The Heiress (Book 2 of the Forbidden Series)

2

Alexander stood on the doorstep of an extravagant country estate just under an hour out of the city. The security at the gate had assured him that he had the correct address and the master of the house was expecting him. The property was huge surrounded by a tall stone wall and well-kept vegetation that offered privacy to the land. It was evident that the owner of the home was exceedingly wealthy and valued their privacy. Alexander rang the doorbell and waited. It was a few minutes before the large white door with stain glass windows opened to reveal the old Italian man that had gotten Alexander the interview. His smile was warm and inviting. “Come in my boy.” He welcomed Alexander.

The inside was as impressive as the out and Alexander sucked in a breath of admiration. “Do you take care of all this?” He asked imagining the immense amount of work that must go into maintaining such a beautiful and large estate. He understood why the old man was hiring help. The physical labour enough would be exhausting for a man in his sixties.

“My wife and I have managed every aspect of this estate and the affairs of the family for the last twenty years. I have worked for Mr. Thompson for twenty-seven glorious and profitable years. The residents are more family to my wife and me that many of our blood relatives.” The old man smiled. “You will like it here my boy the Thompson’s are extremely generous, and all they ask in return is loyalty and above all confidentiality.”

Alexander stopped dead in his tracks not sure if he had heard the old man correctly. “Thompson? As in David Thompson… the Heathen, front man?”

“The very same, all though he has been retired from the stage for over fifteen years now. He now runs Paradise Records, has launched a lot of very talented artists. I assume you have heard of him.”

“Who hasn’t?” Alexander answered looking around to see if he could spot the sexy redhead from the night before. It was just his luck that he rejected a powerful woman one night and applied for a position with her father the next morning. If he were lucky, she would be like any other spoiled rich kid and never notice the help.

The old man led Alexander toward the back of the house and knocked on a closed door. Opening it, he walked into a well-designed study where Alexander met the man himself, David Thompson, a living rock legend. Alexander had grown up listening to his mother’s Heathen albums and studied many of their music videos mimicking David’s moves in many of his acts. The man must have been in his sixties, but barely showed his age at all. His body still lean and athletic as he paced the floor. He wore a headset that told Alexander the man was on the phone. It was business, he assumed by the tone in David’s voice. Alexander admired this man. Talented and aged well, a self-made man, he had a lovely wife, twenty years younger and incredibly successful in her musical career.

Once his conversation concluded, David pressed a button and removed his headset placing it on the mahogany desk behind him. “Is this him?” He asked the old man. “He looks strong enough,” David said letting his scrutinizing gaze roll over Alexander’s faded worn jeans and an old black t-shirt. He wished he had dressed better, but this was his best. David’s gaze darted to the window, and he frowned at the sight of Alexander’s old motorcycle parked out front.

“This is the man I was telling you about. He needs a good paying job, and I need some help. I’m not as young as I used to be and god knows I wasn’t blessed with your gift of physical maintenance.” The old servant grinned, his tone was informal, and his stance relaxed. They didn’t interact like employee and employer.

“What’s your name?” David asked.

“Alexander Sinton, Sir.”

“You understand this is a live-in position, right? You will, of course, have scheduled hours and days off, but you will be expected to be on call for unforeseen necessities?” David said with a hint of disapproval in his tone.

“Yes, Sir.” Alexander got the feeling this man did not like him much.

“Very well, if Rolland feels you are the man for the job welcome to the household. Feel free to use the facilities on your off hours. You may come and go as you please. Rolland will show you to your room and around the grounds. He will outline your duties and responsibilities, as well as your pay and benefits. You understand the need for trust in my staff, so I hope you won't mind if I have you sign a confidentiality contract. It just protects us against any act of betrayal of confidence to the media. It basically says if you f**k me and mine over I’ll bury you in legalities. But so long as you don’t, we will all get along fine.” David presented the contract. Alexander signed the document and shook David’s hand to seal the deal. “Welcome to the family. Rolland, please show Alexander around and fill him in on how things run.” David picked up his headset and began placing another call. Rolland escorted Alexander out closing the door behind them.

Rolland led him around showing Alexander the vast estate. His own home at the far ends of the grounds should Alexander ever need him, the garage, and tool shed for landscaping. The pool was next, just off the house and surrounded by windows keeping it insulated and all year round accessible.

There was a small gym in the lower levels and a midsized room set up as a dance studio. Farther down the hall was a soundproof room designed for acoustics and filled with instruments. The family worked from home regularly Rolland had explained. Moving back to the main level he was shown around the sitting room, and living room, the kitchen, which Rolland explained was his wife Beth’s kitchen. She was the only person allowed to cook and should anyone mess with her kitchen or dare to miss a meal she would hunt them down. He chuckled and continued with the tour. The laundry room was next, the cleaning closets and other closets, and then the tour moved upstairs. The washrooms and guest rooms, and which room belonged to whom.

