Training the Help [Hedon Falls 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (2 page)

The sheepish little grin returned. “I had a copy,” he said. “I knew you didn’t really want me to give it back to you. You’re going to want me back.”

Sophie snorted. “Newsflash, Tony—when a girl asks for her key back, she wants her key back. It. Is. Over. For good,” she added. “Now give me the copy and get out.”

Tony walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t really mean that,” he cajoled. He ran a hand down her arm and slid it around her waist. “We had a good thing going.”

Sophie managed to slide out of his grasp and head toward the door. “You sound ridiculous!” she sneered. “If we had such a good thing you wouldn’t have needed to pick up strange chicks in bars! Don’t blame me for this when you couldn’t keep your little dick in your pants!” She was shouting now.

Tony’s eyes blazed and he strode toward her until she was backed up against the wall. He grabbed her chin tightly and held her so she couldn’t turn her head. “My dick is the best you’ve had,” he growled at her. “It’s the best you’ll ever have. Who the hell else would want a bitch like you?”

Sophie struggled against his grasp but he was so much bigger than her that she was able to do very little good. So she stopped and went limp. Taking this as a sign that she was relenting, Tony released her chin and moved to put his arms around her. Sophie ducked down so his arms closed on empty space and she moved out from between him and the wall.

“Get out of here, Tony!” she cried. “Just stay the fuck away from me!”

He whirled around and, as he turned, his elbow caught her on the cheek just below her eye. Sophie reeled away and lost her balance. She fell backward and her head hit the door frame. And everything went black.

* * * *

Tony stared down at the woman who now lay unconscious on the floor.
Stupid bitch
. He hadn’t meant to hit her. Not this time, anyway. When he hit her while they were dating, it was only because she was acting like a selfish brat. He had needed to remind her who was in charge. Although when she had come home to find him fucking that chick he picked up, she had stood her ground and kicked him out. Even the back of his hand on her face hadn’t convinced her.

He had fucked up and he knew it. He could admit that. He wasn’t as unreasonable as Sophie thought he was. And he wanted her back. He had tried being with other women, but none of them did it for him the way Sophie did. He groaned as he remembered how it felt to slide his cock into her, and instantly, he was hard. He rubbed his crotch a bit and looked down at her again. It would be easy to just carry her into the bedroom and screw her right now. But as much as he wanted her, he would rather she was awake. He bent over and satisfied himself with a quick squeeze of her tits before walking out the door.

Sophie woke to a cool sensation against her face. She couldn’t remember where she was at first. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring at the ceiling of her apartment. She frowned and winced at a pain in her cheek. She could feel something resting there and when she reached up she felt a small, cold object. Lifting it, she saw it was a gel ice pack. She turned her head and saw an older woman sitting in a chair at her kitchen table.

“Mrs. Ellerton?” Sophie asked.

The older woman glanced over and smiled at her. She came to take Sophie’s hand and helped her to a sitting position. “Don’t try to stand yet,” she said to Sophie. “I don’t want you passing out again.”

“What happened?” Sophie asked. “I think…I was… Someone was here…”

“I got home from my grocery shopping and your door was open,” Mrs. Ellerton explained. “When I walked past I could see you lying on the floor. You’ve got a bruise on your cheek and you were sort of at a funny angle. I couldn’t move you so I put the ice pack on your face for the swelling. Mr. Ellerton went to get the superintendent.”

Sophie nodded. Now that she was sitting up, the back of her head was pounding. She reached up and gingerly touched the spot on her head, sucking in a breath when her fingers made contact with a lump under her hair.

“Did you hit the back of your head, too?” Mrs. Ellerton asked. She took the ice pack and moved it to the back of Sophie’s head. The cool sensation helped and Sophie closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember.

“Tony,” she said at last. “Tony was here.”

“Your old boyfriend?” Mrs. Ellerton gasped. “Did he do this to you?”

