Maid for Love (14 page)

"You heard me. He's got it bad for you."

"He does not."

"I've known him a long time, Maddie. I've never seen him look at any woman the way he looks at you."

Unable to process that tidbit on top of all the other emotions storming around inside her, Maddie shifted Thomas onto her shoulder and used her good hand to burp him.

Libby perched on the end of the bed. "He's one of the best guys I know. You'd be a very lucky girl to end up with him."

"It'll never happen." Why was she even bothering to have this conversation? Like her "relationship" with Mac, it was pointless. "Linda McCarthy will never allow her golden boy to end up with the likes of me."

Libby laughed. "The McCarthy brothers have made a blood sport of defying their mother all their lives. If she doesn't like you, that'll make you even more attractive to him."

"Great, that's just what I need—a guy who wants me only because his mother hates me."

"That's not the only reason he wants you."

"Right. He wants the same thing every other guy wants."

"You'll underestimate him if you think that poorly of him, Maddie. Look at what he's gone to do for you today. Do you think just
any
guy would do that?"

Maddie hated to admit that Libby had a point, but she wasn't about to convince one of his oldest friends that she didn't believe his intentions were entirely honorable. "You really don't have to stay if you have other stuff to do."

Libby reached for Thomas. "There's nothing I'd rather do."

Mac couldn't believe it had finally happened to him, but he suspected he'd probably fallen in love with Maddie at some point in the last twenty-four hours. Since he'd never been in love before, he couldn't say for sure. But he hadn't ever felt anything even close to what happened to him when she looked at him with those caramel eyes that gave away her every emotion, especially those she didn't want him to see.

He'd never given much thought to being a father. He'd just assumed that, like the true love other people went crazy over, it wasn't going to happen for him, and he'd been fine with that. But now he was imagining playing baseball with Thomas and teaching him how to fish and drive a boat and throw a football. How could it have happened so fast? That was the part he didn't get.

After nearly thirty-five entanglement-free years, here he was wrapped in a net so tight it should've been strangling him. Instead, as he steered the bike toward North Harbor, all he felt was exhilaration and determination to do whatever it took to make it work. She said she didn't want it—didn't want
him
—but he'd show her how wrong she was. He knew she felt the same way about him. He
knew
it. Now he just had to find a way to convince her that his intentions were sincere.

A stab of fear nearly knocked him off the bike. What if he couldn't do it? What if she was just too scarred from past hurts to take a chance on him? What if he'd waited all this time to find her only to lose her before he ever had her? That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it.

Shaking off those unpleasant thoughts, he took a right turn into the hotel parking lot.

On the spacious front porch, decorated with white wicker furniture and pots that exploded with colorful, fragrant blooms, guests enjoyed morning coffee and a pristine view of North Harbor. Entering the hotel was like taking a step back in time: dark paneling on the walls and ceiling, potted palms, Victorian-era furniture and well-worn carpet. Large ceiling fans kept the harbor breeze moving through the lobby, dining room and lounge that made up the spacious first floor.

A sweeping staircase led to the second floor, and from that a small stairway took guests to the third floor. No elevators, no air conditioning and not a television or telephone to be found. Mac's mother, who managed the hotel, believed in providing a place where guests could truly escape the rigors of modern-day life.

Mac bounded downstairs to the housekeeping department. The smell of laundry detergent and the whir of washing machines and dryers greeted him as he made his way to Ethel's office at the end of the long hallway.

She was just as he remembered her—wiry build, wrinkled face, a row of studs lining one ear and dyed red hair that looked like it had been shocked into standing straight up. Mac and his brothers used to speculate endlessly about her sexuality. Grant was convinced she was a lesbian, but Adam swore he once saw her making out with a guy on the town beach. That comment had brought about much moaning, groaning and eye scrubbing.

Ethel lumbered to her feet to greet him with a fierce hug. As always, she reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" she asked in that raspy smoker's voice that Evan imitated so well.

"How are ya, Ethel?"

"Oh, you know, arthritic and constipated. Nothing new."

Mac winced at the information overload. Grant would howl when he heard that one.

"What brings you down to the bowels?"

Interesting choice of words
, he thought, suppressing an inappropriate chuckle. "I'm filling in for Maddie Chester today." Over Ethel's shoulder, he spied the time clock. "I need to punch in on her card."

Ethel stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "You can't be serious."

"Sure am. I knocked her off her bike by accident yesterday. She's banged up pretty bad and can't work. All she's worried about is losing her job, so I told her I'd cover for her until she can get back to it."

"But, you… You can't! Your people own this place. What will folks say?"

"What do I care?"

"Your mother will care."

"That's her problem." Mac stepped around Ethel, found Maddie's timecard and punched in. "Now, where am I supposed to be?"

They engaged in a visual standoff, but Mac refused to blink.

Finally, Ethel said, "I'll need to shift some things around."

"Whatever Maddie normally does is fine. No special treatment."

Mac couldn't believe that Ethel actually looked guilty and wondered what that was all about. He joined the other housekeepers, who were filling gigantic baskets in a crowded stockroom. He met Betty, Sylvia, Patty, Sarah, Maude and Daisy, all of whom were wearing yellow dresses and white aprons. Maddie would look some kind of sexy in that getup, he thought before pushing the image aside and focusing on the filling of the baskets. Mac wondered how some of them managed to carry the heavy load up three flights of stairs. He wondered how Maddie did it.