Once Alexander had seen the whole house and the grounds, and Rolland had made clear the expectations and duties of the position, he was taken to the back of the house where Alexander was shown his new quarters. “You will have your own washroom connected to your room. The room is set up with satellite TV, a radio and a mini-fridge for any drinks or snacks or whatever. There is a phone on the nightstand, and you have your own line. The number is on the paper beside the phone. We eat lunch at one, dinner is at six, and breakfast is at ten in the morning, the household sleeps late. You will eat with the family, we all do. Go ahead and get settled in, you will join us for lunch and start work tomorrow morning. Today you can get to know everyone.” Rolland said and began to leave.

Alexander placed his coat on the bed; he would have to have his things sent over. He had been made aware of his duties and hours, but his most important question remained. “My wage… what would it be and when may I expect to be paid?”

“Mr. Thompson will provide you with anything you may need; we are paid monthly on the last banking day of each. You will be paid handsomely, seventy-five-thousand a year. Is that satisfactory?” Rolland asked with a teasing grin. The young man’s eyes widened in stunned approval. It was a lot for a houseboy. It wouldn’t solve his problems, but it would help. “I told you, the family is very generous and very informal, so please learn their names Kat hate’s when people call her Mrs. Thompson; she says it makes her feel old.”

Rolland left, and Alexander dropped onto the single bed. Was he really here? This job was too good to be true. He had incredible lodgings, dinned with celebrities, and paid more than he could have made in many other jobs. He wasn’t sure if he was going to quit working with the guys, they had given him a job when he had needed one, and he’d hate to leave them high and dry. Besides he still needed the money. While seventy-five grand a year was good for a houseboy and would defiantly help pay his expenses it wasn’t enough to pay off his debts or his mother’s medical bills.

He would still need a second job, but he wasn’t sure if that second job should still be with the group or not. As enjoyable as the job was he longed for something more than being viewed as a piece of meat. He would have never guessed before taking the job, but women were as bad as, if not worse, than most men when it came to paying for a peek. He was sick of being groped by everyone and their grandmother. This would be a pleasant change.

***

Layla strolled into the dining room, her family surrounding the large table passing around platters of food. Her eighteen-year-old brother was sharing a story of his previous night. Her father laughed and joined in on the banter. His youthful spirit brightened his face. Her still beautiful mother patted his hand lovingly.

Beth instructed Layla to sit and eat. Her old nanny always hovered around her family like a mother hen. She was protective and stern but beloved by each member. Rolland lowered his old bones into a seat beside his wife asking about the young lady Dane had left with the night prior. The conversation was light and joyous when David suddenly rose from his seat wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin.

“Everyone let me introduce Rolland’s new assistant, Alex.”

Alexander stood awkwardly in the doorway all eyes upon him. The elderly Italian woman rose from her seat and ushered him to the table fixing him a plate of food and insisting he was far too thin.

David took his seat and grinned. “Don’t worry, Beth feels that if you don’t have to loosen your belt, you are too thin. Alex, may I call you Alex or do you prefer Alexander?”

“Alex is fine.” He spoke picking up his fork and looking around the table his face becoming flush when he spotted Layla. She was as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

“Let me introduce everyone. You already know Rolland and the woman force-feeding us all this wonderful meal is his wife, Beth. This gorgeous woman,” he smiled warmly taking his wife’s hand in his, “is Kat, the love of my life. This is our son Dane and our daughter Layla.”

Layla stared at the handsome man she had spent all night fantasizing about. He had been heating her dreams and made her sleep restless. He was the household’s newest servant, working and living under her roof. What an interesting turn of events. “So, Alex what did you do before you came to work for us?” Her mother asked placing a spoonful of Beth’s homemade soup in her mouth.

Alexander swallowed his food, uncertainty in his eyes not sure what to say. Layla lifted her water glass to her lips and took a sip letting the newcomer sweat a bit before answering for him. “Alex is a dancer Mama. I’ve had the pleasure of seeing one of his shows. He is very good.”

Alexander smiled uncomfortably shifting in his seat. Clearing his throat, he silently prayed for a change of subject. “Really?” Her father’s interest piqued and his prayers were denied. “What type of dancing do you do?”

“Um…”

“He dances very much like you Daddy,” Layla interjected.

“Well, then you must be very popular with the ladies,” Kat observed fondly remembering her husband’s fluent skills.

Alexander lowered his eyes to his plate poking at his food. “I do well enough.” He awkwardly answered.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Piped up Dane who sat to his left at the table.

“I have many, but no one special.”

“A young strapping bambino like yourself with no one special.” Beth clucked. “What a sin. A man needs a good woman. I have two daughters of my own and…”

Rolland tapped his wife’s hand putting an end to her matchmaking thoughts. “I must apologize; Beth will have you so wrapped up in dates and at the altar in a week if you let her. You just put your foot down and tell her you can find your own little Miss.” Rolland emphasized making his point clear to his medaling wife.

David chuckled, and the conversation turned to the events of the evening to come. They were expecting guests to celebrate his sixty-first birthday and Beth was on cloud nine with so many mouths to feed. “You are welcome to join the party tonight Alex.” Kat extended the invitation with warmth in her eyes.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll just move some of my things into my room tonight, get settled in before I start tomorrow.” He declined graciously.

“Suit yourself. Rolland have you given Alexander a key yet?” David asked relaxing back in his seat.

“I will have one for the boy as soon as lunch is over.”

