She sniffed and gave him a sad look. “I can’t just hang out with you all day, Loch. I need to find another job—”
“I’ll hire you,” he volunteered. “How much do you want to make?”
Her sniffles changed to confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ll hire you. You can be my assistant while I’m here.”
“Do . . . do you need an assistant? I thought you said you were going to try and be more independent?”
Funny how any thoughts of being independent went out the window the moment she started crying. “I’m sure there’s things you can do for me. You can . . . you can get my laundry for me.”
“There’s maids that bring it to the room.”
Oh. He cast around for another idea. “You can help me pick out an apartment if I’m going to be staying here long-term.”
“You hire a Realtor to do that.”
“Taylor,” he chided. He took her hands in his. “Trust me when I say I have lots of need for an assistant, all right? If it’ll make you happier, think of it as a paid companion. I get bored easily and need entertainment, and you can help me with that.”
Her brows furrowed. “Are we still going to be sleeping together?”
“God, yes.”
“Then doesn’t that make me a hooker?”
He groaned. “Can you stop overanalyzing things? I’ll come up with something for you to do, all right? You need a job, I can give you a job. Do we need to look beyond that?”
She thought for a moment, then gave him a worried look. “I’d need to make at least twenty an hour to cover my rent and expenses. That’s how much I made at my old job.”
Yeah, and he’d seen her tiny, ridiculous apartment. “Then I will pay you twenty-five dollars an hour.”
She gasped, her eyes lighting up. “For just being your friend?”
“That’s right.”
“Loch.” She reached out and took his hand in hers. “You realize I’d be your friend for free, right?”
“Taylor,” he said in the same gentle voice. “You realize I’d give you barrels of money if you’d just stop crying?”
Her soft chuckle made him feel better. “Can you afford an employee?”
“Oh, I’m certain of it. I have several of them back home.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You do? I thought you said you sold your manor house.”
“I did. I have an Italian villa now. I only have . . .” He paused, counting. “Ten servants now.”
“Ten?”
“Just the bare minimum,” he assured her.
Her jaw dropped.
“I’m quite sure I can afford eleven.” Although, thinking of his conversation with his cousin Griffin earlier, he worried a little. Maybe he didn’t have as much money as he thought? Maybe he was frittering away his fortune and not realizing it? “Let’s call my accountant, shall we?”
“That’s one of the ten, I assume?”
He nodded.
“All right.” Taylor’s expression was dubious, as if she didn’t quite believe any of what he was telling her.
Well, he rather hoped he wasn’t lying. That would be damned awkward. He retrieved his cell phone, put it on speaker, and then dialed his accountant.
It was late overseas, and he worried that no one would answer. After four rings, though, the other line picked up. “This is Bertram. How can I help, my lord?” The man sounded sleepy, as if he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Good evening,” Loch said, glancing at Taylor. “I hope this isn’t a bad time?”
“No, not at all, my lord. Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I was just wondering how much money I have?”
There was a long pause. “I . . . I don’t understand the question, my lord? Do you mean in petty cash? Or . . . ?”
“I mean in general. How much money?” Was he not asking right? Damn. “Just a ballpark figure will be fine.”
At his side, Taylor bit her lip, and the worried look returned.
“Well,” Bertram began. “The number fluctuates on trades, of course, and I can’t give you a specific dollar amount but I guess . . . ballpark, you said? One point two billion, give or take.”
He nodded, then looked over at Taylor. “More than enough for another servant?” he asked Bertram.
“Er, yes? I mean, a lot of that is tied up in assets and bonds, and investments and the like, but you can afford twenty more servants if you truly wanted, my lord. I . . . Is there something I can help you with?”
Loch looked over at Taylor. She shook her head swiftly, her eyes wide. He turned back to his phone. “No, nothing else. I was just curious. Thank you! Have a nice evening.”
“I . . . Of course, my lord. You have a nice evening, too.” Bertram sounded mystified.
Loch hung up and looked over at Taylor. “You see? He says there is plenty of money.”
Her mouth parted and she just shook her head at him slowly. “You’re a freaking billionaire, Loch.”
He frowned. She made it sound like it was a bad thing. “And?”
“Oh my god! How did you not know you were a billionaire?”
He shrugged. “I don’t pay much attention to money. As long as everything is handled, I’m happy.” But he remembered his frustrations with how sheltered he’d been. “It’s one of the things I’m working on changing,” he added. An idea occurred to him. “You can be my independence consultant.”