7.
After that night, we never spoke about what happened. In fact, we barely spoke at all. Any inch of warmth he had shown me disappeared and we were back to the cold formal relationship of boss and personal assistant as if he hadn't basically spent the night at my apartment with me.
I tried to speak to him multiple times. I, even, brought lunch from Silva's bakery to him and tried to eat with him in his office but I couldn't even unwrap my sandwich before he told me to get out.
I didn't expect him to want to be friends.
However, I thought considering everything that happened maybe we could at least be cordial to one another.
The semester was nearly over. I had three exams left and between both jobs and studying, I wasn't getting much sleep.
I usually managed to put an alarm before I potentially passed out.
Last night did not seem to be such a case.
After reviewing notes and assignments for hours on end after my shift, I ended up falling asleep at my usual study spot at the dining table.
By the time I woke up, I was nearly two hours late.
I would have gotten ready quicker had it actually been possible to move my head.
My back was sore and my neck was so stiff that I could barely move it to the side.
I knew better than to fall asleep studying, especially at the kitchen table.
Let's just say this wasn't my first rodeo.
I passed by Silva's cafe and got Mr. Morrentti a large black coffee in the hopes it would make him less mad. I wanted to believe he wouldn't notice my lack of presence, but the little voice in my head told me I was in for a rude awakening.
I gently knocked as I stared at the engraved door.
Mason Morrentti
CEO
It occurred to me that I never bothered to learn his first name before. His name was so fitting.
When I didn't receive a gruff response, I knocked with a little bit more force.
"Mr. Morrentti?", I called out only to receive no response.
I opened his office door and walked in. His office was modern, but had a rustic vibe to it.
As I walked closer to his desk, I noticed it was bare.
All the telltale signs of someone occupating a desk were missing.
There were no documents, no sticky notes, not even a framed picture of a loved one.
There wasn't even a laptop. There was no evidence that anyone vacated this office.
You would never be able to tell that this office belonged to someone.
The lack of his presence in the office is what worried me the most. Mr. Morrentti was never late.
Nor, did he ever miss a day of work. He was always one of the first to enter the office and definitely always the last to leave.
The fact that he was not here, ready to pin me with that furrowed expression at my tardiness, had my stomach churning.
With his coffee in hand, I walked back to Ophelia's desk.
Watching out for my neck, I slowly sat upright in the chair while opening up her computer.
I opened their conjoined calendar, hoping to find a scheduled meeting with a location I could find him at.
Weirdly, he had no meetings or calls today.
I was getting increasingly worried and confused by the second seeing as he was always busy.
Even the other night, he had to put his phone on do not disturb from the plethora of calls he received in an hour alone which is why I found it hard to believe he had nothing planned on a week day.
Coming up short on the daily planner, I checked Ophelia's emails.
Relief spread throughout me as I read Mr. Morrentti's email to 'me' telling me to reschedule all of today's events since he won't be coming into work.
I knew Ophelia was working from Bali so that explains why everything on his daily planner was updated and new meetings were set.
She had probably texted me but in a hurry to get here I had forgotten my phone at home.
Well, if he wasn't here then technically I could take the day off too, right?
After all, Ophelia was doing the work remotely in Bali and I was only needed to make it look like she was actually coming into work.
Using her mac, I facetimed her. I wasn't going to leave without her permission. This was her work reputation, not mine.
I hadn't realized what time it was in New York compared to the time it was in Bali. I would have felt worse for waking her up had she not done it to me. Her eyes were trying to blink away the sleep and her curls were bundled on top of her head, lazily spread out in direction.
"What?", she said with a small pout.
"I'm at the office, but you cleared his schedule since he's taking the day off. Do you mind if I leave?"
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and squinted from the brightness of her phone. "I texted you not to go in."
"I woke up late. I basically just got here."
"Char, you are so lucky he isn't there or else I would be fired. Two hours?", she squeaked.
"I know. I'm sorry. I was up late studying."
"Please just make sure it doesn't happen again."
