Maid For Beckett Catching The Baseball Legend’s Heart novel Chapter 33

Cole Maldini was the kind of man you weren’t supposed to stare at. He’s too sinfully beautiful to look at, and staring a made me feel small. I shouldn’t even breathe the same air as these people, but my eyes refused to cooperate and kep admiring the fine specimen before me.

He moved into the glass igloo with a slow, effortless prowl, the kind of confidence that wrapped around him like a cus made suit. He was elegant in a dangerous way–like an expensive knife displayed under soft lighting. You were meant admire it, but never touch, or you might get hurt.

His dark eyes slid over me, amused, curious… hunting.

“Andrea, right?” His voice was smooth as silt. “You’re with Beckett.”

‘With Beckett?‘ I frowned. He spoke just like Vivian, as if I weren’t just a maid to Beckett. Well, I am dammit! It’s tiring! hear his family turning our employer–employee relationship into something more.

I blinked. “Just Andi. I’m Beckett’s maid.”

Nobody said any rule about telling the truth. It was my idea to lie to that blond model. I have no intention of lying to Beckett’s family members about who I am to him.

He smiled, and I think I just died. There’s something about this man; his allure is much more dangerous than Beckett’s his beauty is his sharpest weapon. “Maid?” He frowned. “Are you now?”

I frowned at him, offended; he raised his hand, shaking his head. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that Beckett does having people around, especially the ones who would touch his things.”

I tilted my head to the side, sighing. “I know. He made sure I knew that since day one.”

Cole chuckled. Even his laughter sounded exquisite. He stepped further into the igloo, crossing the couchery and towards the cabinet on the side that I didn’t even notice was there before. He pulled out a bottle of wine and ven then he offered one to me.

I accepted it with a nod. He took the seat across from me and sipped his wine Beckett and I do play here memory crossing his mind. Norio built this place just for the two of us

I glanced around the igloo imagining young Heskelt and Cube spending time together in this

une ple

Cole Balf leaned bat perched against the couh begroes like he may sending in to trudy the you find my win fer?

I parted before I could up get you who the truth at the total bet

Lole Hues his hand

Fi

8:57 pm

Chapter 33

Cole spoke as if Beckett were in the room, as if there had been an incident in the past that tested their bond. I wanted into what it was, but I really didn’t want to know Beckett and Cole any deeper.

This family is not my people. Once my work is done, I would forget all about them, and I doubt they’d even remembe

existed.

Cole snapped out of his thoughtful look, his eyes gleaming with interest. “I heard you can cook. Did you have any prop training?”

My ears perked. “Oh No,” I shook my head. “I’m just a home cook.”

His eyebrows creased. “Really? Did you know that Zia Vivian is a chef?”

My eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. I mean, I shouldn’t even be surprised, right? But she ate the food I made!

“And she can’t stop gushing about how good breakfast had been at Beckett’s place. To be complimented by Zia is a big thing,” Cole said. “She’s the reason Beckett has a particular taste in food,” he added, a smile tipping his lips. “He doesn’t junk food and fast food because Zia set a high standard.”

My chest was heating up. I remember Beckett eating the food I made for him and coming to our trailer home and eatin Mom’s waffles. “I’m flattered, then.”

“Anyway… Have you heard about Casa Maldini?”

I shook my head. It sounded expensive, though.

“It’s a restaurant chain the family owns. I’m opening a branch here in Brighton City,” he smiled. “If you ever decide you’v had enough of Beckett’s attitude, you can come work for me,” he said so casually, as if he didn’t just hand me a chance to work at a fine dining restaurant. “And talented people are hard to find. If you ever want to work for me… I’ll make room.”

My heart karate chopped my breast bone. Working at a Maldini restaurant? Is this even real? Why would he offer somethi like this? I can’t help but doubt his intentions, but I have to admit, his offer is too damn tempting for me to decline.

“That’s… really kind,” I managed to say. “But you don’t even know if I’m a good cook.”

Cole raised both hands with a playful surrender. “Fair enough. Why don’t we make arrangements for your evaluation then

His offer is too tempting, but I still have three weeks to earn the money Siobhan sent to my account, so I smiled gratefully Cole. “I’ll think about it.”

Cole nodded, his smile shifting, warmer on the surface, colder underneath. As if the time to be nice is done, he sat up taller and tipped his chin up. “Andi,” he said, sounding purposeful, “I didn’t come here by accident”

A chill skated down my spine.

“Nana sent me to fetch you. She wants to talk”

My blood froze. “N–Nana Lucy? Beckett’s grandmother?”

“The very same He pushed off the seat, grabbed the glasses, and placed them on the table, stepping aside for me to stand, “She’s waiting”

My nerves skyrocketed. My heart hammering, palms sweating. The infamous Nana Iney. The woman everyone warned me about. The woman Beckett feared enough to drag me to an iglon and forbid me from speaking to her

Oh God.

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8:57 pm 04

Chapter 33

10 voucher

I followed Cole out of the igloo, each step feeling like I was marching toward my own execution. The mansion loomed ov us as he led me inside–golden lights casting long shadows across marbled floors.

He brought me to a heavy double door. “She’s in the study,” he said.

The moment I stepped inside, my breath caught.

The room wasn’t a study. It was a kingdom.

Floor–to–ceiling bookshelves filled with leather–bound volumes lined the walls. Antique paintings hung between them, ea one lit by warm sconces. The fireplace crackled softly, casting the room in an amber glow.

A massive mahogany desk occupied the center, its surface littered with documents, wine, and a crystal ashtray. And behin the desk sat Nana Lucy.

She was in her late sixties, but she wore age like a crown. Snow–white hair pinned in a regally messy bun. Red lipstick. Eye sharp enough to make someone tell the truth without even forcing them to. Her emerald silk dress draped elegantly arou her shoulders like some old–world royalty.

“Andrea,” she greeted, voice smooth but firm. “Come in. Sit.”

I obeyed. Because really–who would dare disobey her?

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