All business, he’s latched his fingers together before his black dress shirt, the picture of intimidation.
Naturally, I blurt, “Isn’t this too much?”
He blinks.
“Eleven days PTO is standard, and this health insurance—it’splatinum. Wouldn’t that be, like, seven thousand dollars a month? The sign-on bonus is outrageous, and you never even mentioned it before now! Isn’t that the sort of thing you mention to someone when you’re trying to convince them to take on a job?”
His fingers unlace. “It wasn’t my intention to coerce you into working for me, Peters, but if you do, I will take care of you the same way I take care of anyone who works in such close quarters with me. That’s given.”
That’s given? Is it? I was not aware.
My lips part, but for the first time since I started rambling this afternoon, I am at a loss for words. Until, of course, the unfiltered truth spills free. “I’d be an idiot to turn this down.”
His gaze shifts off me. “Possibly.”
“Are you sure I’m qualified enough for what you’re looking for?”
“I’m growing more sure by the minute,” he murmurs.
Well. All righty then.
Setting the papers back on the coffee table, I stand and offer him my hand. “If I do something wrong, please tell me promptly and explain how I can correct it. I am willing to learn, and I’d rather my errors be fixed swiftly so I can do better in the future.”
His gray eyes slip up to my face, then skate down my body to my hand. As he stands to tower above me, his eyelids lower. Warm and large, his fingers wrap around mine. “Would you like that term added to the paperwork before we sign?”
Yes, very much so, actually.
I whisper, “Is that a normal thing to do?”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Fair enough. I say, “Yes, I would.”
He shakes my hand. “Consider it done. Will you be available tomorrow to sign and ready in two weeks to start?”
Available tomorrow…
Hand still stuck in the cage of his, I finagle to get my phone out so I can check my calendar. “I have a free block at three between two client households.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you here then.”
“Okay.” I pocket my phone in my apron.
“Okay,” he echoes.
Still trapped by his grip, I blink and stare up at him.
Realization crosses his face, and his fingers unlock to land themselves tucked in the pocket of his dress pants. “Until tomorrow, Peters.”
Until tomorrow? I still haven’t done my job for today.
Retrieving my phone again, I check it for the time, learn that I am approaching my next job, and wince. I used my entire cleaning slot for this place jabbering about the position to clean this place. How very, dreadfully professional of me…
Not.
Oh, the irony.
“Mr. Anders, it seems I’ve missed the opportunity to clean at the designated time today. I have another house to get to now, but is there any chance you wouldn’t mind my rectifying the situation tonight, at six?”
