Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Five Thousand a Week

**ROMANY**

I woke up the early next morning with my face so swollen I looked like a damned goldfish. My cell phone lay dead on the nightstand and as it was, I wasn't quite ready to breathe life back into the damn thing given the messages - or lack thereof that might or might not greet my battered gaze this morning. After jumping out of bed to pilf through my luggage, I took a two hour shower just to bring down the swelling in my eyes. Once I was done, I donned a pair of distressed blue jean shorts and a flowy off shoulder blouse that made my boobs look delicious. *Might be 'fairly pretty' my ass.* I ran a brush through my hair, spritzing the wide, curling waves with a touch of polisher and then I wound the single silver streak down the front into a flouncy spiral. One coat of mascara and a blot of lip gloss later I was bounding down the stairs toward the dining room looking like a girl on her way to the beach.

The moment my softly sandaled feet hit the first floor marble, all movement around the room seemed to freeze. Maids, gardeners, armed men dressed in black - all of which there was an abundance of - halted in their tracks to stare at me with wide confused eyes.

I cleared my throat, lowering my gaze as I pivoted toward the long hall and the dining room. I could feel the eyes of the men around the room lock on the sway of my hips as I passed them and for that I allowed a slight of a smile. But the women - the maids - scowled and huffed, whispering behind me cruelly. Their laughter chased me down the hall as I worked to control the confidence in my steps. I *would not* let the words of a few ignorant house servants disturb my five thousand dollar a week attitude. Oh no. For the money I was getting paid, those bitches could talk about me as much as they wanted to. *Go ahead, chickens. Cluck, cluck, cluck.*

I skidded to a stop in the dining room just as the clock on the mantle struck nine a.m. on the dot. The long dining room table looked as if it might seat twenty people. Or rather, twenty-two. There were ten chairs on each side of the dark black glass, and one more at each head. However, there were only places set for four people and as I stood there, I had to wonder *who* exactly those four people were.

"Well hello," a thick, buttery voice sounded behind me. "You must be Romany."

I spun around, my eyes going straight toward the floor and the dazzling set of ruby heels at the center. My gaze wandered upward, dancing over ivory skin and a black silk skirt, a wide red belt that wrapped beneath a modest A-cup bosom dressed in black bralette, before swinging up the final stretch of elegant neck that ended beneath a sharp slice of a chin and a two inch nose. The woman's lips were full at least. Painted a candy apple red in stark contrast to the milky translucence of her skin. Dark chocolate eyes narrowed on me, taking in my casual attire with a disdainful snort. Her pale blond hair was cut short, to just above her shoulders and it moved as a whole piece, hair sprayed into submission. Like a helmet or a wig...

"That's right," I confirmed absently, my eyes breaking off from her as servants began placing silver domed trays along the center of the table.

"I am Stella," she said. "Alex's personal assistant."

moment one of the servants lifted the lid off one of the platters, my tummy tried to bite through my skin. I realized right then that I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. Unless you count all the alcohol and the ice that I submerged myself in last night. *I'm starving.* I plopped my ass down in the seat closest to the head of the table and began piling food on my

host," she sniped, taking a standing position behind

I replied in a clipped voice

Stella, have a seat. You are much too skinny," Alex said

as I felt his energy pass by the back of my chair. At the same time, Stella's entire face erupted with red fury, her pointy chin tensing as she sat and scowled at

glass and seemed to lead onto the pool deck, but

And Stella's chin.

well?" Alex asked, taking a

currently biting into and the flavorful juices that were saturating my tongue.

said, snatching the fork out of my hand and the sausage

aroma of sausage to synge my eyes. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of black swim trunks. Chest smooth and deliciously bare, his bronzed skin glistened in the morning sun. Powerfully built pectorals rose and fell with each controlled breath, speckled with the water of a fresh swim. He appeared bigger today than he did last night. Or... maybe that's just his muscles talking. After all, they are all there. Standing at attention and dominating the space. I dared not look downward past his abs. God only knew what magic resided there between his soaking

the stolen sausage into his

at the loss of my

"Did you rest well?"

to study my plate, I nodded. "I did. Thank you so

my fork back into my pile of food for me. "You look to have a hearty appetite. I hope you have a strong