The Billionaire’s Housekeeper

George found himself stealing more and more glances at Rita as they ate. They didn’t speak, but it wasn’t for lack of anything to say. This was one of those comfortable silences that they both seemed to enjoy. If Rita caught George looking at her, she would offer him a kind smile and go back to her meal. George noticed that she frequently closed her eyes. She was always so focused on whatever it was that she was doing, and he couldn’t help but admire that.

“Are you open to talking a bit about your childhood?” George asked. He was just about to pour himself a second glass of wine when a waiter came up and did so for him. George thanked him, but Rita shook her head when he was about to pour her a glass as well. She liked having her wits about her. She was never too fond of alcohol. She had seen what it did to her father and even to her ex-boyfriend who she had run away from. He had been under the influence of all kinds of things while Rita had unfortunately been under his influence for many years.

“My childhood was pretty text book. Girl is born, one parent is an alcoholic, parents split up, and girl grows up having a jaded sense of what it means to really be loved by a man,” Rita said. It was silly to her that George was the one that was drinking, but she was the one spewing seemingly drunken thoughts to him. George shot her a sympathetic look and extended his hand for her to take. She hesitated, but then placed her small hand in his.

He was warm, and his warmth was surging through her now. She wasn’t at all sure how far into her childhood she wanted to go. It was too much for having dinner for the first time. But she knew that she was truly enjoying herself, and there was a part of her that wanted all of this to be real. Her heart lifted when he squeezed her hand just a bit, and the two of them stared at each other for a long time.

“We can talk about something else if you’d like,” George finally said. Rita breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good. I don’t want to talk much about the past. I’d like to talk about the present…and the possibility of the future,” Rita said.

“Go on,” George said.

“I guess I just want to know if you’re happy right now. I mean at this very moment. With all that’s been going on over the last few weeks.”

“I’m a bit overwhelmed,” George admitted. Rita nodded her head and looked away. She felt silly. She was living in a fantasy world where she was no longer the house keeper and Mr. Ainsworth could possibly love her beyond the paperwork and the wedding. George squeezed her hand again and she waited for him to continue.

“Work always has me overwhelmed. But now the press is snooping around not just in my business but my personal life. People like to talk…a lot. They’ll get their fill and believe whatever they’d like anyway. I try not to pay much attention, but when there are reporters constantly in my face when I’m trying to focus on work, it gets pretty jarring.”

“Do you wish we hadn’t done this?” Rita asked quietly. George felt a cold shiver over his heart and he swallowed before answering.

“I hate to lie, but I don’t regret it. I did what I knew was right, and I’d do it again if you’d have me.”

“You mean, marry you?”

“Yes Rita, I mean marry me,” George said. He didn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was the way Rita looked that evening, or just being able to talk to her without sensing that there would be anger heading his way, but he was glad that Rita was very welcome company. She had made him laugh tonight, and they were able to share a comfortable silence. They had a way of communicating through touch, or whenever their eyes met. There was a connection that neither of them could deny, but also one neither of them would admit.

George ran his thumb against Rita’s knuckles. He finally realized what he was doing and slowly pulled his hand away. Rita didn’t really want him to let go, but it wasn’t up to her. There was still something about this situation that made her realize that her decisions were still not quite her own yet.

“Ok, Mr. Ainsworth,” Rita said, feigning an upbeat attitude. She wanted to hold onto his hand and look into his eyes for the whole night if she could. Something about George was softening, and she wanted to get to know all sides of him. “Now it’s your turn to tell me what you’re thinking.”

George didn’t want to talk about what was on his mind. He much preferred talking about the present moment and what it could mean for the future.

Instead, he sighed and opened his mouth to speak.

“Julie,” he said weakly, his eyes furrowed.

“Julie?” Rita said. She was admittedly taken aback. They had gone the whole night without mentioning her.

“Yes, Julie…is here.”