The Erotic Secrets Of A French Maid

'I think so.' She would have liked to stay longer, but she wouldn't be able to think with him trailing her.

'I don't want to rush you.'

'No, it's okay. I've seen what I needed to.'

As they climbed the stairs up to the street, he asked, 'So, how's the house-cleaning business going?'

'It's going all right. I've cut back so that I can work on this train station project.'

'Yeah? Still cleaning Russ's place, though?'

'No. He didn't really need a housekeeper.' She slanted a glance at him, curious how he would take that news.

'Did he fire you?'

'Not really. We mutually decided that he could clean his own house.'

'Yeah, he's a neat freak. A perfectionist. I didn't know why his sister hired you in the first place. She should have known that the last thing Russ would want was someone coming in and messing with his stuff.'

'A perfectionist? Really? I didn't get that impression.' She was intrigued.

'Maybe you weren't around him long enough. He's the type of guy who can't stand loose threads, vagueness. He wants things done right, planned out. He's big on process. He wants everything to follow a process.'

'No freewheeling creativity?'

'Not if it means things aren't being ticked off the checklist on schedule. I think he believes that even art can be created according to a timeline.'

'So from your tone, I take it that you work differently?'

He grinned. 'I'm more laid-back.'

And that was the reason Russ owned a company that he'd started himself, and Kevin was only an employee. And would always be an employee.

'Oh, we're here! This is the restaurant.' Kevin opened the glass door at the end of a dismal little strip mall.

The smells as they entered did much to allay Emma's misgivings. The decor wasn't much, but the place was busy, most of the older customers Asian and speaking what she assumed to be Vietnamese. A young Asian woman greeted them in English and showed them to a table.

Emma glanced over the menu, recognized nothing, and set it aside. 'You're familiar with the food, so you can order for me. I'll eat anything except green bell peppers.'

They chatted for a minute about what to get, and then the waitress came and took their order, appearing again a minute later with iced tea for both of them.

'So is Russ hard to work for?' Emma asked as she dumped Splenda into her glass and stirred it with her straw. 'Just what do you do at his company anyway?'

'I'm a senior account manager. And Russ is great, as long as you do your job the way he thinks it should be done.'

'A micromanager?' If so, he must leave the tendency at the office. He had let her do whatever she wished these past nights and seemed to trust her to make decisions on her own.

'If he thinks things have gone off track, yeah, he spells out exactly what he thinks you should be doing.'

Emma murmured a noncommittal sound, wondering if Russ got on Kevin's case because Kevin needed a whip cracked over his head to keep from being a total screwup.

'I'll feel sorry for whoever marries him,' Kevin went on, grinning. 'He'd tell her exactly how he wanted the house kept, how the kids should be raised, which groceries to buy; probably even examine her checkbook to be sure it was balanced.'

Emma raised an eyebrow, wondering if Kevin was serious about his ideas of what wives were for. It apparently hadn't occurred to him that Russ might marry a woman who worked outside the home. It also wasn't helping her opinion of Kevin that he was all but badmouthing his boss and friend.

'But you like him, overall?' she asked.

Kevin shrugged. 'You can't not like him. I mean, the guy's a straight shooter and as determined as a Sherman tank. And he's not going to let his personal feelings get in the way of doing what he thinks is right. And he's loyal.'

'He sounds like a fine, upstanding citizen. Not very exciting, though,' she said, baiting him to say more. 'Not much of a risk taker.'

'No, James was the one who was daring, who was willing to take a gamble. That was his brother-do you know about that?'

'Yes.'

'James was the visionary, but his ideas probably wouldn't have come to much without Russ there to do the grunt work. And when their first business, usedbooks.com, started to go under, it was Russ who saw that some of their proprietary software was worth salvaging. Enough about him, though. Tell me more about this design contest.'

Emma did, keeping it as brief and impersonal as possible. She didn't want to tell Kevin about her creative struggles. He didn't give her the same sense of being an emotionally safe sounding board that Russ did.

Their salad rolls arrived while she was talking, and by the time those were finished and their enormous bowls of pho-noodle soup-had arrived she was trying to turn the conversation back to him. 'So, how's your car treating you?'

'All right. But I'm beginning to think it was a mistake. It looks too middle-aged. I'd be better off with something like that beefed-up Honda of yours.'

Til trade ya.'

He laughed. 'What type of car do you think I should get?'

'For attracting women?'

He nodded.

'It doesn't really work that way. Not if you're looking for a serious relationship. Are you?'

'I'd like to get married.' He looked at her soulfully.

'Well if that's what you want, forget about impressing women with your car. Buy one that you honestly love and are excited about. If you didn't give a rat's ass about what anyone thought of you, what would you buy? What's the first thing that comes to mind?'

'Hmm…'

'No, tell me. Now! Don't think about it.'

'A Mini.'

Emma blinked. 'One of those new Mini Coopers?' It was a chick car, even cuter than the new VW Bugs.

He nodded, looking hopeful.

'Then that's what you should get. The right woman will appreciate your choice and be impressed that you had the courage to choose what suited you, rather than the biggest, fastest penis car you could afford.'

His face colored. 'Penis car?'

She slurped up a mouthful of noodles. 'You think women can't see through a guy's car choices?' she said when she'd swallowed. 'We assume that penis cars are driven by insecure, arrogant assholes. With a Mini, though, a woman would think, 'There's a man who'd make a kind, attentive, and good-humored dad.''

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.'

'So what does your new boyfriend drive?'

She blinked. 'Er, some sort of hybrid, I think. I haven't been in it yet, though.'

'Russ has one of those.'

'Mmm?' she murmured, quickly stuffing her mouth with noodles.

'He donates to a lot of environmental causes. Sierra Club, all that. So is that the type of guy you like, one who drives a hybrid?'

She shrugged, stuffing more noodles into her mouth. He waited for her to swallow. She took her time. 'All I want to know,' she said at last, 'is that it's paid for and it runs.'

'So what does your car say about you?'

She laughed. 'That I take what I can get.' She explained about her brother and his cautious wife.