The Billionaire's Maid

1. Ariel

1

Ariel

Although hard, the convertible chair-bed underneath me provided something I’d lacked for quite some time—a place to sleep other than the sidewalk.

“Are you awake, love?” Mother’s voice came out scratchy. It had been that way for a while, worsening as time went by. I never thought anything of it as the rasp took over her once clear lilt. I definitely never thought it meant she had throat cancer. But that’s exactly what it had meant.

“I am, Mum.” I sat up, stretching my sore muscles. “Do you need anything?”

“A shower.” She smiled weakly. “And another ten years or so of life.”

She liked to joke around about her impending death a bit too much for my taste, but I forced a smile for her. “Don’t we all, Mum.” I got out of my little bed, which lay right next to her hospital bed. “I’ll start the shower then help you get in. No reason to bother the nurse at this hour.”

Her pale blue eyes scanned the dimly lit hospital room. “What time is it, Ariel?”

Looking at my watch, I made sure of the time. “Four in the morning.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t be bothering you for a shower at this hour, love. Go back to sleep.” My mother never liked to be a bother.

But I wasn’t about to let her go without one single comfort. “No, it’s no problem. You’ve been sleeping so much, I’m sure your internal clock is out of sorts. I’ll be right back.”

Heading to the toilet, I turned the light on and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Oh, Lord! I look like the walking dead.

After starting the shower, I washed my face in the sink then brushed my teeth. Mother’s illness had been rough on me. But then again, life had been rough for us both the last few years.

I’d just turned twenty-one, but my face looked closer to thirty—worn out before my life had even really begun.

My father’s death three years earlier had turned our lives upside down. He’d been a little too good at taking care of our every need. Once he and his paycheck were gone, Mum and I had no idea what to do.

The eviction notice came soon after the electricity was shut off. Mum’s car was repossessed not long after that. We’d used that as our shelter after we’d gotten kicked out, and without the car, we were left to live on the streets.

Piccadilly Circus in London became our new home. Or more accurately, the shelters and alleys around the square became the places where we laid our heads each night. During the day, we’d walk around picking up loose change and doing anything we could to make a few pounds.

As horrible as it sounds, Mum’s passing out in one of the shops had put a roof over our heads, food in our tummies, and a bed under our sore bodies. The hospital took care of us both. But once Mum passed on—and I knew it wouldn’t be long now—I would no longer have a place to stay.

Feeling that the water had warmed enough, I went to get my mother. “Your shower is ready.” I helped her out of bed, carefully holding her close to my side to help her walk the few feet it took to get from the bed to the toilet. The ever-present IV made things a little hard, but I’d learned to manage the bulky stand and the line that ran into my mother’s chest. The PICC line was a necessity if she wanted to be pain-free most of the time.

As far as treatment for her cancer was concerned, the doctors had recently run out of options. The day prior, the doctor had decided to stop both the radiation and the chemotherapy treatments as they weren’t working to reduce the mass in her throat.

“Ariel, I’m feeling a little odd.” Mum tried to clear her throat. “It feels like it’s getting bigger.”

My heart ached for her. “Try not to pay any attention to it, Mum. Focus on anything other than that lump in your throat.”

“It’s a bit difficult.” She ran her hand over her throat. It had swollen to a size I couldn’t believe—and in such a short time.

“Just try, Mum.” I picked up the detachable shower head to wash her hair. What was left of it, anyway. “Maybe your hair will come back now that they’ve stopped the chemo.”

“Do you really think so?” She smiled a little. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” She grasped my wrist suddenly, and I looked at her. “Ariel, I don’t want to be buried the way your father was. Please don’t let them do that to me. I want to be cremated. My ashes can be spread over his grave. Promise me that’s how you’ll take care of it.”

I hated when she spoke this way, but I knew it was important to her. “I promise you I will do whatever you want, Mum.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes as I finished washing her hair then took the sponge and washed the rest of her thin and frail body. “You’re a very good daughter, love. But you must start thinking about what you’ll do when the time comes. You can’t live in this hospital. You need to see about getting a job. I don’t want you living on the streets alone. It’s much too dangerous. Even with me there to protect you, things happened that I wish wouldn’t have.”

“I know.” I had no idea what I would do for a job. I had an eleventh grade education and didn’t know what marketable skills I could possibly have. When my father died, I quit going to school to take care of my mother. Even before she got sick, she’d always been frail, and she was a mess without my father. She didn’t know what to do with herself, and she cried all the time. I couldn’t leave her alone.

With the shower done, I turned the water off then wrapped her in a towel. “I’ll go grab a fresh hospital gown for you.” Leaving her sitting on the small chair in the walk-in shower, I hurried, not wanting to leave her too long. She couldn’t handle a fall in her present state.

The sound of her coughing sped me up even more. When I came back with the gown in hand, she was gasping for breath as the coughing fit kept going on and on.

I turned the shower back on, directing the hot water away from her. Steam soon filled the air, and the coughing began to ease up. Shaking, her eyes full of fear, she clung to my arm. She didn’t have to say a word. I could read it in her eyes: death was getting closer by the minute.

All dressed and safely back in bed, my mother went right to sleep. The whole ordeal had worn her out. I climbed back into my chair-bed, but sleep evaded me.

What am I going to do?

I was so tired of asking myself that same question over and over again. A few answers would spring up in my brain, but none that I could get to work on right then. I had to be there for Mum. I couldn’t take any time away from her to find a job, much less do a job.

Things were at a standstill for me. Waiting for the inevitable to happen, there was nothing else I could do other than be there for my mother.

I must’ve fallen asleep, as I felt a hand on my shoulder some time later, gently shaking me awake. “Miss Pendragon?”

