The millionaire took pity on the beautiful homeless girl and hired her as a caregiver for his disabled father…
«I don’t like when people start making excuses and complaining about unfair fate. Father always said—life is unfair by definition. ‘Get used to it and move on,'» Veronica said with a slight smile.
«Your father was a wise man,» Constantine responded unexpectedly warmly. «Good that Ethan decided to help you. I’m very grateful for that,» Veronica looked at the younger Sinclair.
«And I’ll try to justify your trust.» Ethan finished his tea and stood. «I need to get back to work.»
«Veronica, when you’re done with tea, please go down to the hall. Anna Paulson will show you your room and give you a tour of the house.» «All right, Ethan.»
«And call me just Ethan,» he added with a slight smile. We don’t stand on such formality here among… He hesitated, among our own.
When the door closed behind him, Constantine snorted. «Among our own, huh?» «Interesting.» Veronica chose not to comment on that remark.
«Please tell me about your daily routine and doctor’s prescriptions,» she changed the subject. «I need to know to organize your care properly.» «Here we go,» the old man sighed, but without real irritation.
«Well, listen. I wake up at seven in the morning, without an alarm—habit. Breakfast at eight.
Then medications, a whole set of pills prescribed by that quack Klein. At ten, light exercise, then an hour of reading. Lunch at one, after that mandatory rest.
Dinner at seven in the evening, and by ten I’m usually in bed.» Veronica listened attentively, mentally planning her work. Despite the grumbling tone, it was clear Constantine was organized and disciplined, so there shouldn’t be issues with the routine.
After tea, she bid farewell to the elder Sinclair and went down to the hall, where Anna Paulson was waiting, a woman in her sixties with a kind face. «Come along, dear, I’ll show you your room,» said the housekeeper, leading Veronica down the corridor to the west wing of the house. Ethan Sinclair instructed to prepare the blue guest room for you.
It’s one of the best rooms, with a view of the garden. The blue guest room turned out to be a spacious bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. Furnished tastefully but without excess luxury, it looked cozy and comfortable.
The large window indeed overlooked the garden, and the bed with fresh linens beckoned after three sleepless nights. «Settle in, rest,» said Anna Paulson. Dinner at seven in the evening, dining room on the first floor.
Ethan Sinclair asked me to tell you he’ll see you in his study after dinner. «Thank you,» Veronica said sincerely. The housekeeper softened.
Ethan Sinclair is a good man, though strict. And Constantine Sinclair? Well, he’s a challenging patient, but if you find the right approach, everything will be fine. When Anna Paulson left, Veronica collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion.
The fatigue of the last days hit with renewed force. She kicked off her shoes, stretched out on the coverlet, and closed her eyes. Just for a minute, she told herself—just a little rest.
Veronica woke to a gentle knock on the door. The room was already dim with twilight. She sat up abruptly, not immediately realizing where she was.
«Yes, come in,» she called, hastily smoothing her disheveled hair. A young maid appeared in the doorway. «Sorry to wake you,» the girl said.
Anna Paulson asked me to remind you that dinner is in 20 minutes. «Thank you.» Veronica hesitated, not knowing the maid’s name.
Mary, the girl introduced herself with a slight smile. The bathroom is through that door, towels and all toiletries are there. «If you need anything, press the call button,» she pointed to the panel by the bed.
When the door closed behind Mary, Veronica hurried to the bathroom. A hot shower washed away the fatigue and tension of recent days. Changing into a fresh blouse—luckily not too wrinkled—she went down to the dining room, following the housekeeper’s directions.
At the huge dining table, set for 20 people, sat only three: Ethan Sinclair, his father, and an elderly woman with aristocratic features whom Veronica hadn’t been introduced to. «Ah, here’s our new employee,» greeted the elder Sinclair. «Did you sleep well?» Veronica blushed.
«I’m sorry, I didn’t plan to fall asleep.» «Simply—» «No apologies,» Ethan interrupted her.
«You needed rest.» «Have a seat. Allow me to introduce my aunt, Elizabeth Sinclair.»
The elderly lady nodded graciously. «Pleased to meet you, dear. Ethan told me about your situation.
Very sad. But you’ll be safe here.» Dinner passed in relaxed conversation.
Elizabeth Sinclair, Constantine’s sister, turned out to be a former opera singer and an engaging conversationalist. She spoke of her tours in Europe, meetings with famous people, amusing incidents from theater life. For the first time in a long while, Veronica felt calm and comfortable.
After dinner, as agreed, she went to Ethan Sinclair’s study to discuss her duties. Sinclair was waiting, reviewing some documents at his massive desk. «Have a seat, Veronica,» he offered, setting aside the papers.
