New crisis

The loud slience was driving him crazy,

"It's uh... Hillary... right?? '

" Yes... Sir"

" Right" a pause. "About earlier... I didn't mean it like that"

Liar! That was exactly how he meant it.

She wasn't dumb, he was trying to apologise.

He glanced at her then back on the road.

No need to make it hard for him' she thought.

"It's alright... You probably get that a lot" she replied hesitantly. She tried to laugh but couldn't. At least she still kept her job.

"You sound to educated to be a maid, no accent  but very fluent English" he complemented. She glanced at him then she couldn't stop staring. He was a sight to see.

"Why are you a maid?"

She was taken aback. He glanced at her and she lowered her eyes as if afraid to see him watching her.

"That's my job, I need the money, sir"

For a reason she calling him Sir annoyed him slightly.

He swerved and she fell towards him, drawn back by the seat belt but she inhaled his scent, smell of seawater and lavender.

She blushed foolishly.

She glanced at him, he met her gaze, her heart skipped a beat.

"Am I that handsome?" He asked, chuckling gently, Hillary looked away. He made her feel so shy.

"Yes sir, you are" she muttered towards the window but he heard. Damien looked at her from the side mirror.

' I could say the same ' he thought.

***            ***              ***            ***            ***

Anderson was watching a match when she came in, He sprang up and hugged her, his hands roaming.

"Anderson, I brought a cheque" she said distracting him, creating a little space.

"Ain't need no cheque!!" "I need cash n the boys bin waiting!" He complained.

Banging the door, he left.

Hillary looked around, the place was terrible.

After packing her jade brown hair, she set to work.

Hillary, shy n petite, was twenty four but looked younger. She was five feet and two inches, has a slender but bold body.

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He stared at the cheque. Taylor Logistics. Xavier had signed her a cheque worth her salary... Why?

He wondered if he should ask Xavier. Yes he should know what's happening.

His phone rang. Xavier.

"Damien, she didn't make it" Xavier's voice rang out. Damien paused then realized what Xavier meant.

" We lost her?" Damien asked again, sadly.

"Sadly, Maralie is dead"

A long silence. Maralie Parker was her full name, one of the highest paid models in America. She was the Model for Taylor Cosmetics Advertisements. She has been struggling with throat cancer.

Maralie. She was a lovely person.

"Damien... We'll need a new model, we have a new product"

"It can wait till after her final rest, can't it?? "

" I suppose"

" Good"

Damien pinched his temples and sighed.

" After then call in some professionals I'll interview them at home"

He threw his phone on sitter. He needed a drink, anything. A tequila would suffice. He's bar wasn't filled yet. He sighed then reversed.

He forgot about the cheque.

"Why don't you kick her out and I in?"

Sandra suggested, Anderson smirked , handing her a drink he replied, "No she's mine"

Sandra rolled her eyes.

He poured another drink, "let's dance"

Both of them hit the dance floor. Damien entered the club and examined it, rogue and insecure, then he didn't care.

'Few drinks, that's all' he thought.

He adjusted his newly gotten face cap

Publicity not needed.

He took a seat, the grumpy looking bartender raked him a look then whistled lightly.

"You ain't from this parts are ya?"

Damien nodded,

"I can't tellin' ya yes from No" the old man replied cleaning a glass.

" What's ya order... Beer... Seawater... India rum?? "

" You got tequila? "

" Hell"the Man replied and Damien scoffed. What was he thinking... Coming to a place like this??

The Man grunted, holding a bottle of tequila.

"Bin keepin' this for someone with value" he laughed.

Damien narrowed his eyes, weighing the quality. Then he smiled, the Old man was genuinely happy.

"I'll take a shot"

A chubby guy took seat beside him.