Chapter 13
The sun hit my face, and my eyes popped open like a doll's. Bling!
I sat up in the giant King-sized bed. The space beside me was empty. Cold. Desolate. Like the Arctic tundra but with higher thread-count sheets.
"Gabby is gone," I whispered to the room.
I looked down at the floor. Primrose was sleeping on her back, legs in the air, snoring like a chainsaw.
"Wake up, Prim!" I threw a pillow at her (gently!). "We have a mission! Today is Tuesday! The start of the grind! The beginning of the hustle!"
I hopped out of bed and marched to the bathroom.
I turned on the shower. I made the water warm—not too hot, not too cold, just right, like Goldilocks!
I grabbed my strawberry body wash and scrubbed.
Scrub-a-dub-dub! I need to smell like a walking fruit basket so that when Gabriel smells me, he forgets he is mad about the "I Love You" incident.
After the shower, it was Skincare Time. Toner. Pat, pat, pat! Serum. Drip, drip!. Butt Cream. Slather! (Because you never know!). Sunscreen.
I walked into the walk-in closet. It was filled with Gabriel's boring gray suits and my explosion of pink clothes.
I grabbed my university uniform. The skirt is checkered (very scholarly) and the blouse is white (very pure). I pulled my socks up high and slipped on my loafers.
Finally, the Piece de Resistance.
I grabbed my pink flower hairclip with the little pearls on it. I placed it on my head.
"Perfect," I told my reflection. "You look like a genius."
I grabbed my bag (which weighs ten pounds because I carry my crochet kit, my laptop, three water bottles, and a bag of gummy bears) and hopped out to the living room.
Gabriel was there.
He was standing by the door, putting on his suit jacket. He looked... chef's kiss. Sharp. Cold. Intimidating. He looked like he was about to go fire a thousand people and look good doing it.
"Good morning, Gabriel!" I chirped, bouncing on my heels.
He paused. He looked at me. His obsidian eyes were dark and tired. There were bags under them. (Probably because he sleeps 2 hours a night! HUHUHU!).
"Morning," he muttered. His voice was gravelly.
"I'm leaving for school now!" I announced, clutching my bag straps. "I will learn things! I will ace my quizzes! I will make the Muratori name proud!"
He nodded once. Just a sharp jerk of his chin.
"Go," he said.
And then he turned and walked into his office.
Click.
The lock turned.
I stood there for a second, my smile faltering just a tiny bit.
"Okay," I exhaled, puffing out my cheeks. "He is still Elsa. Frozen. But that's okay! I am Anna! I will melt him!"
I turned and hopped to the door.
★
The elevator ride down took forever. Hummmmmm. My ears popped.
When the doors slid open in the lobby, I saw them.
The Suits.
Usually, they are just scary statues in sunglasses who stand there looking menacing. But today, I decided they are my new best friends.
"Good morning, Team!" I waved enthusiastically with both hands.
Suit #1 (the one who drove me yesterday) smiled a little bit. It was a tiny smile, like a glitch in the matrix, but I saw it! Suit #2 (the scary one who looks like he eats rocks for breakfast) just nodded stoically.
They escorted me to the black car. It was shiny and huge.
Suit #1 opened the rear door for me.
"Wait!" I said, freezing with one foot inside the car.
They both looked at me.
"I have a question!" I declared.
"Ma'am?" Suit #1 asked.
"What are your names?" I tilted my head. "I can't keep calling you Suit Number One and Suit Number Two in my head. It feels dehumanizing! And we are a family now! Sort of! Employees are family, right?"
Suit #1 chuckled. He looked nice when he laughed. "I'm Sean, Ma'am."
"Sean!" I pointed at him. "Nice name. Sounds friendly. Like a golden retriever!"
I turned to the scary one. "And you? Mr. Rock Eater?"
He hesitated. He looked at Sean. Then he looked back at me behind his dark sunglasses.
"Marcus," he grunted.
"Marcus!" I clapped my hands. "Strong name. Roman Emperor vibes. I like it. Okay, let's go, Sean and Marcus!"
I hopped into the car. Sean got into the driver's seat, and Marcus took the passenger seat (shotgun).
As we drove through the city traffic, the silence was heavy. I hate silence. Silence is where the awkward memories live.
"So," I leaned forward, resting my arms on the back of Marcus's seat (invading his personal space, mwehehehe). "Sean. Marcus. Can I ask you something personal?"