Sophie tried to remember and then shook her head. “I think it was an accident. He turned and his elbow hit my face because I was right behind him.”

Mrs. Ellerton’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I see,” she said. “So he knocked you over and then left you lying on the floor, unconscious.”

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds really bad,” Sophie responded. “He didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Stop defending him, dear,” Mrs. Ellerton said. “It doesn’t matter if he hit you intentionally, he shouldn’t have walked out when you were hurt!” She shook her head. “What was he doing here anyway?”

Sophie sighed. “He wanted me to take him back,” she replied. “He just doesn’t understand that it’s over. He still had a copy of the key.”

Just then, Mr. Ellerton and the superintendent, Mr. Singh, arrived. When he saw Sophie, Mr. Singh asked, “Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Sophie assured him that she was feeling all right. “I think I need to have my locks changed, though,” she said and explained the situation. Mr. Singh nodded and left to get his tools.

After the locks had been changed and Mr. and Mrs. Ellerton were satisfied that Sophie was fine, she was finally alone again in her apartment. Too exhausted to do anything else, she tumbled into bed and fell asleep.

* * * *

Monday afternoon, Sophie entered the lobby of the Hilton Hotel ten minutes before four o’clock. After inquiring at the desk, she was directed to a meeting room on the first floor. In the hall was a line of women waiting with resumes. Sophie joined them and stood, shifting from one foot to the other or occasionally tapping her toes. She hadn’t realized there would be so many people here. She eyed the others covertly, trying to size up the competition. Not that she could really tell anything about them. It’s not like they had their resumes stamped on their faces. Several more women joined the line behind her and Sophie gave them a small smile before she lowered her gaze to the floor and began counting the squares in the carpet pattern in an effort to keep her nerves in check.

At exactly four o’clock, two women emerged from the room. One began at the front and the other moved to the end of the line. They asked to see the resumes of the people waiting in line. Sophie watched as they glanced over the pages. With some, they nodded and hung on to the resume. For others, they handed the resume back and pointed back down the hall toward the foyer. Those women left quickly with dejected looks on their faces. Sophie realized they were screening the applicants.

Finally one of the women reached Sophie and took the resume from her. “I see you worked in housekeeping at the North Shore Hotel,” she said. “That’s good. Do you have a driver’s license?” Sophie nodded. The woman gestured for Sophie to move up the dwindling line and then moved on to the next candidate. She was encouraged that she had made it past the initial stage. Once the field had been narrowed, the applicants were called into the room one at a time. Some of the interviews seemed to last a long time, while others were very brief. Sophie shuffled from foot to foot, her legs aching from standing for so long.

At last it was her turn and she was shown into the room. Seated in two armchairs at the far end of the room were a man and a woman. As Sophie approached, she felt a jolt of recognition. The woman was a petite blond with flawless hair and makeup. Her legs were crossed elegantly at the ankle and she looked up at Sophie with large blue eyes. Without rising, the woman gestured at an empty chair in front of her.

Sophie sat, gracefully, she hoped, in the chair and folded her hands in her lap. She was trying to figure out where she recognized the woman from. She was reasonably sure that they didn’t move in the same social circles, and yet, there was something so familiar about her. Sophie was staring at the tiny blonde so intently that she didn’t hear the man talking to her.

“Sophie!” he said sharply.

Sophie started and turned toward him, a flush creeping up her neck and face. “I’m sorry, sir,” she murmured. “I just feel like I know your wife from somewhere.”

The woman laughed. It was a deep, throaty chuckle that made Sophie’s stomach tighten in an unfamiliar way. “I get that a lot,” she said in a sexy purr. “My name is Kendra Hughes Sullivan.”

Sophie smacked her forehead. “I am so dumb!” she exclaimed. “I should have known right from the start! I’m such a fan, Mrs. Sullivan!” In her head Sophie was mortified at the stupid fan-girl gushing that she couldn’t seem to stop. Sitting in front of her was one of Canada’s most famous exports. Kendra Hughes. She had starred opposite some of the top actors in Hollywood, though she preferred to work out of her native country as much as possible.

