Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Adeline
The next week goes by in a blur of rushing around, trying to adjust to the new schedule my mother and I have come up with. Life has been hectic, although they haven’t actually called outside office hours. I dread the time they will, knowing it’s going to be a juggling act for me.
Walking into the office, I turn the phones over and flick on the AC, getting ready for the day. For the most part, they stay in their offices, and the only time I see them is when they need me to file something or print, or just give me random annoying tasks.
They usually start at 8AM, which after speaking to Bella, she says is strange because, for the most part, they handle a lot of the company’s business from their homes.
Apparently, the last secretary spent most of her time in the office by herself, but I have seen them every day since I started working under them, and they’ve never missed a day.
Cyrus, though, I can tell, doesn’t like being here; it has only been a week working under them, and I have discovered he has quite the temper.
“Adeline,” I hear Eli call out from his office.
My entire body tenses as I get up from my seat. My heels click on the tiled floor, and I smooth out my skirt the best I can before opening the door.
Eli raises an eyebrow at me, and I realize I have forgotten to knock.
Seriously? He calls me in here, but I still need to knock? I roll my eyes and shut the door knocking on it before breathing out, annoyed and waiting for him to answer.
“Come in,” he says.
I walk in, and his arms are folded over his chest as he stares at me with an annoyed look on his face.
“You’re not very good at listening to instructions, are you?”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him or retort sarcastically.
“What do you want?” I ask, but even my tone comes across rudely.
My mother always says it is not what you say but how you say it. I really need to work on that.
“Lose the attitude. I won’t tolerate it,” he says, leaning on his desk, his hands clasped together as he watches me under hooded eyes.
The door suddenly opens behind me, and Cyrus takes a seat on the couch next to the window overlooking the city. He braces his chin on his hand, watching our little altercation enthusiastically.
“We are leaving for Soya City. We will pick you up at 6AM tomorrow. The plane leaves early in the morning.”
Pick me up? I can’t leave. What about Maya and my mother?
“You want me to come with you?” I ask, looking between them.
“Are you not our personal assistant? Because last I checked, it was part of your job description?” Eli asks, leaning back on his chair and placing his hands behind his head.
I really should have read those documents more thoroughly.
“I can’t. I have to drop my niece off and pick her up. My mother is working tomorrow,” I tell them.
“Well, then tell your sister to pick up her own damn kid. It is hers, isn’t it?”
“Yes, SHE is, but she isn’t available either,” I tell him with a heavy emphasis on “she,” not liking the way he called my niece an “it.”
“My oh my, doesn’t she have an attitude today, Eli?” Cyrus mocks behind me.
I turn and glare at him before noticing he has moved and is now standing directly behind me. I gulp, a shiver running down my spine. He leans in closer, and my heart rate picks up.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asks, his breath fanning my lips.
Gosh, he smells good. I take a step back, looking him over, not bothering to answer his question, instead asking my own.
“No contact lenses today?” I ask, and he smirks, his eyes going to Eli.
“She is observant, though,” Cyrus says, making me furrow my brows. He doesn’t move away; instead, he steps closer, and goosebumps rise on my arms when I feel his breath on my neck.
“What time do you drop your niece off?” Eli asks, making me look at him.
“Six-thirty.”
“You drop her at school that early?” he asks with shock evident on his face.
“No, she goes to before-school care since I now start earlier here,” I tell him.
He scratches his chin. “Fine, I will organize a sitter to pick her up from school. Where does she need to go?”
“To my mother’s work at the medical practice.”
“Fine, I will organize her to be dropped to her, and we can drop her off on the way to the airport,” he says, leaving no room for argument, daring me to come up with another excuse.
“You can go home early today. We will be staying overnight, so go home and pack and send me a text once home with your niece’s details and instructions,” he says, dismissing me by waving his hand.
I internally groan; I hate flying and have managed to avoid it. I turn to walk out the door when Cyrus steps in my way, gripping my arms. He leans in, his face only inches off mine.
“And leave the attitude at home when we pick you up,” he whispers below my ear before letting me go and stepping back, a sly smirk creeping onto his face while my heart rate spikes, pounding erratically in my chest. I glare at him, stepping past him and leaving the office in a hurry.