***

Once lunch was over Alexander offered to help Beth clear the table only to have his hands slapped and scolded on how the kitchen is no place for a man. Shrugging he excused himself and left the house. His motorcycle was still parked in the front drive, and he was ready to go back to his mother’s and collect a few of his things. They had been living together to save money while he paid off his mother’s medical bills and was more than ready to leave. He loved his mother very much but living with her was embarrassing for a man of his age regardless of the reason.

Alexander knelt beside his bike checking the kickstand. The damn thing was stuck again, and he needed to get it up to go. It was the third time that day and was starting to get on his nerves. He wondered if oiling the joint would make any difference. Standing Alexander held on to the handles and kicked the stand hard, then again, and again. Finally, on the fourth try, the stand went up squeaking in the process.

“Sounds like you could use a new one.” A female voice startled him. Turning his head, he saw the flame-haired vixen that had made it so hard to sleep the previous night. His thoughts drifted back to what she felt like with her legs straddling his hips. She stood close to him, and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed her approaching.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

“Thank you for getting me through that meal. I wasn’t sure how honest I should be.” He smiled brushing a lock of dark hair from his eyes.

“You are welcome. So, you must be feeling a little starstruck; you didn’t wake up thinking by lunch you would be living with rock stars, did you?” She asked coyly moving closer.

“I can’t say I did.” Alexander swung his leg over the seat and straddled the bike. “I really ought to go.” There was a hungry twinkle in her pretty eyes he had seen countless times before. As much as he would have loved to take advantage of the opportunity sleeping with the boss’ daughter hours after getting a great job would be the dumbest thing he had ever done. “Happy birthday, Miss. Thompson.” He mocked with a knowing wink.

“Layla.” She blushed, embarrassed to have been caught in her lie. “I can explain that.”

“Layla.” He corrected himself. “You don’t have to, you are not the first woman to lie at a show, and you won’t be the last. Enjoy your evening.” Revving the bike, he pulled on his helmet and positioned his feet as the bike launched forward.

***

Maria Sinton sat weeping on her couch when her son arrived that afternoon. The collection agencies had her accounts frozen and threatened to seize her assets if they did not receive payments.

“How much do they want?” Alexander asked wringing his hands nervously as he sat on edge beside his far too thin mother. His father had gambled away every penny they had and more leaving his wife in devastating debt at the time of his death. An only son Alexander took it upon himself to pay his parents’ debts for his mother now that she was too ill to work. Between the debt his father had left and the medical bills, his mother was accumulating Alexander was at his wit's end trying to raise money.

“They want four installments of eight hundred dollars for this month alone starting at the end of this week.” She sniffled dabbing her tears with the crumpled tissue in her thin fingers. “It’s hopeless; I might as well see if I can find a room in Mt. Pleasant.”

Alexander fisted and flexed his fingers, the stress and tension building in his joints. He would not let her lose the house; he would not have his mother living in a hospice when all she wanted was to die at home. He had three days to get the first installment, and after that, he would worry about how to get the rest of the money. He wasn’t sure how he would come up with such a large sum so quickly, his accounts had been maxed out already, and he was not due for another pay cheque for two weeks. The pay he had received the previous night would only cover half of the first installment needed.

Alexander was not in a position to ask for an advance from either job, but then again maybe Rick had a private booking he was looking to fill. It was worth a shot. Alexander patted his mother’s hand and stroked her head through the colourful wrap she wore to hide the fact that her hair had fallen out. He tried to comfort her as best he could. “I’ll get the money Mother, I promise, I won’t let you end up in Mt. Pleasant.”

“It seems never to end.” She whimpered her timid voice like a coo of a dove.

“I know but it will. I got a very good job today. It pays well, and I can start making a dent in all those bills very soon. It will get better.” He promised and kissed her wrinkled forehead. Once a stunning beauty his mother had become aged beyond her years with worry, and therapy over the last year. But in Alexander’s eyes, she would always be that lovely Cuban beauty that made him pancakes for supper and built snow forts in the backyard with him when his father was throwing away what little they had at the local taverns and gaming tables. Alexander rose from his seat and squeezed his mother’s fragile hand he walked over to the shelf that held her limited CD collection. Selecting her favourite Heathens album from the shelf, he waved it above his head. “Mama, may I borrow this for a few days or so? I promise to bring it back better than new.”

She hesitated and then nodded her approval. He kissed his mother’s cheek and strolled down the hall. If he could not save her home, in the end, he could at least ask David to autograph his mother’s album. Alexander spent the next hour in the small room that had been his as a boy packing clothes and music, his books and a few other trinkets he held dear. Opening his closet, Alexander stuffed a second bag with his costumes and accessories. He hid them to the back should his mother decide to tidy up. He did not want her to know how he had been supporting them for the last year; she would never understand.

His things packed and the bags by the door Alexander gave his mother the number she could reach him at. He assured her he would take care of her and encouraged her to invite the Cranks from down the street over for a card game. “I have some business to take care of, but you call me whenever you want, and I’ll be back on Saturday.” He hugged his mother and carried his bags to his bike. Strapping the luggage to the backseat, he waved good-bye.