Ethel handed out room assignment sheets to the women and Mac. As he scanned the long list, it suddenly occurred to him that this was not going to be as easy as he'd thought.

"This is Mac," Ethel said begrudgingly. He noted she didn't mention his last name, which was just as well. "He's filling in for Maddie, who'll be out a couple days."

The other women, who ranged from twenty to sixty, gave him the once-over with a mixture of curiosity and blatant interest.

A young blonde sidled up to him. "What's wrong with Maddie?" she whispered as Ethel continued to bark out orders and reminders about Sunday changeover and DNA.

Keeping his voice down, Mac gave her the abbreviated version of the story.

"So you're filling in for her? That's so nice." She lowered her voice even further. "No one's ever nice to Maddie. It makes me really mad. She's the sweetest girl."

"Yes, she is," Mac said, touched by the tiny woman's loyalty to Maddie. It warmed him to know she had at least one friend on the island.

"Daisy!" Ethel barked. "Are you listening to me?"

Daisy quaked in her sneakers. "Yes, ma'am."

"Take room 303 from Mac's list," Ethel said.

"It must be bad," Daisy whispered to him. "Maddie always gets the grossest rooms."

Mac fumed when he heard that. Things were going to change around here after today. "That's not necessary, Ethel," he said. "I've got it."

Daisy glanced up at him with an expression of awe and fear. Apparently, no one dared to cross the mighty Ethel. To hell with that. His parents owned the place. She couldn't intimidate him.

"I want Daisy to do it."

"I'll do it."

Another visual standoff. Again, Mac refused to blink.

"Fine," Ethel said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Have at it. Get to work, everyone."

Daisy took pity on him and helped him stock his basket. By the time he had everything he needed to clean the ten rooms on his list, he could barely lift the thing. He watched in amazement as Daisy lifted hers, propped it on her shoulder and headed for the stairs.

By the time he reached the third floor, his back was breaking and sweat rolled down his forehead.
How does Maddie do this?
The hallway was stifling, and the lack of air-conditioning promised to make for a long, uncomfortable day. He decided to start with what promised to be the worst room on his list—303. On the ring of keys he'd been given, he found the one he needed, took a deep breath and opened the door to hell.

The smell smacked him in the face, making him gag. Someone had puked all over one of the two beds, bottles and cans littered the floor and the bathroom floor was flooded. "Holy DNA," he muttered as he put a hand over his mouth and nose and rushed in to throw open the windows. As his stomach fought back a retch, his foot skidded on something. He looked down at a discarded condom on the floor. "Oh my God."

Mac turned to find Daisy standing at the door, looking sympathetic. "Maddie always gets these rooms."

"Not anymore."

Daisy glanced over her shoulder as if she was worried that Ethel might appear any second. "I'll help you."

"You don't have to. You've got your own rooms to deal with."

"None of mine come close to this. Maddie's my friend, and you're doing her a favor, so let me help you."

Since Mac had no idea where to even begin, he sent her a grateful smile. "Thanks. I owe you one."

B
y the time Mac opened the door to his tenth and final room, he could safely say he'd never worked harder in his life. Even with Daisy's help, room 303 had taken two hours and all of Mac's plumbing skills to restore it to pristine condition. Daisy told him that guests who left such messes were permanently banned. Unfortunately, there were plenty of others just like them looking for a place to bust loose for a summer weekend.

When he saw nothing too gross or out of the ordinary in the last room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He'd already had enough contact with foreign DNA to last a lifetime. As he stripped the bed and quickly remade it, he decided something had to be done about the deplorable way Maddie was treated here. No wonder she'd called her employers bastards. They were!

"Having fun, darling?"

Speak of the devil. His mother leaned against the doorframe. "I'm having a blast."

"This is entirely inappropriate, but of course you know that."

"How's it inappropriate for me to help a friend?"

"She's not your friend! You just met her yesterday, for heaven's sake."

"Be careful, Mother. I'm not a child who needs you to define friendship for me."

"I just don't understand this, Mac. Why in the world would you want to lower yourself to" —she waved her hand around— "this … just to prove a point to me."

He stopped what he was doing to stare at her, incredulous. "It's got nothing to do with you! God, you're unbelievable! You think everything revolves around you."

"I think no such thing."

"What I want to know is why Maddie gets all the crappiest rooms. Did that direction come right from you? Or does Ethel do that on her own?" He glanced at her in time to catch her guilty expression. "That ends today. Do you hear me?"

"You can't come in here and start barking out orders."

"Do you want my help at the marina?"

She had the good grace to at least squirm a little. "You know I do."

"Then you'll make sure she's treated fairly here from now on, or I swear to God, I won't lift a hammer down the street." He had no intention of making good on that threat, because he planned to help his father no matter what. But he could let her think that he'd walk away if it meant improving Maddie's situation.

"I can't imagine what's gotten into you to talk to me like this."

"I've gotten an eyeful of the way you treat one of your employees today, and I don't care for it."

"She's gotten her hooks into you, hasn't she?"

He released a short bark of laughter as he ran the duster over the tables and dresser. "I wish."

"What does that mean?"

"She doesn't seem all that interested in me."

Linda expelled what sounded like a sigh of relief. "Oh, well, that's good, I suppose."

Mac whirled around to face her. "No, it isn't. I like her. I really
like
her."

"Don't be ridiculous. You could have any woman you want. Just this morning, I talked to Doro Chase. She can't wait to meet you."

"What're you talking about?"