Eithan Shaw was an ex hitman who had given up his old way of life and decided to work for the Sinclair's because they had promised him more pay to perform secretive but less deadly jobs like checking up people's background, stalking political officers and issuing warnings once in a while. He had agreed, repented, signed the contract and his life had been better ever since.

He walked into Peyton's Inn, one of the fast growing restaurants with a large working staff as soon as he landed in Concord town. His assignment had been clearly stated and expected to be executed quickly.

He took a chair in the basic lounge and keenly observed the female staff. None seemed dazzling enough, not even to his eyes. He moved over to the VIP lounge where a waitress quickly spotted him, smiled and sashayed towards his table. Even she wasn't captivating enough. She didn't spark his interest.

"It's a pretty hot day, isn't it? What can I get for you, sir?"

Eithan scanned the menu for a second then dropped it.

"Get me a good beer as a starter."

The waitress nodded and sashayed away.

Eithan scanned the female staff in the VIP area. They all looked like college girls running part time jobs. He dropped a large tip for the waitress and walked out of the building.

He took a cab and consulting his map, he instructed the driver to take him to Grill Island, yet another fast growing restaurant in the small town.

The waitresses at Grill Island were better looking and had a sense of professionalism. They all wore the same white short sleeved shirt with the restaurant name monogrammed at the upper left area over a blue skirt that stopped just above the knee. Some of the girls wore tights underneath. The few male staff he could see were also dressed smartly in the same white on blue uniform.

He chose an unoccupied table at a corner that gave him a full view of the restaurant.

The place was busy as people were trooping in to get lunch. A waitress finished with the table in front of him and came to take his order.

"Good afternoon, sir, what would you like to have?"

"A cold can of beer would do," he smiled at her while he looked her over, trying to guess her age.

"I'll be right back."

Eithan continued to stare at the waitresses.

"A cold can of beer, sir?" a voice asked from behind him.

A tall blonde girl came up to him. She was either in her late twenties or early thirties, he could tell. She smiled in such a way that he wondered if they had met sometime in the past.

"That was fast," he took the can from the small tray.

"I'll take that as a compliment, sir," she laughed lightly and he caught a glimpse of her dimple. "We work together here and pass information quite quickly to avoid delaying precious customers."

He just knew he had come to the right place, and had met the perfect person.

Her striking compassionate eyes and angelic visage could not dispute that.

"Can I have a word with you for a minute?"

She seemed disturbed. "This is a very busy hour, sir."

"Quit this whole sir thing, it seems too formal for me. Call me Eithan."

She nodded.

Eithan knew she thought of him as just another male customer trying to woo her.

"I'll wait till you're ready to clock out," he offered and the girl seemed surprised.

"That'll be by four, sir–Eithan. It surely can not be that important," she disapproved politely.

"I'll wait," Eithan said and opened the can. She turned to serve another customer and he could not but stare at her bodacious backside. He unconsciously imagined her in a swimsuit.

He would wait.

The hours passed quickly and he had spent most of the time watching her, making mental notes about what she might be like. She wasn't coquettish, but she was friendly. Modest and well trained, he could tell. Matured, responsible, organized, self controlled. He'd seen all those traits in just a few hours. She was definitely the perfect match, he thought.

The clock struck four. The restaurant was almost empty now and a new batch of girls began trooping in, possibly for their evening shift.

Eithan's eyes were focused on the large door that he believed led to the kitchen and bar and paved the way to other secluded areas in a restaurant. Moments later, she appeared wearing a flower print dress and a mauve colored blazer over it. She seemed surprised to still find him seated there. She started towards him.

"You're really patient, aren't you?" she stood above him with folded arms and looked him over. He didn't seem like one of the irresponsible men who always called out to her lustfully. His suit was well pressed and his beard was shaved clean. Maybe he did have something important to say.

"I wouldn't want to miss this wonderful opportunity," he smiled.

She adjusted her blazer. "Alright then, Mr Eithan."

"You haven't told me your name yet."

"I'm Lana. Lana Reeves."

"I have a job offer for you, Miss Reeves, a similar but better job offer, of course."

Lana cocked a brow. "Really?"

"Have you heard about the Sinclair Luxury Villa?"

"I do remember hearing something like that on the entertainment news. Why?" Eithan saw her eyes dart towards the wall clock.

He reached into his pocket and took out a card. "I work directly with the Sinclair family. There's a vacancy for an assistant for the mistress' son, the job description is to cook and clean, you'll have your weekends off unless there's an important event that requires your presence, you'll get your weekly payment every Friday and you'll be given your own house but you can decide whether or not you want to live in it or rent it out," Eithan paused. "What do you say?"

Lana's mouth remained agape for a few seconds and then she let out a short laugh that was laced with disbelief.

"You cannot be serious," she shook her head.

"It's okay if you're not willing to accept the offer, Miss Reeves, my job is just to find a lady that perfectly fits the description."

Lana realized it was really not a joke.

"Let's walk," she said. He quickly stood and followed behind as they exited the restaurant.

"So you're asking me to be a babysitter..."

"An assistant," Eithan corrected.

"...To the son of your boss, and I would be paid a whopping sum for it?"

"More like it. What matters is whether or not you're interested..." he paused as they waited on the side of the road for an oncoming car to pass.

If she agreed to this, they would both benefit from it. Mrs Sinclair had plans that she hadn't told him for sure, but the money he had received to get the job done was enough to drain out any questions he had.

He was certain he had found the right person. Just as Mrs Sinclair had wanted…