Chapter 2
Darren
Darren set the phone down on the counter and let out an angry growl. Why women were so sensitive was beyond him. How many female chefs had he gone through at the restaurant before he finally found two or three who could take constructive criticism and do something with it? He wasn't an ass. He was simply offering suggestions that could enhance their performance.
The maid service he'd hired to help him keep his large rental property clean and ready for unexpected guests or investors had failed him yet again. They had one more chance to impress him with the new girl they were sending over. If she didn't work out, he was moving on to another service provider.
The last three woman had been good at what they did, but not great. Not over the top. He expected to see pride in their work, but found little to none.
His phone buzzed, and he half expected it to be the woman from the maid service again. Something about her voice gave him pause. He could hear her desire to want to give him a solution, but perhaps in his angst, he'd jumped ahead and demanded one instead of simply letting her speak.
"What?" he barked into the phone, not caring who it was.
"Someone's a little unpleasant this morning." Jaquez, Darren's younger brother, chuckled.
"Yes. Once again, it would seem that I ran off the maid who was working for me."
"Wow. That's got to be a record somewhere. Isn't this like three or four in the last month?"
"Four in the last two weeks. If you have a point, get to it. I need to meet with the replacement girl and then get up to the restaurant. What do you want?"
Jaquez chuckled again. "I'm so damn glad I'm not a maid in your house. I'd put fire ants in your underwear drawer."
"Funny. I'm hanging up."
"Not yet. I wanted to touch base with you on coming in for a visit later this summer. How long are you going to be in Massachusetts?"
Darren sat down at the breakfast nook in front of him and reached out for the new menu he'd been working on with some of his chefs.
"Probably for the next two months, then I'm headed back to Italy. I'm not interested in staying here long-term, and I have the key players set up in the restaurant. We're just working to finalize everything for opening day." His gaze moved across the various offerings they'd worked up, but he felt like something was missing.
He always felt like something was missing. His passion to cook and create had always burned bright inside of him, but over the last few years of opening restaurant after restaurant, he was burning out quickly.
"Good. I'll come visit in a month or so then."
"Fine. Anything else?"
"Yes. Be nice to this new girl. She might end up being the woman of your dreams."
Darren huffed. "A maid? Is that a joke?"
"Have you seen the outfits some of those girls wear? I'd marry one who promised to dress up in a black and white skirt and fluff my stuff any day."
Although Darren hated to admit it, the idea of a beautiful woman, bent over in a short skirt as she worked for him, left his heart palpitating fast. He hadn't been with anyone in the last six months because of the time strain he'd put on himself. The goal was to open a new restaurant every year during his thirties and he was two years into it and exhausted.
The smile that touched his lips disappeared as reality set in. He didn't have a snowball’s chance in hell of focusing on a relationship and wouldn't for a long time, but maybe a fling would be nice.
His brother's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Did I lose you?"
"No. I'm just reviewing a menu." He ran his fingers through his dark hair and closed his eyes. "I'm not looking for a sexy maid or a woman at all. I'm too busy for that."
"What are you looking for then?"
"I'm looking for a maid service that has employees who can follow directions. In my own business, I've made my way to the top by creating a structure that makes sense and is proven. If no one follows it, then my success would collapse quickly. This woman who owns the maid service needs to understand that. Maybe I should take her to lunch and teach her a thing or two."
"Not everyone is anal-retentive, Darren. Maybe you should chill out a little and get laid."
"Right. As if I have time for that. Fucking a woman means getting to know her, and although you live a free life thanks to your wealthy bride, I do not." He opened his eyes and pushed the menu away. "I just expect the best, Jaquez. What's wrong with that? Why can't I expect someone to have some semblance of pride in their job?"
"You can, but you're not expecting pride, but perfection. No one is perfect. Not even you, brother."
"She exists. I just need to find her." He brushed his fingers over his lips and turned to watch the water lap up on the shores just outside his window. "I have to go. I'll talk to you later."
"All right, but mark my words. If you start looking for opportunity everywhere, you're going to find it."
Darren chuckled and dropped the call. He knew how to find opportunity in business, no doubt. His success left him a billionaire at his young age, and where that was the intended goal, it seemed like it would never be enough. It wasn't even about the money. It was about success, about setting impossible goals and achieving them. It was exhausting, and yet he was so wrapped up in racing to the top of each mountain presented to him, that he'd forgotten how to relax or rest altogether.