Sean looked at me in the rearview mirror. "Depends, Ma'am."
"How much is your salary?"
Marcus choked on his own spit. Cough!
Sean's eyes widened. "Ma'am?"
"I'm just curious!" I shrugged innocently. "Gabriel is... well, he is Gabriel. He is very intense. He glares a lot. Does he pay you enough to deal with the scowls? Do you get hazard pay for when the temperature drops to negative ten degrees when he enters the room?"
Sean chuckled again, shaking his head. "He pays very well, Ma'am. Best in the industry."
"Good," I nodded satisfied. "He better. Or I will strike for you!"
I leaned back, looking out the window.
"He is mad at me," I whispered, mostly to myself but loud enough for them to hear. "Well, not mad. Just... distant. Like a planet. Pluto."
I looked at the back of Sean's head.
"Hey, Sean?"
"Yes, Ma'am?"
"You've worked for him for a long time, right?"
"Six years," Sean replied.
"How do I... tame him?" I asked earnestly. "Like, how do I make him less... grrr? How do I make him smile? What does he like? Does he have hobbies? Does he like kites? Legos? Does he paint?"
Sean and Marcus exchanged a look. I saw it! A look of total confusion!
"To be honest, Ma'am," Sean said, turning the steering wheel. "We don't know. He works. He sleeps. He works again. We've never seen him... do anything else."
"He doesn't have hobbies?" I gasped. "That is tragic! No wonder he is so stressed! His cortisol must be through the roof! He is a walking stress ball!"
"We don't know what goes on in his mind," Marcus added, his voice low and rumbly. "He is... a machine. We don't know what relaxes him."
Relax.
The word clicked in my mind.
Click.
Relax.
Relax...
RELAX.
Gabriel works 24/7. Gabriel drinks to numb his brain. Gabriel doesn't dream. Gabriel thinks rest is a malfunction.
Hypothesis: He doesn't know how to relax! His body is in a constant state of "Conquer Mode"! He needs forced relaxation!
And what is the universal symbol of relaxation? What is the place where stress goes to die?
My eyes lit up. A literal lightbulb appeared above my head (I felt the heat!).
A Spa Day! Massage! Cucumbers on the eyes! Weird whale music! Incense! Mud!
I giggled. I rubbed my hands together like a villain plotting world domination. "I am going to pamper him into submission."
Sean looked at me in the mirror, looking slightly terrified of my giggle. Marcus shifted uncomfortably.
"Ma'am?" Sean asked. "Are you okay?"
"I am better than okay, Sean!" I beamed. "I have a Plan. A Master Plan!"
"Should we be worried?"
"Nope!" I popped the 'p'. "Just... be ready."
★
The car parked in front of the university gates. Marcus got out and opened the door for me.
"Thank you, Marcus!" I said, bowing slightly (because politeness is free). "Have a safe day guarding the... air!"
I skipped toward the campus entrance.
"ALIIIII!"
I spotted a familiar head of perfectly curled hair.
"STEPHIE!"
I ran toward her. I launched myself into a hug, squeezing her tight.
"Oof!" Stephie laughed, hugging me back. "Easy, tiger! Why are you so energetic? Did you drink the billionaire coffee?"
"Yes! No! Maybe!"
I pulled back and kissed her cheek. Mwah! Then I kissed her forehead. Mwah!
"Whoa," Stephie blinked, fixing her sunglasses. "Okay, personal space invader. What's up?"
"I need your expertise!" I grabbed her arm and dragged her toward a bench. "You are rich. You know rich people things."
"I am insulted and flattered," she said.
"I need a list," I said seriously. "The best Spas in the city. Not the ones in the mall where you can hear the arcade next door. I mean the fancy ones. The ones where they whisper and give you tea that tastes like grass."
Stephie raised an eyebrow. "For you?"
"For... a friend," I lied. "A very stressed, very rich, very scary friend."
Stephie smirked. "Your 'mystery man' again?"
"Just give me the list!" I pulled out my phone and opened my Notes app. "But wait! It has to be in the city! I can't afford to bring him 50 miles away! Gas is expensive! Even if it's his gas!"
Stephie rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. Write this down."
She rattled off names like she was reading a menu.
"Top tier is The Celestial Sanctuary. It's members only, but my mom has a card. Then there's L'Oasis. Very French. Very expensive. And then there's Serenity Heights. That one has a mud bath imported from a volcano in Iceland."