There was a tense silence. Neither of us spoke as we floated in our annoyances.
I understood why she would be annoyed with me. I was nearly two hours late into her job. It didn't look good, I agree. On the other hand, I was annoyed at the fact that she seemed to be ignorant of how much impersonating her was weighing on me.
Besides annoyance, I was also curious. For a man so dedicated to his work that he basically never left, what could have pulled him away from it for an entire day?
Although I shouldn't have, I asked Ophelia about his absence.
"Who knows.", she merely brushed it off. We quickly ended the call. Her, wanting to go to bed and me wanting to catch some extra shut eye before my shift at the bar.
As I stiffly picked my bag and stood up, I stared at the takeout cup filled with piping hot black coffee. It was so sad that a great cup of coffee would go to waste. I could always drink it myself, but I already chugged an iced coffee on my way into the office.
Maybe I should bring it to him.
I weighed the pros and cons of what I wanted to do with that thought. On one hand, I would appreciate someone bringing me coffee. On the other, I might come off creepy seeing as he took the day off work and I was technically his employee.
I opened up his contact profile on Ophelia's laptop and quickly scribbled the address found in the notes section. I left the office and hailed a taxi. I slipped them the post it, unable to vocalize it. I would most likely lose my cool and change my mind about going to see him if I did.
The taxi ride wasn't long. In fact, the office to where Mr. Morrentti lived was very walkable. The short distance to the office was probably the main reason he lived where he did.
There was a doorman who greeted me as I walked closer.
From the moment I stepped into the lobby I was immediately enamored as I caught sight of the largest hanging chandelier I'd ever seen.
The lobby was pure elegance and luxury with marble floor and walls.
The receptionist looked up from behind the counter and smiled as I approached her.
"Hello, Miss. Merile. How are you this lovely morning?", her voice sounded how you think honey would. It was sweet and smooth. Her smile matched her voice perfectly.
So, Ophelia must have visited his place a few times, enough for the receptionist to recognize her. That fact left an uncomfortable feeling at the bottom of my stomach.
"Hi, I'm good, and you?"
"Quite well. Thank you, darling. Would you like me to call Mr. Morrentti down?"
"NO!", I said rather loudly. Her eyebrows raised upwards, shocked at my reaction. "No. I don't want to bother him. I just need to pick up a file."
Wow. I was getting pretty good at this lying thing.
"Okay, dear. Then go on straight up."
We smiled at each other and I made my way to the elevators. As I waited for the elevator to arrive, I realized I didn't know which floor he lived on.
I turned my body to face the lady, as I spoke a little bit louder so she could hear me. "Excuse me. Which floor, again? I'm having a blank."
"The penthouse, sweety."
Of course, he lived in a penthouse suite. Why did I expect anything else?
"Right", I replied as I laughed awkwardly.
As if the universe heard me needing a win, the doors opened.
I quickly entered them and pressed the PH button.
It was several seconds before I stepped out and swallowed by the most beautiful panoramic views of the city I had ever seen.
From where I stood, which was not deep into the suite, I could see the floor to ceiling glass encasing his large suite.
In front of me, were several small steps into a living room that dripped modern luxury.
"Mr. Morrentti?", I called out. I stayed rooted in my spot. It wasn't exactly like I had been invited so I didn't want to overstep my boundaries.
"Miss. Merile? What are you doing here?", he asked low and groggily. I nearly gasped as he came within my eyesight.
His eyes were weighed down, visibly exhausted.
His nose and cheeks were flushed and his skin had a light sheen to it.
He was wearing a white tank top, making his tattoos visible to the naked eye.
His black pants sat low on his hips and hugged his legs loosely.
In normal circumstances, I would have taken a couple more seconds to myself to admire him, but he was clearly sick and this was not the time.
He caught onto the wall nearest to him with his hand as his chest heaved with coughs. Guilt overcame my mind as I realized I was the reason he was sick.
He got my cold.
Written: 11/2
Hey everyone!!
Should I write a POV for MASON? What do you guys think?