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Chapter 3

The shrill ring of my alarm clock woke me up. Still groggy, I extended an arm toward the bedside table and slapped the snooze button, my eyes remaining firmly shut. I lay still, trying to will myself to recharge before facing the day.

But something felt off.

Richard's scent lingered in the room, stronger than it had been last night. I thought I was imagining it—until I felt an arm draped over my stomach.

What the—

My eyes snapped open, and I turned my head, already knowing who I'd find.

"Come on, it's only six in the morning," Richard muttered grumpily, his voice rough from sleep.

"When did you get here?" I asked sharply, wriggling free of his hold and tossing his arm back toward him.

He squirmed as though I'd just stolen his blanket. "I wasn't told my room was ready."

I squinted at him, more annoyed than surprised. He couldn't see my expression anyway with his eyes still closed, but it didn't matter. "And you chose to sleep here without even bothering to check your own room?"

Instead of answering, he smiled lazily and pulled me closer, his arm wrapping around me again. This time, it was tighter, almost possessive.

"You know," he murmured, his voice husky, "that's the first time I've actually heard a tinge of emotion in your voice. I like it. Reminds me that you're not a robot, unlike yesterday."

I froze. His words were playful, but his tone felt intimate—too intimate. Calmly, I removed his arm and got out of bed, needing space to collect myself.

He was right, though. I had been imitating Robert's emotionless tone for years. It was one of those things I liked about him, the sense of calmness in his voice. Regal. Gentle but detached. You'd never be able to tell if he was angry with you or not. But speaking to Richard had made me slip, my voice betraying a hint of frustration. And now here he was, teasing me about it.

"I apologize, sir," I said, my tone back to neutral. "You may continue to sleep here if you'd like, but I must inform you that your room is now ready for occupancy."

He slapped the bed dismissively. "Boo. When did you become such a bore?"

I took the opportunity to slip away, deciding to shower later and change into my work clothes once he was out of my room. In the kitchen, I turned on the Prestons' industrial-grade espresso machine, a high-end model I'd been taught to operate. What can I say? The Prestons truly love their coffee.

From grinding the beans to steaming the milk, I prepared everything myself. There's something soothing about the process and it's one of the tasks I genuinely enjoy. I made a cup for myself first, both to check the taste and to fully wake myself up. Once satisfied, I prepared another cup for Richard.

When I returned to my room, I found him still sprawled across my bed, sleeping soundly as if it were his own.

I placed the tray with coffee and cookies on the bedside table and opened the window to let in the fresh morning air. The aroma of the coffee wafted through the room, and Richard stirred, shielding his eyes from the sunlight with his hand.

"Good morning, sir," I greeted him. "Today is your big day. Congratulations in advance."

He didn't respond, taking a sip of the coffee instead.

"This is to officially inform you that your room is now ready. I've also placed your bag in the closet," I added.

He grabbed a cookie, dipping it into the coffee before taking a bite. The sight of him lounging on my bed, unbothered, made him look like a guest enjoying a five-star hotel stay.

"Shouldn't you be preparing for the celebration?" I asked.

"Well shouldn't you?" he returned the question back to me with a smirk.

I bit my tongue, refusing to rise to his bait. "I believe you would be more comfortable in your own room, sir," I said and smiled sardonically. Let's see if he can read between the lines.

Why can't he just enjoy his damn coffee in his room?

He crossed his arms, his brows furrowing. "And what's wrong with spending time here?"

I stared at his outfit. He didn't even change his clothes the last time I saw him.

"Nothing, sir," I said, keeping my tone measured. But in my head, a sarcastic voice muttered, If you like it so much, why don't we switch rooms permanently?

Richard didn't budge. Instead, he grabbed another cookie and chewed it with infuriating nonchalance. With him, you could never tell what sly schemes might be brewing in his mind, but I knew this was just another tactic to get under my skin. It was becoming clear that this was one of his habits he never outgrew.

"But um," I pursed my lips. "I need to take a bath and change into my uniform... sir," I said, trying to sound polite.

"Well, what's stopping you?" he asked between bites, his tone as casual as ever.

My forced smile almost cracked. This man could try the patience of a saint. Gathering my towel and uniform, I decided I'd change in the shower to avoid any further confrontation. I saw Richard observing me curiously and it made me conscious even though I was doing nothing illegal.

As I prepared to step into the bathroom, Richard's voice stopped me.

"Seriously? You're going to change your clothes in the shower?"

"Yes, sir," I replied evenly. "I believe it would be improper to undress in front of you while you're eating."

He nearly choked on his cookie, coughing and hastily sipping his coffee to recover. "It's not a problem for me," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "But if it makes you feel better, leave your clothes here. I'll leave once I'm done drinking this coffee."

I hesitated, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. What if he took my clothes as a prank? Surely, he was too old for that now. Right?

Reluctantly, I placed my uniform on the chair near my desk and stepped into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Let's see if I can trust him this time.

I quickly showered and slipped into my robe before opening the door. True to his word, he was gone, leaving behind only the empty coffee cup. My clothes were untouched. Still, I scanned the room cautiously, even checking under the bed and inside the closet for good measure. Satisfied, I locked the door and began to dress.

Halfway through pulling on my underwear, a knock startled me, and I stumbled, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

"Hey, are you alright?" Richard's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Don't come in!" I yelled, "I'm fine!"

Once dressed, I opened the door, finding Richard standing there with a curious expression.

"Yes? How may I help you?"  I asked almost out of breath.

"What just happened?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I tripped, that's all," I said briskly, trying to dismiss the incident.

He looked unsatisfied with my answer but ultimately dismissed any more inquiries.

"I think I left my phone here," he said, stepping past me into the room.

He began rummaging through my bed, yanking the blanket back with unnecessary force until a faint thud broke the silence. His phone had fallen to the floor. Picking it up, he inspected it for any damage, and once satisfied, his gaze shifted to me. He looked me over from head to toe, his expression unreadable but unmistakably judgmental.

After a series of up and down glances, I found it annoying. "Yes?" I finally asked.

"Your fly's open," he said, smirking.

I felt myself fluster with shame and I quickly zipped up my pants, cursing under my breath. Clearing my throat, I tried to regain some composure. "Thank you for pointing that out, sir."

His smirk widened, clearly enjoying my embarrassment.

I decided to change the subject. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Whatever's on the menu that's light," he replied casually before leaving the room, his satisfied grin the last thing I saw.

I let out a long sigh, already dreading what the rest of the day might bring.