Having grown up in the slums of Italy with his brother and mother to protect and provide for, he'd begun hustling at a young age. If there was a way to make money, he was in the middle of it. After spending a few years getting farther and farther away from his roots, his mother's oldest brother forced him to come work in one of the largest kitchens in Italy. He was the low man on the totem pole, and where cooking had always been of interest to him, he was lost as to how to create dishes the way the executive chefs did.
The delight and excitement on the customers’ faces were palpable each time Darren encountered them in the restaurant. It was powerful and heady to know that in simply creating something delicious, he could bring people to love him and his creations. He dove in deeply, finding solace in the kitchen and around the insane pace that the executive chefs forced them to keep up with.
Perfection wasn't requested, it was demanded. There was nothing less than the best. If he could force himself to become the best from his meager beginnings, then anyone could do the same. People just didn't seem to focus on the need to push themselves anymore.
He turned at the sound of a car door slamming. It had to be the new maid. He wasn't expecting anyone else.
Some part of him wanted to give the poor girl a break, to let her prove what she could do and then push a little at what he wanted done differently, but he knew himself too well. He would push from the on-start and if she was capable of dealing with him in a professional manner, then they would get along beautifully.
"I hope she's not beautiful." He stopped by the back door and waited for her to get out of the car. The windows on her small, beat-up Honda were tinted, leaving it impossible to see what she looked like. As much as he wanted the physical touch of another, it wouldn't take much for him to start fantasizing about the poor girl on a regular basis. Fantasy often propelled him forward to take action. He was a risk-taker by nature and loved a good challenge more than anything else.
If she was beautiful and feisty, they were in for a world of hurt. Darren couldn't remember the last time he'd gone after something he wanted and hadn't come out victorious.
His business was the prime example. After setting the bar at five restaurants by the time he was twenty-six, he accomplished it a year early. He continued to set ridiculous goals and smash each of them with efficiency and effectiveness.
His desire for knowledge in the kitchen and within the structure of his business was insatiable. The empire that he sat at the helm of was only in its infancy and where he knew it was time to step back and take a breather, he couldn't force himself to do it.
His drive was likely killing him slowly, but it was the only thing he was living for at present. Without a wife or close family to support, he put every bit of energy and effort into his restaurants. His newest one had been the largest challenge of all, but learning the American palate while keeping true to his Italian roots was a little tricky.
It thrilled him, turned him on, left him itching for someone to relieve his angst with.
His breath caught in his chest as the girl got out of her car and turned, glancing back at the water. Her cream-colored sweater hugged her tightly, showing her body off. Her breasts were more than a handful, her hips a sharp curve and the swell of her rear was steep and tantalizing.
"Fuck," he mumbled and turned from the door to walk back into the kitchen. A beautiful body would always catch his eye, but if she was pretty, feminine, sweet and almost innocent looking in the face, he would be in trouble.
He was grateful that the other maids hadn't been his type at all. The arrangement between them was nothing more than a business deal, and he would maintain that. The girl could have stepped out of his last wet dream, and he would still be quick to point out her faults and help her see where she could improve. He longed for someone to do the same to him. In his younger years, his uncle and his other mentors would help him grow, but after making it to the top, no one ever thought to speak out and continue to help develop the upper echelon that he belonged to.
She knocked at the door, and he moved toward it, brushing his hands down his black button-down shirt and black slacks. It was a little much with his dark hair and piercing gaze, but he usually started with intimidation in all business relationships. It was a quick way to tell the metal of the man, or woman as it were.
Darren opened the door and forced himself not to react. "Good morning. I assume you're from—"
She cut him off, surprising him a little. "Maids, Inc. I'm Mariah. Nice to meet you."
Her hand was soft in his, and though her voice was commanding and no-nonsense, her expression was kind and filled with serenity. She was a step beyond beautiful, the type of woman who belonged in a magazine, not dusting people's mantels for a living. She had dark, exotic features, chocolate brown eyes, and long, dark hair.
"Right. Come on in, Mary. I'll show you around and then I've got to be going. I'm Darren Botelli."
"It's Mariah, and it's nice to meet you, Mr. Botelli."
"Darren, please." He glanced back, unable to help himself. Her dark eyes held question as she looked around at the house, but didn't seem to focus much on him. She was most likely married or in a relationship. If not... experience told him there was a good reason for that.
She was most likely crazy.