I drive home. Getting out, I push the bins out the front to the curb for the bin man before walking toward the house and noticing the damage to my car that I have completely forgotten about.
My door all crinkled, and the white paint from the bollard has transferred all over the side of my car.
Argh, how I forgot, I had no idea. I shake my head, walking inside.
My mother is sitting in the lounge, watching TV.
“Where is Maya?” I ask when I don’t see her sitting with my mother.
“In her room. You’re home early.”
“Yeah, I am going away to Soya City for work tomorrow.”
My mother tries to protest before I hold my hand up, telling her to let me explain.
“My boss said we will drop her to before-school care on the way to the airport, and he will organize someone to pick her up and drop her off to you at the practice.”
She lets out a breath. “Okay, they seem organized. Why do you have to go on such short notice? How are you going to cope with getting on a plane?”
I shrug. I never once saw this on their schedules; it must have been a spur-of-the-moment decision.
“I have no choice, so I will just have to deal with it, I suppose.”
My mother nods. She is very aware of my fear of flying. I have refused my entire life to set foot on one of those flying death traps.
“I need to go pack,” I tell her.
“I ordered pizza for dinner. They should be here soon; I couldn’t be bothered cooking.”
“Cheesy garlic bread?” I ask, sticking my head back through the door, and she sends me a smile.
“Of course,” she says before puckering her lips and blowing me a kiss.
I smile. She knows me too well, probably better than I know myself.
I head upstairs, the thick gray carpet soft under my sore feet. Walking into my room, I flop down on my double bed, the springs groaning under my weight, when Maya rushes in, climbing on the bed and bouncing on my bed excitedly.
Sitting up, I grab the small suitcase under my bed and open it.
I toss in my pajamas and black high-waisted skirt and white blouse and a pair of heels as well as some jeans and a low-cut shirt on the off chance I’ll need something casual to wear.
Walking into my closet, I grab my little black dress and a pair of high heels for tomorrow.
I hang the dress on the back of my door and make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.
“Are you going somewhere, Aunty Ada?” Maya asks, watching me.
“Yes, and my bosses will be picking us up in the morning, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?”
She nods, chewing her little nails nervously. I pull her finger from her mouth, giving her a pointed look.
“When will you be back?”
“Someone will pick you up from the school office tomorrow to take you to grandma.”
She frowns; Maya usually takes some getting used to when it comes to trusting strangers. She is a wary child, and the people her mother let around her before we got custody of her certainly didn’t help.
“I will ask my boss if he can send a photo of the person, okay? So you know who to look for,” I tells her, and she nods sadly when I hear the doorbell downstairs.
“That would be dinner,” I tell her, standing up and holding my hand out.
She grabs it, her face lighting up into a grin. My mother paid the delivery man before walking toward us on the stairs, and we follow her down the hallway to the kitchen.
Sitting at the dining table, I send Eli a text asking if he can get a photo of the person picking up Maya, telling him she doesn’t like strangers.
He replies almost instantly with a photo of a woman with dark hair cut into a pixie cut and dark-brown eyes similar to his. She has softer features and is quite pretty with red lipstick on and a bright smile on her face; she looks friendly enough.
“That was fast,” I text back.
“It’s my sister. Her name is Emery,” he replies.
“Okay, thank you,” I send back, not expecting a reply when he sends me a winking-face emoji. I shake my head, putting my phone down and digging into my dinner.
* * *
The next morning, I bleary-eye my alarm as it screeches beside my head, signaling it is time to get up.
Smacking the thing incessantly to shut it up, I roll onto my back, stretching like a cat, my back cracking as I yawn.
I don’t want to get up; my days have been blurring into one long one that consists of only work and sleep.
Forcing myself up, I retrieve my clothes and head into the bathroom, hanging them up on the back of the door before starting the shower.
My mother knocks on the door as I am washing the soap from my hair.
“I am leaving, love. I put Maya’s clothes on the table for you,” she calls out from the other side of the door.
“Okay, see you tomorrow,” I sing back, and I hear her footsteps walk down the hall before faintly hearing the door shut.