Housekeepers Say I Do!: Maid for the Millionaire / Maid for the Single Dad / Maid in Montana

“That’s what she said.”

“But—” Damn it. Why did everything about Liz have to turn complicated? “Why would she want to meet me?”

“To thank you?”

Annoyed, he growled. “I don’t need thanks.”

Ava shrugged. “I have no idea what’s going on. I’m just the messenger.” She set the check and a business card on Cain’s desk. “Here’s the address. She said it would be wonderful if you could be there tonight at eight.”

Cain snatched up the card and damned near threw it in the trash. But he stopped. He was this close to making it up to Liz for their marriage being a disaster. No matter how much he’d worked with his dad before he sold the family business in Kansas and retired, Cain had never been able to do enough to make up for his brother’s death. His parents had accepted Tom’s death as an accident and eventually Cain had, too. Sort of. As the driver of the car, he would always feel responsible. He’d never let go of that guilt. But he did understand it had been an accident.

But his troubled marriage wasn’t an accident. He’d coerced Liz. Seduced her. More sexually experienced than she had been, he’d taken advantage of their chemistry. Used it. She hadn’t stood a chance.

And he knew he had to make that up to her. Was he really going to let one oddball request stand in his way of finally feeling freed of the debt?

CHAPTER FOUR

ARRANGING HER NOTES for the executive board meeting for A Friend Indeed held the first Friday of the month, Liz sat at the long table in the conference room of the accounting firm that handled the finances for the charity. the firm also lent them space to hold their meetings because A Friend Indeed didn’t want to waste money on an office that wouldn’t often be used. Their work was in the field.

Ayleen Francis, a fiftysomething socialite with blond hair and a ready smile who was the president of the board, sat at the head of the table chatting with Ronald Johnson, a local man whose daughter had been murdered by an ex-boyfriend. A Friend Indeed had actually been Ron’s brainchild, but it took Ayleen’s money and clout to bring his dream to fruition.

Beside Ron was Rose Swartz, owner of a chain of floral shops. Liberty Myers sat next to Rose and beside Liz was Bill Brown. The actual board for the group consisted of sixteen members, but the six-person executive board handled most of the day-to-day decisions.

Waiting for Ayleen to begin the meeting, Liz handed the receipts for the groceries she’d purchased for Amanda and her kids to Rose, the group’s treasurer, as well as a statement for cleaning services. Liz donated both the food and the services, but for accounting purposes A Friend Indeed kept track of what each cost.

“Thank you, Liz,” Rose said, her smile warm and appreciative. But before Liz could say you’re welcome, someone entered behind her and a hush fell over the small group.

Ayleen rose just as Liz turned to see Cain standing in the door way. “I’m assuming you’re Cain Nestor.”

He nodded.

Ayleen smiled and turned to the group. “Everyone, this is Cain Nestor, CEO of Cain Corporation. He’s visiting us this evening.”

Shock and confusion rippled through Liz. She hadn’t seen Cain in three years, now suddenly he was everywhere! Worse, she’d brought him here. She’d given him the name of the group when he followed her to Amanda’s. She couldn’t believe he was still pursuing the opportunity to thank her for staying with him while he was sick, but apparently he was and she didn’t like it. She was over him. She wanted to stay over him!

“Just take a seat anywhere.” Ayleen motioned to the empty seats at the end of the table.

Cain didn’t move from the doorway. “Ms. Francis—”

Ayleen smiled sweetly. “Call me Ayleen.”

“Ayleen, could we talk privately?”

“Actually, I don’t say or do much for A Friend Indeed without my executive board present. That’s why I asked your assistant to pass on the message for you to meet me here. If you’ll let me start the meeting, I’ll tell the group about your donation—”

Liz frowned. He’d made a donation? To her charity?

“My assistant was also supposed to tell you that the donation was to be kept confidential.”

“Everything about A Friend Indeed is confidential.” She motioned around the room. “Nothing about the group goes beyond the board of directors. Some things don’t go beyond the six people at this table. However, none of us keeps secrets from the others. But if you don’t care to stay for the meeting, then I’ll simply tell the group I’m refusing your donation.”

Cain gaped at her. “What?”

“Mr. Nestor, though we appreciate your money, what we really need is your help.” She ambled to the conference-room door. “As I’ve already mentioned, everything about A Friend Indeed is confidential. That’s out of necessity. We give women a place to stay after they leave abusive husbands or boyfriends.” She smiled engagingly as she slid her arm beneath Cain’s and guided him into the room.

“For their safety, we promise complete anonymity. But because we do promise complete anonymity to our clients, we can’t simply hire construction firms to come and do repair work on our houses. As a result, several of them are in serious disrepair.”

Liz sat up, suddenly understanding the point Ayleen was about to make. The group didn’t need money as much as they needed skilled, trustworthy volunteers.

“The amount of your check is wonderful. But what we really need is help. If you seriously want to do something for this group, what we’d like is your time.”

Cain glanced at Liz, then returned his gaze to Ayleen. “What are you saying?”

“I’m asking you to do some work for us.”

He looked at Liz again. Her skin heated. Her heartbeat jumped to double-time. He was actually considering it.

For her.

Something warm and syrupy flooded her system. He’d never done anything like this. It was overkill as a thank-you for her helping him through the flu. Donating money was more within his comfort zone. Especially donating anonymously. A secret donation of money, no matter how big, was easy for him.

But A Friend Indeed didn’t need his money as much as his help. And he was considering it.

Holding his gaze, Liz saw the debate in his eyes. He’d have to give up time, work with people. Ordinary people. Because someone from A Friend Indeed would have to accompany him. A stranger couldn’t go to the home of one of their abused women alone.

But, his money hadn’t been accepted. If he still wanted to do something nice for Liz, it would require his time. Something he rarely gave.

Continuing to hold Liz’s gaze he said, “What would I have to do?”

Liz smiled. Slowly. Gratefully. She didn’t care as much about a thank-you as she cared about A Friend Indeed. About the families in the homes that needed repairs. She’d been up close and personal with most of them, since her group was in charge of cleaning them for the families, and she knew just how bad some of the homes were.

Alyeen said, “Liz? What would he have to do?”

Liz faced Ayleen. “Cain paid his way through university working construction jobs in the summer. If he could spare the time, the house we moved Amanda into a few weeks ago has a lot of little things that need to be repaired.”

“It’s been years since I’ve done any hands-on construction. I can’t make any promises without seeing the house.”

Ayleen clapped her hands together with glee. “Understandable. I’ll have Liz take you to Amanda’s.”

Liz’s heart thumped. She wanted his help, the group needed his help, but she didn’t want to have to be with him to get it.

“I’m not sure I can,” Liz said at the same time that Cain said, “That’s not necessary.”

“You’re a stranger to us,” Ayleen firmly told Cain. “For the safety and assurance of our families, I want you with someone from the board at all times.” She faced Liz. “Liz, you’ve been at Amanda’s every weekend since she moved in anyway. And you obviously know Cain. You’re the best person to accompany him to Amanda’s tomorrow.” She smiled at Liz. “Please.”

Drat. She shouldn’t have mentioned her knowledge about Cain’s construction experience. But she had been amazed and grateful that he was willing to help. She’d be crazy or shrewish to refuse to do her part.

“Sure.”