selected tons of women for him, but for some reason none of them are right. Just between us girls, I’m beginning to think it’s him. Know what I mean? Every time we turn around he’s changing the parameters on us.”
Angie’s gaze darted to the closed office door again. The murmur of voices from inside continued, unabated. “What, exactly, are his current parameters?”
“Oh, not that much.” Deep sarcasm refuted her words. “He wants a mother for Mikey, that’s number one on his list. You’d think that would be good enough, right?”
“Right?”
“Wrong, girlfriend.” She practically sang the words. “He also wants someone who’s a top-notch cook and can entertain both clients and friends on a large scale. You know, throw a five-star party complete with gourmet food and a Vegas-worthy show with only two minutes’ warning.” Papers rustled and Angie could tell Jett was reading from a form. “He also wants someone classy, who can maintain an elegant home. Not sure if she’s supposed to decorate it, too. That’s one of my questions. She has to be intelligent. Attractive. And there’s other stuff that Pretorius blanked out, which probably has to do with sex.”