His Glorified Maid

Four

Carlos knocked on Michaela Queen's door, even though he didn't think anyone would be able to hear it as the music blasting out of the house rattled the windows in their frames. While it was louder than he would have played it, he approved of the choice. Who didn't like a little Springsteen on a warm Saturday morning? Lost in the moment, he was surprised from the top stair when the door opened.

"Not pizza," the man called over his shoulder.

"Who are you?"

The stranger leaned casually against the frame, studied him, taking his time answering as he considered the demand behind the question. "You came knocking on my door."

"This is the address I had for Michaela Queen."

"Your information is correct. Although I have to wonder what Carlos Everton wants with my sister?"

Now that Carlos took the time to consider, he saw the man did have a familial sort of look. He wasn't going to assess the relief he felt at that moment. That could wait.

"Well, Mr Queen..."

"Luke."

"Well Luke, we were certain Michaela would brush our job offer aside, again, if it wasn't handled personally."

Carlos waited while Luke considered his statement. He didn't know what decision Luke had made but when he walked away and left the door open, he chose to follow. It was a nice place, with clean lines, modern furnishings, white walls, and few feminine touches. As the music got louder, he started to feel nervous. He hadn't felt nervous in a long time.

And then there she was, in the centre of the lounge, singing aloud as she danced around in short shorts and a T-shirt. Her hair waved energetically from side to side as did her long limbs. He had prepared himself for this meeting, for seeing her again considering his reaction to her the first time, but he was not prepared to see her like this. Carefree, beautiful, and enchanting.

Suddenly conscious that the woman's brother was watching him, he put on his best professional, nonchalant look. Judging by Luke's discerning look, he knew he had failed.

"Mike, look who makes house calls."

She turned mid-hip thrust, her hair flying and her arms bouncing. He winced internally the moment her warm and open smile disappeared when she saw him.

"Holy shit," she exclaimed.

He smiled despite himself when she covered her mouth with her hand at the unexpected expletive. She mustn't swear often he decided. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Michaela." She looked horrified. She looked adorable. He tried hard not to smile and hoped he was successful when she glared at him.

"Then why did you interrupt me?"

Carlos tipped his head in acknowledgment of her impersonation of him. "I deserve that."

His eyes dropped to her long, lean legs as she stepped over the couch cushions strewn around the floor so she could turn down the music. It took him a moment to remember the reason for his visit.

"So, you're here. On a Saturday. And you're wearing that."

He quirked his eyebrow up in question. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a polo with blue and white stripes that he knew brought out the blue in his eyes.

"I just meant that you're dressed. And -" she left the sentence hanging while wrapping her hands around her abdomen in a gesture of self-consciousness.

Her wild hair framed her suddenly rosy cheeks. She was perfect.

"Why are you here in my living room?"