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his back. The cook places a ham and cheese omelet in front of him, and a pitcher of orange juice with two glasses.
    The cook then places an omelet in front of me.
    “Please enjoy,” his Italian accent is thick and his smile is lovely.
    I take a small bite of the omelet that’s placed in front of me and my eyes roll in the back of my head. It is the most delicious thing I’ve eaten in quite a while.
    “Good?” the cook asks.
    I nod my head. “Yes, this is delicious. Better than any omelet I’ve tried to make. The eggs are so fluffy and light.”
    “Yes, James is the best personal cook there is,” Archer says with a smile. “I was lucky to snatch him up when I did.”
    I stick another forkful of the omelet in my mouth and nod my head up and down.
    “Yes, you’re right about that. This is heaven on earth. The man can do wonders.”
    We finish our breakfast in silence, and James comes and clears the dishes off the table when we’re done.
    After James has left the room, I look over at Archer and he’s staring at me.
    It doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.
    The way he looks at me sends tingles down my spine and I just want him to keep staring at me just like that.
    But then the nurse in me kicks in.
    This is a professional gig and I have to remain professional.
    I will not be seduced by his money.
    I am a professional.
     
     
     

Chapter 9

 
     
     
     
    I have to try to maintain as much professionalism as I can, even though we are in a less than professional environment.
    “Since you got to learn some stuff about me yesterday, tell me a little bit about yourself,” I say to him. “I think it’s only fair that I get to know the man that I’m working for.”
    “What do you want to know?” he asks. “Like you, I am an open book.”
    “Whatever you want to tell me. Like how was your childhood? How was it like growing up rich? Did you have a lot of rich friends? Go a lot of amazing places? You know, stuff like that.”
    “My childhood wasn’t all that great,” Archer’s eyes drop downward, “At least not in the way that people think that rich kids childhoods are.”
    “You must have had some good things in your childhood. You could afford anything you wanted.”
    “The only place I remember being happy – truly happy – was at the fun park. When I was there, it didn’t matter how lonely I was. It didn’t matter that I had no friends. All that mattered was the fun. That was the only time in my childhood that I remember being truly happy.”
    “The fun park?”
    “I have amazing memories of that place. I still go there some times and it still makes me smile. It was the only time I felt great in my childhood.”
    “Was it the rides that made you so happy?”
    “It was everything about the place. The rides, the colors, the joy of everyone else. I hold those memories so tightly because that was highlight of my life.”
    “Really?”
    “Our family had money but my parents were never around. I grew up really lonely. I am an only child and I wasn’t allowed out of the house much. The only people I had to keep me company were the nanny and the maids.”
    “Doesn’t sound fun.”
    “It wasn’t. Sometimes they would bring their kids along but for the most part I was alone. Sure they bought me everything that I wanted, but it didn’t do much to help with the loneliness.”
    “Loneliness sucks. How did you deal with it?”
    “When I became a teenager I started to drink.”
    “And you never stopped?”
    His eyes jump at my accusation, but then they drop again.
    “After this last incident, I am starting to see that I may have a problem.”
    “ May have a problem?”
    He shrugs his shoulders.
    “I’ve worked as a nurse with alcoholics before,” I mention, “And the first step is always admitting that you have a problem.”
    He sighs and then nods, “I do have a problem. I have been trying to stop drinking for six months now, but every time I stop, I start again.”
    “Breaking an