“Well, when it’s out of context, sometimes the recognition doesn’t come right away,” Kendra said. “I’d rather you didn’t worry about that. Right now we just want to know about you.”

“Oh, sure,” said Sophie. “Ask away!”

“Your resume lists five years’ housekeeping experience,” Mr. Sullivan began. “That would suggest you are capable in that department. How are your cooking skills?”

Sophie took a moment to think, and then said, “I have always enjoyed cooking even though I don’t have any work experience. I like to try out new recipes and I can plan out menus. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of chance to cook for more than just myself and I would love the opportunity to refine those skills.”

Mr. Sullivan nodded. “Of course, with my wife being who she is, we would require you to be extremely discreet,” he said. “We would rather not see private information appearing on TMZ or the like. Nor would we want paparazzi showing up at our home.”

“I can’t imagine how hard it is to have people poking around into your personal lives,” Sophie said. “But you can be sure that I would hold your privacy in very high regard.”

“Our home is quite large,” Kendra said. “And one or both of us are frequently away. Are you okay with staying there by yourself? We have a minimal staff and only the housekeeper lives on the property.”

“I’m quite used to being on my own,” Sophie told her. “I think it would be nice to not have to worry about noisy neighbors or traffic.”

They asked more questions, and Sophie answered them to the best of her ability, feeling that things were going well. For a movie star, Kendra was very easy to talk to. Mr. Sullivan had a quiet, commanding voice, and Sophie found herself hoping that they would like her enough to offer her the job.

“Very well, Miss LaPlante,” Mr. Sullivan said finally as he stood. Sophie got to her feet as well. “I think those are all the questions we have right now. We’ll be in touch.” He held out his hand to shake hers.

Sophie hesitated. She hadn’t thought about how they would contact her with her phone not in service.

“Is something wrong?” Kendra asked her with concern.

“Well,” Sophie began. “I was laid off when the hotel closed, and I’ve been unemployed for several months and having difficulty with my bills.” She took a deep breath and blinked as she felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes. “I’m ashamed to say that my phone service has been disconnected. There isn’t any way for you to contact me,” she whispered.

Kendra stood and slid her arm around Sophie’s waist. “Oh, honey! That’s terrible!” she soothed. “I know what it’s like when there hasn’t been a job for a while and you’re down to the end of your rope.”

Sophie stared down at the ground, her face burning with embarrassment. It was irrational, she knew. She hadn’t been irresponsible with her money. There just hadn’t been enough coming in.

“Tell you what,” Kendra said. “Why don’t you wait out in the hotel lobby? We’ll make a decision today and come talk to you after we finish with the others.”

Sophie nodded. “That is very generous, Mrs. Sullivan,” she said. “I would appreciate that.”

“It isn’t a problem! And please, call me Kendra,” she said. “Now go on out there and we’ll be out to see you in a little while.”

“Thank you, Kendra,” Sophie murmured and turned to walk quickly out the door. She fought hard to keep the tears from falling. The last thing she needed was to fall to pieces right here. Without paying much attention to where she was going, Sophie found herself back in the foyer. She glanced around and spotted a plush chair off to the side of a large fireplace. There wasn’t anyone else sitting nearby so she made her way over and sank down into the comfortable depths.

She had been staring blankly at the fire for a few minutes when a voice nearby said, “Excuse me, miss.”

Sophie looked up to see a man in a suit standing before her. He had a hotel name tag pinned to his lapel. “Yes?” she responded.

He held out a folded menu to her. “Mrs. Sullivan asked me to tell you that she will be a little while longer and to please go ahead and order something to eat,” he said.

“Oh!” Sophie said, startled. “I don’t think that I—”

“Mrs. Sullivan was quite insistent,” he responded. “We can bring the food to you here or if you would prefer to come to the dining room, we can arrange that, as well.”