"Icelandic mud!" I typed furiously. "Yes! Perfect! Mud is grounding! He needs grounding! He is too high up in his tower!"
"Why do you need this?" Stephie asked.
"Because," I pocketed my phone. "I need to lower his cortisol. It is a medical emergency. If he doesn't relax, he might explode!"
"You are weird," Stephie shook her head. "Come on. We have a quiz."
★
I walked into the classroom feeling unstoppable.
The quiz was on Probability and Statistics. The professor handed out the papers.
Most students were sweating. But me?
Switch Flip.
I put on my reading glasses (pink frames, obviously).
Question 1: Calculate the standard deviation... Answer: Easy. It's just numbers dancing!
Question 2: Regression analysis... Answer: Done. Boom.
My pen flew across the paper. Scritch-scratch.
I am ditsy. I trip over air. I talk to dogs. I think butt cream is a medical necessity. But when it comes to numbers and code? I am a weapon. My brain just clicks.
I finished the quiz ten minutes early. I flipped my paper over and started sketching a plan for the Spa Day.
Step 1: Kidnap Gabriel (emotionally).
Step 2: Drive him to 'The Celestial Sanctuary'.
Step 3: Force him into a robe.
Step 4: MUD.
I scribbled a little heart next to the word 'MUD'.
★
Classes ended at 4:30 PM. I walked out of the building, my brain buzzing with excitement.
I was texting Stephie, thanking her for the list, and trying to decide if Gabriel would look better in a white robe or a fluffy gray one.
I wasn't looking where I was going.
BUMP.
I slammed into something solid. Not rock-hard solid like Gabriel (who feels like a brick wall), but... firm. Soft-firm. Like a very sturdy pillow.
"Oh my gosh!" I dropped my phone.
I lunged and caught it by the headphone wire just before it hit the pavement. I looked up. "I am so sorr—"
My voice died in my throat.
The man I bumped into was tall. Not tower-of-terror tall like Gabriel, but tall enough. Maybe 6'0"?
He was... beautiful.
He had messy, dark brown hair that looked soft and fluffy, like a golden retriever puppy that just had a bath. His skin was tanned, glowing in the afternoon sun.
But it was his eyes that made me freeze.
They were hazel. Green and brown and gold mixed together. They were warm. Kind. They crinkled at the corners when he looked down at me.
He looked like an angel. A literal cherub who grew up and started wearing a beige cashmere sweater.
"Whoa there," he said. His voice was light and melodic. Like a harp!
He reached out to steady me, his hands gentle on my shoulders.
He smelled... good.
He didn't smell like smoke and danger and expensive whiskey (Gabriel). He smelled like... citrus. And fresh laundry. And sunlight. And fabric conditioner!
"I... I am sorry!" I bowed quickly, my hair falling over my face.
The man chuckled. It was a bright, happy sound. "It's fine," he smiled. "No harm done."
He looked at me. Really looked at me. His hazel eyes scanned my face, my uniform, my pink hairclip.
His smile faltered for a micro-second. A flicker of... something? Sadness?
"You go here?" he asked gently.
"Yes!" I nodded, straightening up. "BSIT! Second year! I code things!"
"IT," he nodded slowly. "Smart. Very smart." He tilted his head. He looked... wistful.
"Well, be careful, Miss..."
"Aleesha!" I chirped. "Aleesha... Garcia Muratori."
"Aleesha," he repeated the name. "It suits you. I'm... well, you can call me Eli."
"Hi Eli!" I waved. "You look like an angel! Are you lost?"
He laughed again. "Maybe a little lost. But I think I found where I needed to be."
"That is deep," I nodded sage-ly.
"You should get going," he said gently, nodding toward the gate. "Your ride is waiting."
I looked toward the gate. The black SUV was there. Sean and Marcus were waiting.
"Oh! Yes!" I gasped. "My carriage awaits! The tank is here!"
"Bye, Angel—I mean, Eli!" I scurried away, clutching my bag. As I reached the car, I looked back.
The man—Eli—was still standing there. He wasn't walking away. He was watching me get into the car. He didn't look creepy. He looked... lonely.
Weird.
But I didn't have time to ponder Angel Boys! I had a Demon Husband to tame!
★
I hopped into the back seat.
"Home, Sean!" I commanded, slamming the door. "And drive fast! We have a schedule!"
Marcus looked back. "Schedule?"
"Yes!" I grinned, pulling out my phone to dial The Celestial Sanctuary.