Page 2 of My Ex’s Christmas Scandal

Zander Jenson hired me months ago and thankfully hasn’t canceled. Maybe he hasn’t seen the scandal, or maybe he doesn’t care. Either way, I still have the job, which means there’s still hope of pulling out of Reid’s mess relatively unscathed.

It’s a high-paying gig, enough to cover at least the first six months of next year’s bills. Groceries, social calendars, travel, and dinner reservations. Hell, at this point, I’ll even do their laundry, as long as I’m getting paid. I’ve never met them, though I know of Jarek Eriksen, an A-list actor from New York City. The three are rumored to be best friends from college, coming to Colorado in December for a winter vacation. Zander owns the mountain estate, and I’m pretty sure Pascal Beaumont is a global CEO with business ties here in Denver.

Other than that, these clients are a blank slate—a paying blank slate I’m determined to impress from the moment I arrive. Which reminds me, December 1st is tomorrow, and I still need to pack. I will be invisible, flawless, and still employed at the end of the year. That’s the goal, and if I hit it, everything will be fine.

As if on cue, my phone rings, and my startled hand spills a drop of coffee on the contract’s top page. The caller ID makes my heart race—Zander Jenson.

I suck in a deep breath before answering. Please don’t let this be a cancellation. I need this contract.

“Hello?” I make my voice as professional as possible, even as it echoes in my own ears.

“Hello, Ms. Adler,” Zander says, his voice smooth and cool.

“Please, call me Nina,” I offer. “I was just looking over our contract, Mr. Jenson. I’m looking forward to meeting the three of you tomorrow. Is everything still on track with your travel?”

There’s a pause, and I bite my bottom lip to keep my nerves at bay.

“Yes,” he says, to my relief. “We’re looking forward to meeting you too, and our travel remains on schedule. That said, I felt it important to let you know that we have seen the press about you, Ms. Adler.”

Anxiety crawls over my skin with little feet, and it isn’t lost on me that he didn’t use my first name even after I offered it.

“Mr. Jenson.” I swallow hard. “I completely understand if the situation makes you uncomfortable. I wouldn’t want a live-in assistant embroiled in a scandal to reflect poorly on any of you. I can withdraw from our contract immediately if you’d like.”

I wait. Silence on the other end of the line is becoming my new unwelcome bedmate.

“No, it’s fine,” he says after a moment. “But if your past issues get in the way of our time there, it’s only fair to warn you that we’ll fire you on the spot.”

“Understood, sir.” I probably blurt it out too quickly, but I’m too relieved to hold it in.

There’s a small chuckle on the other end, nothing like Reid’s callous one. This one is amused, if restrained.

“No need to call me sir,” Zander replies. “It makes me feel old. And good—since we’re on the same page, everything is in order for tomorrow. I’ll text you when our flight lands. Please be at the house one hour after that.”

“Yes, Mr. Jenson. You can be assured I’m always on time.”

“Perfect. We’ll see you tomorrow then, Nina.”

As I hang up, I can’t help but notice how his voice lingers in my head when he said my name. No idea why—it’s not as if I know the guy, or want to know him beyond his role as my employer for the next month.

Actually, I don’t want to know any men after what happened with my ex. Still, something lingers as I walk to my bedroom to start packing—something that makes me shake my head to clear it.

Tomorrow, I’ll drive to the estate, meet Zander, Pascal, and Jarek, and spend the next month tending to their every need to keep my business afloat into the new year.

Who knows, maybe this contract will lead to new clients. Men like these have influence and connections. If I really wow them, it could be just what my business needs for a fresh start after the ding it took thanks to Reid.

Maybe I’ll even get a few quiet, snowy nights up there in my off time. Denver gets its share of snow, but something about the mountains over the holidays sounds festive and magical. Especially given how glamorous these clients’ lifestyle and accommodations are likely to be.

When I finish packing, I bring my laptop to bed for a quick search, hoping to find some tidbit about these three men—something I can reference to impress them right from the start.

I enter Zander’s name first, since he’s the only one I’ve spoken to, and wait for the internet to work its magic. His photo fills the first page, and Zander Jenson’s dark gray eyes cut through the screen with an intensity that matches his wealth and status.

For a second, I can’t look away. Then I snap the laptop shut and remember all the reasons I don’t trust men.

One month. I’ve got this. One month of being the best concierge these three men have ever had, then a fresh start to the new year with more money, more clients, and a focus on growing my business. All I have to do is make it through the holidays without losing this contract or becoming entangled in another scandal.

That should be easy enough.

CHAPTER 2