Opening my eyes, I saw a blur of white, then rubbed the sleep from my eyes to see Mum’s doctor standing over me. “Doctor Ferguson?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He walked to the other side of the small room, heading for the door. “Can you come outside to talk to me?”

Getting up, I tried to smooth out my dress then ran my hand through my hair to tame it a bit. “Yes, sir.” I knew I looked like death warmed over, but I followed him out the door anyway.

Just on the other side of the door, the older man looked me over. “Miss Pendragon, I’ve been worried about you. My wife and I have been discussing your situation.”

“You have?” I was surprised. I had no idea he’d been thinking about me at all, much less that he cared about me.

“We have.” Pulling his black-rimmed glasses off his face, he reached into the pocket of his white coat and then handed me a piece of paper. “This is the number of a man who I think can help you. I called him last night to tell him about you. He thinks he can find a position for you at his resort. He owns an island in the Caribbean, and he has visitors from all over the world. His guests are typically wealthy people who are there to be catered to and demand privacy while they’re there.”

“And you think he’ll give me a job?” I asked as I looked at the number on the paper. A name—Galen Dunn—was written just above it. “Galen Dunne? Why does that name sound familiar?”

“He’s an extremely wealthy Irishman, and he’s gained some fame for his inventions and investments.” The doctor pulled his cell out of his pocket then showed me a news report with the man’s picture on it. “This is him, here.”

Blue eyes that seemed to look directly at me even from a mere picture shone from the screen. Dark waves hung to his broad shoulders. The suit he wore looked expensive and seemed to have been made just for him. His muscles were easily noticeable underneath the dark fabric.

“You said you’ve already spoken to this man?” I wasn’t sure what a man like that would expect from an employee.

“I have.” The doctor looked down the hallway as some beeping took his attention. “Look, I’ve got to go. They’ll be moving your mother to hospice care today. That means you’ll no longer be able to stay with her. You’ll be on your own, Miss Pendragon. Mr. Dunne has promised me he’ll take care of things for you—give you a job and a place to live. He’ll even get you to his island. But you’ve got to make the call and reach out to him yourself. He’s just that kind of man. He likes helping people, but first he wants to see that they’re ready to help themselves.”

With a nod, I asked, “Can I use the phone in Mum’s room to make the call?”

The doctor sighed then handed me his cell. “No. This is a long distance call, and the hospital won’t pay for that. Use my cell while I go check on my patient.”

Taking his phone, I dialed the number, crossing my fingers that I would say the right things to the only person who could help me.

After a few rings, a woman picked up. “Galen Dunne’s office. How can I help you?”

I froze, unable to speak.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

I heard a man’s voice in the background, “Nova, who is it?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe the connection is bad. I can’t hear anything,” she told him.

“Here, give me the phone,” the man said. “Galen Dunne here. What can I do for ya?”

His deep Irish voice was so smooth, so commanding. My mouth opened, and words finally spilled out. “I’m Ariel Pendragon, sir. Doctor Ferguson told me to call you. He said he spoke to you about me?”

“Ah, Ariel Pendragon from London,” his tone bore a certain amount of concern. “And how is your mother, my dear?”

“Well, she’s not going to get any better, sir.” I clenched my fist at my side, still angry at the unfairness of it all. “They’re sending her to another ward today. Hospice, whatever that is. The doctor said I couldn’t go with her.”

“He also told me that you and your mother were homeless.” He hesitated before going on, “Is that true?”

“Yes, sir, it’s true. I don’t know where I’ll be going once they move my mum.” Tears began to burn the backs of my eyes. “The doctor said that you might give me a job at your resort. I would take anything, sir. No job is beneath me.”

“Do you have any experience at all?” he asked.

“No, sir, I don’t have any experience. I dropped out of school in Year 12 and have been taking care of Mum ever since. That’s all I have, sir.” It felt humiliating having to tell him that.

“Not to worry, my dear,” he sounded so nice. “I can help you. You do want to improve your situation, don’t you?”

“I do want to better myself. I will do anything, sir—anything you want me to.” I thought better about what I’d said and specified, “Besides doing you any physical favors, sir. I hope you understand what I’m saying?” I felt myself blush, but I wanted him to know that there were some things I wasn’t willing to do—no matter how desperate I was.

He laughed. “My dear, I’m not in the habit of having to pay for a woman’s company. Not to worry, I’m thinking more along the lines of a maid. I’m in need of a personal maid here at the resort. My old maid has moved on; she met someone and has recently left my employment. So, when can you start?”

“As soon as you can get me there.” I could barely breathe. “My mother will be so relieved, sir. Thank you so very much.”

“I’ll charter a jet to bring you to Aruba right away. From there, my yacht will pick you up and bring you to the island.” He’d made everything so easy. “And don’t worry about trying to find clothing and anything else to bring with you. I understand what it means to be homeless. You’ll be provided with all the clothing, shoes, and toiletries you’ll need. I’ll set up a bank account for you once you get here. Give me your number, dear.”

“I don’t have a cell phone, sir.” I prayed that wouldn’t be a deal-breaker for what he was offering me.

“I’ll have Jeffrey give you one. Text me from at this number once you get it, so I’ll have your number.” He’d fixed my problem so quickly.

“Thank you, Mr. Dunne. But who is Jeffery?” I asked, not having a clue who he was talking about.

“Doctor Ferguson,” he clarified for me. “I’ll send you a text when you can get to the airport. See you soon, Miss Pendragon.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you so much—I won’t let you down. Goodbye.” I ended the call, then went to find the doctor to give him his phone.

I couldn’t wait to tell Mum the fantastic news!