Chapter 9
The weather in the month of June was unpredictable. One moment, it was sunny; the next, a storm rolled in.
Tara stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring absently at the downpour outside. The blare of car horns and the hurried footsteps inside the villa finally snapped her out of her thoughts.
Stella, Hailey, and the other housekeepers clutched their umbrellas. Stella’s face was tense. It was as if she was worried that the men would get drenched.
Tara had assumed that the others could handle it and hadn’t planned to help—until Hailey spotted her.
It wasn’t that Hailey was unusually observant. But with just a glance, Tara’s presence by the window was impossible to overlook, her gaze distant as she watched the rain. She looked like an exquisite, lifelike statue, too striking to ignore.
Except for Stella, who was too distracted by the four men to pay attention, the others had noticed Tara, even if they didn’t openly stare.
Hailey, however, had no patience for her idleness. So what if enough people were already keeping the men from getting wet?
“Tara, hurry up. Here’s another umbrella.” Hailey raised her voice, urging Tara to help cover the men from the rain.
Without protest, Tara walked toward the villa’s entrance, saying, “I’ll follow in a moment.”
Satisfied, Hailey let her be and stepped into the rain, unfurling her umbrella.
Tara reached the doorway and took two umbrellas from the outdoor stand. She opened one, raindrops sliding off its surface and disappearing into the downpour.
Ahead of her, the housekeepers moved swiftly. Tara matched their pace, trailing just a few steps behind. She tilted her umbrella slightly and glanced up at the leaden sky. It looked like the rain wouldn’t let up anytime soon.
A line of luxury vehicles idled a short distance away. Shawn exited first, and Stella, standing nearest to him, hesitated. She seemed to wish that she could attend to all four men, reluctant to let anyone else step in.
Leah moved to offer her umbrella, but the driver was faster, intercepting with his own to shield Shawn.
The driver cast a sharp look at the housekeepers, clearly displeased with their sluggish response. He had gotten out of the car, yet no one had opened an umbrella for Shawn.
Shawn, ever good-natured, remained unbothered by the faint moisture gathering on his suit.
Hailey and Leah instantly recognized the accusation in the driver’s glare, their chests constricting with a sense of injustice. The delay hadn’t been their fault. Stella’s indecision had made them second-guess their actions, too.
Shawn had only taken a few steps toward the villa when he realized that Tara was lingering behind, alone. His thoughts drifted to two nights earlier when she’d bumped into him, her hand grazing him lightly.
Tara caught his gaze and greeted him. “Mr. Wilhelm.”
Shawn offered her the slightest nod and walked past without stopping.
“Tara, over here.”
The window of the luxury car ahead rolled down, revealing half of Gemma’s face from the passenger seat.
Tara quickened her pace. “Gemma.”
Gemma scowled at the housekeepers clustered around Lance’s car. She wondered why they were all gathered there. To make matters worse, the driver had forgotten the car’s only umbrella at the office.
Tara glanced into the back seat. Jonah was inside.
“Gemma, I brought two umbrellas. You and I can share one, and Mr. Pearson can use the other,” Tara said.
Gemma’s irritation immediately faded. She studied Tara standing outside the car. There was no hint of deception in her expression. She also thought that Tara was really beautiful.
Gemma might have even considered signing her if her background had been different. But the thought was fleeting. Bringing that thought to life would be too complicated.
The mere fact that Tara had once worked as a housekeeper in this villa meant that Gemma could never bring her into the entertainment industry.
“Fine,” Gemma replied.
She stepped out and took the umbrella. As she opened it, a sudden thought struck Gemma.
“Make sure Mr. Pearson gets back to the villa dry,” she told Tara.
Tara didn’t get it. After all, Jonah was tall. He could’ve walked back to the villa under his own umbrella. Why did she have to hold it for him? Wouldn’t that just leave her out in the rain?
She was about to ask, but Gemma had already vanished into the downpour.
Tara let out a quiet sigh. If she ended up soaked, she’d just change into a clean uniform later. She stepped to the rear left door and tapped the window twice.
“Mr. Pearson, Gemma told me to bring you back to the villa.”
She stressed Gemma’s name, making sure he understood that this wasn’t her idea, so he wouldn’t think that it was some scheme to get near him.
The door opened, revealing Jonah’s sharp, aristocratic features. His expensive, perfectly fitted suit only added to his commanding presence, making him seem refined and untouchable.
He loomed over her, his height alone enough to put her on edge. She lifted the umbrella as high as she could, shielding him from the rain while the rain slanted onto her.
Jonah looked down at Tara and took the umbrella from her hand. The handle remained between them, the canopy tilting slightly in her direction.
Surprised, she glanced around and saw that the heavy rain had barely dampened the edge of her clothes while Jonah’s black dress pants were already half-soaked.
“Mr. Pearson, Gemma said you shouldn’t get wet,” Tara said. She wondered if Gemma would dock her pay over this.
Jonah held the umbrella without saying a single word as they walked back to the villa. The shelter it provided was narrow, forcing her to stay close, but not too close, or they’d both end up soaked. It was a careful balancing act.
They were near enough that Tara caught his cologne’s crisp, clean notes beyond the scent of rain.
Stella stood beneath Lance’s umbrella a short distance away, leaning toward him shyly.
Looking up, she noticed a man and a woman walking past. Tall and strikingly handsome, Jonah held his umbrella over Tara with such care that she remained nearly dry.
Stella’s face registered stunned disbelief. She couldn’t believe that Jonah was actually protecting Tara from the rain.
Lance witnessed the same scene but showed no surprise, as if this behavior was completely characteristic of Jonah.
Meanwhile, Soren emerged from the car just as the rain intensified.
“Terrible weather,” he muttered before following Hailey back to the villa. At the front door, he grumbled, “Clear skies one moment, downpour the next.”
He detested rainy days, though he took some comfort in having stayed relatively dry.
Hailey, who had been holding his umbrella, was now thoroughly drenched. Self-conscious about her soaked clothing, she murmured an excuse to Gemma and slipped away to change.
Of all the housekeepers, Tara alone had escaped most of the rain’s touch.
Tara watched Jonah change his shoes, his clothes half-drenched from the rain. Just then, Gemma asked her to step aside. Right away, Tara assumed that Gemma was going to dock her pay because Jonah had gotten soaked.
“Gemma, could you take off less?” she asked, immediately bargaining. The pay was good, but too many deductions would be hard to accept.
Gemma paused, momentarily confused, before understanding dawned on her.
She laughed. “What are you talking about? Do I seem that unfair to you? Mr. Pearson getting wet wasn’t your fault. I’m not cutting your pay, so don’t worry.”
Tara’s shoulders relaxed in visible relief. “Thank you, Gemma.”
“I called you over to tell you something. I’m letting go of what happened before. No more tests for you. But you really can’t have those kinds of intentions again.” Gemma’s voice was firm but not unkind.
Tara nodded quickly, though she hadn’t even realized that Gemma had been testing her. Nevertheless, it was a relief. After all, no one wanted to work under constant suspicion.
“I won’t,” she said.
