Christmas Baby For The Princess. Barbara Wallace
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A cashmere coat, and she was staying at a rat hole like the Dunphy? New to the country or not, the two did not go together. Women as beautiful as her stayed in five-star suites and not alone. They didn’t apply for temporary waitress positions.
“You notice the haircut?” Darius asked, returning with the water.
Yeah, Max had noticed. Right after he noticed the coat. A total home job, and not a very good one at that. “She’s trying to hide from someone.”
“If she’s thinking that hair will help her blend in, she’s crazy.”
It wasn’t just her haircut that attracted attention. It was the whole package. “If she wore it up, it’d look okay.” Even if it didn’t, most people would be too distracted by the rest of her to notice.
“Don’t tell me you’re considering her.”
“Something tells me she’s in a tough spot.”
“Great. Another one of your lost puppies.” If his friend rolled his eyes any further, they would see the inside of his head. “Didn’t you learn anything from what happened with Shirley? You can’t save the whole world, you know.”
“I never said I wanted to save the whole world.” The few desperate souls who crossed his path, is all. And just because some, like his former piano player, chose not to be saved, was no reason to stop. It was definitely not a reason in this case.
He lowered his voice in case Arianna happened to come back. “She’s staying at the Dunphy.”
Darius whistled.
“Exactly.” If that wasn’t enough of a red flag, there was desperation in her eyes. An anxious shadow that said things weren’t as she pretended. Max knew that shadow well. He had seen it in his mother’s eyes all her life. Okay, so maybe Arianna wasn’t running away from an abusive bastard like his father. But she was running away from something. And there was no way in hell he was turning a desperate woman out in the street. His mother’s eyes haunted him enough; he didn’t have to add a second pair.
“Besides,” he said, shaking off the ghosts, “you’ve got to admit, she would look amazing in the uniform.”
“Maybe, but can she wait tables? All you did this morning was jaw my ear off about how hard it is to find decent help. Do you really want to take the risk? Christmastime is crazy.”
“I thought it was the time for goodwill toward men.”
“Very funny.” A soft cough cut off whatever else Darius was going to say. Arianna had returned to the table. Despite shaking and being white as a sheet, she still managed to look gorgeous and self-possessed. Max felt the stirring of attraction deep in his belly.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
Her nod was as wobbly as her legs. “Fine. That is, I was feeling light-headed, but I’m much better now.”
She was a horrible liar. Better would mean color in her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she said, noticing the water.
“No problem. Figured you wouldn’t be looking for the tea.” His coffee had long since grown cold, but he drank it anyway. Wasn’t the first time—wouldn’t be the last. “So,” he said, from over the rim, “you were telling me about where you used to work.”
Her eyes immediately dropped to her glass. “Right. Where I worked. The thing is...”
“It was a long time ago?” he suggested.
“Exactly.” She grabbed the excuse like a lifeline, gratitude in her voice. “I’m not sure they would remember me.”
Max sat back and took a good look at her, trying to think like the businessman he was. Ten to one, the only experience she had waitressing involved leaving a tip. Darius was right: he had no business offering her a job.
But then he saw how hard she was struggling to keep her composure and his conscience beat down his common sense.
“That’s all right,” he said, “I’ll take your word for it. Do you think you will feel well enough to start tomorrow night?”
Her eyes widened. “I have the job?”
In a flash, Max understood how every private eye in every mystery movie fell prey to the femme fatale. The way her face lit up was absolutely criminal. He smoothed his tie and did his best to hide his reaction. “You did say you wanted it, didn’t you?”
“I did. I mean, I do.” She leaned forward, the subtle scent of high-end perfume accompanying her. “Thank you so much,” she said, clasping his hands. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Definitely criminal. Reluctantly, he disentangled himself from her grasp and stood up. “Darius will go over everything you need to know, including where to get your uniform. Welcome to the Fox Club family, Miss Santoro.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Darius shaking his head. Honestly, sometimes his friend was too much the glass-half-empty kind of guy. They were helping a gorgeous woman out of a tight spot, is all. What was the worst that could happen?
SHE WAS THE worst waitress he’d ever seen. Quite possibly, the worst waitress on the planet.
“I tried to tell you,” Darius said, sliding Max a cup of coffee. “But you and your white-knight complex wouldn’t listen.”
Biting back the retort he wanted to give, Max forced his features to remain expressionless. “She’s a bit rusty, I’ll give you that.”
“Rusty? The past two nights she’s dropped three trays. Not to mention all the orders she’s messed up. Lorenzo and his staff are annoyed—they’re threatening to refuse any order she puts in.”
“Yeah, well, Lorenzo better think twice about that, considering I’m about to drop a small fortune upgrading the kitchen.”
“It’s not just Lorenzo. Darlene and the other waitresses are annoyed, too. Apparently she keeps disappearing into the employees’ lounge during her shift.”
So Max had noticed. In fact, he’d been paying quite a lot of attention to his newest employee the past two days. Enough to realize it wasn’t only his desire to help that had made him hire her. She looked breathtaking in the waitress costume. He’d personally ordered the dress after seeing a photograph of Grace Kelly wearing something similar, the idea being that his waitresses would be smoldering but classy. On Arianna, the concept took on a whole new meaning. Every man in the room had to be cursing how the neckline didn’t dip low enough to reveal anything more than bare shoulders and a hint of cleavage. Max certainly was.
She’d fixed her hair, too. Pulled it into some fancy twist that showed off a long, graceful neck. Max had dated his share of women—beautiful women—but none as enticing as his new waitress. As a rule, he didn’t get involved with the help—made for an awkward work environment when he moved on—but with Arianna,