2_ Isabelle

The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual for whatever reason. I made my way to the penthouse, a little less enthusiast than yesterday.

The penthouse was quiet when I entered. I guess he must be in his gym. I went to the kitchen, to prepare coffee.

Once again, I felt that chill. And when I looked back, I was met with blue eyes that were glaring at me. Was this his permanent look? Or was it just with me?

"Good morning, Mr. Kingston," I greeted, my voice, thankfully steady and calm.

He didn't answer, rather just pulled a stool and sat with his phone. What's with this man? A 'good morning' wouldn't hurt, would it?

"do you need something?" he didn't reply, so I returned to my task.

I could feel his gaze on me all while I was cutting fruits and trying to make a breakfast. Does he eat breakfast? Should I ask? Will he glare at me again? I looked back at him and found him nose-deep in his phone. Best I just do it and let's see.

I sliced some fruits and fried two eggs while. Then I put the plate and the coffee mug before him. His gaze travel from the plate to my face with a kind of disgust.

"what's this?" he grumbled.

"huh… breakfast. I don't know how you like it, so I made this but if -" I was cut short when he pushed the plate off the counter and it crashed on the floor.

"did I ask you for a breakfast? And one as mediocre as this one, even?"

"I.. I am sorry, I-"

"clean this" he growled and I nodded. I kept my head down and started to clean. Maybe the breakfast wasn't good enough. I make eggs for my daughter and she's happy with it but I forgot Mr Kingston is not my daughter. I need to make a little more efforts. 'one as mediocre as this one'.

"how old are you?" he suddenly asked and I stiffened, turning to face him. Why was he suddenly interest in my age?

"hum, 24, sir"

He narrow his eyes, taking a sip of the coffee I had prepared. At least he didn't pour it in my face, I mean it can be the win for the day, right?

"Listen here, little flower," he call again and I returned my attention to him again "let's get one thing straight"

I nodded,"Yes, Mr. Kingston."

"You'll have to follow an important rule. I don't want you in my personal space"

"Yes, sir" I nodded. Not like I – don't – want to be.

He raised the mug to his lips and my gaze fall on his Adam's apple that bobbed up and down as he swallowed the coffee. The kitchen though spacious suddenly feels closed off and hot. When he's done, he put down the mug. Then turn to leave but pause at the doorway.

"And one more thing," he added, his voice ice-cold. "Stay out of my way. I want to see you as less as possible"

"Understood, Mr Kingston"

Right, I also – don't – want to see your sinfully handsome, dark, face all while I work.

Just after that he leaves me alone and able to breathe normally again.

I quickly washed the much and went upstairs to his room, to clean. Today's the first time I set foot in here. The furniture varies between black and gray. Who sleeps with black bed sheets? Seriously. The pillows are gray, the only color in this sea of darkness. The funny thing, he actually made his bed. I looked around, the large TV seemingly encrusted in the wall, with gray couches on one side, floor to ceiling windows replacing the walls, giving an exquisite view of the city below. It must be wonderful at night. Does he appreciate sight seeing?

I enter the en-suite. His perfectly clean, black tiled, spacious bathroom, was on one side. Everything here, even the tiles felt too expensive for me to walk on. The large marble bath tube – big enough for four people – and the sink were the only white in here.

Then there is his dressing on the other side. I am shocked, he actually have blue shirts. I expected it to vary between white and black. There a vanity table lined with a large mirror and bottles of – no doubt – expensive perfumes, silver and golden watches, silky ties, hair gel and a few combs. Everything was extremely well organized and this place smelled just as masculine as he looked. I could stay here and sleep, with how good, he smelled. A dark thought wandered in my mind. What if I just messed everything up just to make him pay for the breakfast? But no, he is the boss and I am the employee, I would be the one to suffer in this case.

Anyways, since everything was in order, I had nothing to do here. So I left.

That evening, when I came back from the university, the house was once again so still. I am not sure I'd get used to it. It's not like my house was noisy but at least it had a smell and warm of a home. This place is just a house.

After going around, I found, I had nothing more to clean. It helped that he was a really clean and organized man. It saved me a lot of work and time. Sebastian Kingston is not like the other men I could have worked for in the past. Messy and dirty. Urgh!

Well anyways, I made his dinner and while I was finishing, I heard the door open and close. My feet took me to the living room where I found him with a glass of whiskey, seating with his knees wide apart, his tie undid and his head fallen back as if he had a long tiring day.

"good evening, Mr Kingston" I greeted softly, not wanting to disturb. He opened his eyes and glared at me. Either he just didn't like me or it was just his way of looking at everyone.

"what are you still doing here?" he growled, greatly irritated and not doing any effort to hide.

"hum… I have to come back in the evening to make dinner and serve you if you need anything"

"dinner?" he questioned as if I was stupid. "do I look like a child?"

"no, you don't" of course he didn't. He looked like the perfect grown up man he was.

"I don't need to be looked after, your only work is to clean"

"also make breakfast and dinner" I added. "It's on the contract"

"get out of my sight" he growled.

"I will make the table"

"I mean out of my house"

"alright. I will go as soon as my task is done" I turned to leave. I picked the last dish from the kitchen and as I turned to bring it to the dinning table, I collide into him. The food pouring over his shirt.

"oh my God!" I gasped in horror as I watched his gray shirt dirty with the food. "I am… I am so sorry, Mr Kingston. I didn't see you coming, I didn't know… I am.." I stammered as I tried to clean it with my hand.

"stop touching me" he growled, stepping away.

"let me wash the shirt for you, please. I really didn't know you were… this close" he looked down at me like I was stupid and that how I felt. Why didn't I feel him coming?

"you're incapable of doing a good job." he didn't shout but his words rang through me. As I watched him unbutton his shirt one after the other. My mouth dried as I watched his chiseled chest come to view. Flutters erupted in my stomach. "Get the fuck out of my house!" his words made me jump.

"huh… I am…"

"I don't fucking want to hear another word from your mouth." he growled and walked away.

I breathed finally when he was out of sight. Looking down at the food wasted on the floor and my dirty apron. Why was he so close? If he was like two steps away I wouldn't have collided into him. Am I imagining things? I shook my head, pushing the thought aside and going to get the cleaning supplies.

Once the floor is sparkling with the last swipe of the rag, I smile contentedly.

"you're still here?" a grumbling voice made me jump and look up. Sebastian was standing over me. From my kneeling position, I looked up at him. He was not wearing a gray sweatshirt and a black Tee. Why was I feeling hot suddenly? And I needed water, urgently.

"hum.. I was just-"

"wasn't I clear enough?"

"yes, I am going now" I get up and pick my cleaning stuffs, put them back to their place before heading to the door. I glanced back at my boss and he was seating there on the couch, his nose in his phone. I turned and left, finally breathing.

Today was disastrous, I just need to go home and hug my daughter, just to find the strength for another day.