The Billionaire's Housekeeper (Betsy Jones Book 1) - Unedited

Chapter 4

"We're here, sir." A voice cut through his pleasant dreams, dragging him into wakefulness.

Peeling open his eyes, Nicholas Davenport turned his head just as his driver pulled open the car door and the rush of cool night air rushed in to greet him. With a shake of his head and a scratch at the shadow now lining his jaw, Nick clambered from the car and allowed the brisk wind to blow away the last of the cobwebs lingering in his mind.

"Do you need me for anything else tonight?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Nick shook his head at his driver. "No, you head on home. I'm working from home tomorrow so I'll call when I need you. Now get home to your wife."

He watched as the man shifted from foot to foot, his head ducking even as he closed the rear door of the car with practiced ease.

Chuckling, Nick clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulders and pushed him towards the driver's seat.  "Your partner sent me the appointment details because you forgot." He sent a glare at the young man before allowing his lips to form into a smile. "You won't want to miss these moments. Trust me on this."

With a last wave, the dark haired man strutted towards the front of his house even as the car pulled away.

He stilled however, one foot hovering over the first step, when his eyes landed upon a battered motor vehicle parked off to the far side of his driveway. Nick glared at the offensive hunk of ugly brown metal. It had to be at least fifteen years old if the registration plate was an indicator. If not the tarnished paintwork, the duct taped bumper and the missing hub caps were all badges from many years of active use.

What was it doing on the driveway? Nick certainly didn't own that piece of scrap metal and Betsy hadn't arrived in a car. Mrs Reed definitely didn't own it - she didn't even drive.

Glaring once more at the piece of scrap metal, Nick flipped out his phone and sent a quick text through to his security team before heading into his home.  It would be gone soon enough.

Immediately upon entering his home, the tired man spotted a difference. It was small. Insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Normally when he came home from work, so used to the late nights he so often kept, the house was dark and sleeping. Yet as he opened the door soft light beckoned him through the doorway. Someone had left the light on for him.

Securing the house behind him, Nicholas set the alarm and checked in with security letting them know the house was all locked up tightly. There was nothing wrong with being a little bit paranoid. Life had taught him that.

The soft murmur of the television floated through from the doorway to the lounge. Nick paused in the hallway, hesitating with his briefcase in hand.

Betsy.

She was the only one who could possibly be awake at this time. There was no chance Mrs Reed would still be up. She was like clockwork, in bed with her curlers in as soon as the closing credits of the soaps finished.

Setting his case down next to the wall, Nick ran a hand down his face to try and wipe away the last of his weariness. The nap in the car had done little to rejuvenate him. Instead he felt even more exhausted.

Peering around the edge of the doorframe, he allowed his lips to pull up into a smile at the sight which greeted him. The lounge space was large and open, decorated with his two children in mind. The walls were a non-descript magnolia, one that could be touched up from time to time when mischievous children decided to use them as a canvas. The furnishings on the other hand were all about comfort and homeliness.

Nick leant against the doorframe, his weariness getting pushed to the back of his mind as he breathed in the fresh scent of vanilla which lingered in the air. His eyes however lingered on the trio upon the sofa.