a task which had proven to be much more difficult than he’d assumed, mostly because he simply hadn’t liked any of the women he’d interviewed for the position.
It was silly, really, given he wouldn’t have to have anything much to do with the woman on a personal basis. His brief to the various employment agencies was for his housekeeper to work only during the week, not at the weekends. She was to come in after he left for work every weekday morning, and be gone by the time he arrived home, which often wasn’t until quite late. Producing and hosting Australia at Noon consumed every minute of every weekday from morning until late afternoon.
So it shouldn’t really matter whether he liked his housekeeper or not.
But he couldn’t stomach the thought of someone he didn’t like in his personal space when he wasn’t there.
The main problem was that every woman he’d interviewed so far had been a big fan of his show. Not a crime, admittedly. But irritating. They had all been way too gushy. And way too eager.
Jake was suspicious of eager, especially when it came to women. A flaw, he supposed, common with confirmed bachelors. Still, he kept picturing them putting things about their wonderful new job and their wonderful new boss on all the social media sites they would invariably be on, complete with photos.
The upshot was he hadn’t hired any of them, and was instead waiting for another candidate to arrive, sent out by Housewives For Hire, a newish employment agency, the owner of which had fortuitously appeared on a segment of his show a few days ago.
Her agency promised to provide exactly the sort of employee he was looking for. Apparently, the women on their books were mostly housewives themselves, wanting to earn extra money whilst their children were at school.
He’d rung the lady who owned the agency the other night—her name was Barbara—explaining what kind of housekeeper he needed. He’d asked her to find him someone suitable, preferably a woman who didn’t obsessively watch his show and think he was God’s gift to women.
She’d promised to find him the right person.
So here he was, sitting in his study at five to two on a Saturday afternoon, waiting to interview Barbara’s top recommendation, but thinking to himself he was possibly wasting his time again.
This woman Barbara was sending him was way too young for starters. Only twenty-six. And a widow no less. How on earth had that happened?
Barbara hadn’t said and he hadn’t liked to ask.
Jake sighed. A car accident, he supposed. Or an illness of some kind.
At least she didn’t have children. Nothing sadder than a young widow trying to raise children alone. Nothing tougher, either.
This young woman—her name was Abby Jenkins—was apparently looking for work and wasn’t qualified for much, her very short CV showing she had left high school at seventeen to work in a fish and chip shop till she’d married at twenty, shortly after which she’d left to become a stay-at-home housewife.
A strange choice for a modern young woman. Rather old-fashioned, in Jake’s opinion. Made her sound a little odd. He didn’t fancy employing odd.
But he would give her a chance. Everyone deserved a chance.
He heard a car pull up outside. A glance at his watch showed it was right on two. She was punctual at least.
Jake stood up and made his way from the study to the front door, arriving in time to unlock the deadbolt just as the doorbell rang. He took a deep breath and opened the door, not sure what to expect.
His breath caught at the sight of a very pretty blonde whose lovely green eyes were looking up at him with a decidedly worried expression. No, not worried. Nervous. The girl was terribly nervous, chewing at her bottom lip and clutching the strap of her black shoulder bag as if it were a lifeline.
He supposed it was only natural that she’d be nervous. Barbara had mentioned that this was the girl’s first job interview for her agency. Possibly it was her first job interview ever.
Jake’s eyes flicked over the rest of her appearance.
She was wearing dark blue jeans and a cream crocheted top, their snug fit showing a very good figure. Her honey-blonde hair was long and straight, pulled back into a low ponytail. She wasn’t wearing make-up, not even lipstick. It pleased Jake that she hadn’t dolled herself up like some of the other women he’d interviewed.
‘Mr Sanderson?’ she asked hesitantly.
Jake’s eyebrows rose at the realisation that she didn’t recognise him. Which meant she hadn’t ever watched his show, or any of the documentaries he’d made over the years.
He didn’t know whether to be happy or hurt, which was ironic.
Either way, it was still a positive factor. He definitely didn’t want a housekeeper who was a fan.
‘Yes, that’s me,’ he replied, willing now to overlook the fact that she was not only way too young but way too pretty. Jake reasoned that if he hired her, he wouldn’t be around her on a daily basis so he wouldn’t be in danger of being tempted by her very attractive package. Because, to be honest, it would be seriously hard to ignore those eyes. And that mouth.
Jake dragged his gaze away from it before his mind wandered into R-rated territory.
‘And you must be Abby,’ he said, smiling a little stiffly.
She smiled back. Not a big smile. A small one. But it showed lovely white teeth behind those luscious lips.
‘Yes,’ she said simply, then added in a rush, ‘it’s very good of you to give me an interview.’
‘Barbara recommended you highly,’ he said.
She seemed startled. ‘She did?’
‘Indeed, she did. Said she’d dropped in unexpectedly at your home before she signed you up and it was immaculate.’
A soft blush pinked her cheeks. Lord, but she was sweet as well as pretty. Jake liked pretty women, but he wasn’t usually attracted to sweet.
Till now…
‘I like to keep things nice and neat,’ she said.
‘Same here,’ he said rather brusquely. ‘Come in and we’ll talk some more.’
‘Oh. Right. Yes.’ But she didn’t move, her lovely eyes wide and unblinking.
Maybe he’d frightened her with his brusqueness. Jake could be very charming, when he chose to be. But he could also be intimidating.
Very charming was definitely not on. But intimidating was not nice either. Best stick to businesslike.
‘Perhaps I should give you a tour of the house first,’ Jake suggested matter-of-factly, stepping back and waving her inside. ‘Show you what you’ll be letting yourself in for. You might not want the job, even if I offer it to you.’
‘I’m sure I will, Mr Sanderson,’ she said and made her way past him into the hallway, where she