«How do you like my father? Will it be hard to work with him?» «I think we’ll find common ground,» she replied confidently. Constantine Sinclair has a strong character, but that’s even good for recovery after a stroke. The key is the right approach.
Sinclair nodded satisfied. «That’s why I offered you this job. You’re not only a qualified nurse but also seem to have the necessary human qualities.»
He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a folder. Here are all my father’s medical documents, test results, doctor’s orders. «Please review them.»
Veronica took the folder and skimmed the contents. «Tomorrow at 10 a.m., Dr. Klein will come for a routine checkup,» Sinclair continued. He’s my father’s attending physician, competent though a bit pedantic.
Father doesn’t like him, but it’s more a matter of personalities. «I’ll be present at the checkup if you don’t mind,» Veronica said. «I need to speak with the doctor personally to better understand the patient’s condition.»
«Of course,» Ethan nodded. Now about practical matters. Your salary will be…
He named a sum that made Veronica’s eyes nearly widen. It was three times what she earned at the clinic. Payments weekly, cash or to your card, whichever you prefer.
Living and meals, naturally, at my expense. Day off Monday; on that day, Elizabeth will be with father. If any problems or questions arise, come directly to me.
Thank you, Veronica thanked sincerely. This is a very generous offer. I value professionalism, Sinclair replied simply.
And besides, in memory of Nicholas, I must take care of you. He paused, as if deciding whether to continue, but added, do you have questions. Veronica thought.
There was something that interested her, but she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask. If it’s not a secret. Do you live alone? I mean, do you have a family.
Sinclair’s face froze for a moment, pain flickering in his eyes. My wife Marina died five years ago. Inoperable aggressive cancer.
And my daughter? He faltered, my daughter died in a car accident a year and a half ago. I’m sorry, Veronica said quietly. I didn’t mean to reopen wounds.
It’s okay, Sinclair ran a hand over his face, as if wiping away emotions. It’s part of life that must be accepted. He stood, signaling the conversation was over.
Rest, Veronica. Tomorrow is an important day for you. Returning to her room, Veronica couldn’t sleep for a long time, despite the fatigue.
Too many events in one day, her life had changed too abruptly. The comfortable bed, clean sheets, roof over her head—all seemed almost unreal after days on the street. And yet something bothered her.
The mention of Sinclair’s deceased daughter tugged at some thought, some vague memory, but she couldn’t grasp it. Maybe in the morning, with a fresh head. With that thought, Veronica finally sank into deep, dreamless sleep.
The morning began with bright sunlight flooding the room through undrawn curtains. Veronica woke refreshed and full of energy. The clock showed six-thirty—perfect time to prepare for the workday.
After a quick shower, she put on a formal dress she’d saved for special occasions and applied light makeup. Hair gathered in a neat bun—professional nurse habit. In the dining room, she found only Constantine Sinclair, already breakfasting alone.
«Good morning!» she greeted the elderly man. «How do you feel today?» «How can an old man with a half-paralyzed body feel?» he grumbled, but without real anger. «Sit down, eat.»
«Anna Paulson bakes excellent croissants.» Veronica sat at the table, and the maid promptly served her a cup of aromatic coffee and a basket of pastries. «Ethan always eats early and heads to the office,» Constantine explained, noticing her looking around.
And Elizabeth likes to sleep in. «So mornings are usually just me.» «Now not alone,» Veronica smiled.
«I get up early.» «That’s good,» the old man nodded. «I can’t stand staff lounging in bed till noon.
Back in my day…» And he launched into reminiscences of his youth, the strict discipline at enterprises then, how he started his business back in the old days. Veronica listened with genuine interest; Constantine turned out to be an excellent storyteller.
After breakfast, she helped him with morning hygiene and medications. Then they went to the garden for a light morning walk. Constantine moved with a cane but quite confidently for his condition.
«You’re making great progress in recovery,» Veronica noted, observing his movements. «Many stroke patients don’t get out of bed for months.» «I’ve got a strong constitution,» the old man replied proudly.
«Lifelong sports, no drinking, no smoking.» «And besides, I’m not one to give up.» At 10 o’clock, as promised, Dr. Klein arrived, a lanky man about 50 with pedantic manners.
He examined Constantine, measured blood pressure, checked reflexes. «Progress is evident,» he reported, finishing the exam. «But you still need to avoid overexertion, Mr. Constantine Sinclair, and follow the diet.»
«Yes, yes, no salt, no fat, no sweets.» «No everything that makes life enjoyable,» the old man grumbled. «Tell me when I can return to work instead.» «It’s too early to talk about that,» Klein replied cautiously…
