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Two

Something about the baritone voice shook her in a way that she could not pinpoint. For the first time in her life her heart thumped so hard against her chest just as chills trickled down her spine down to her toes. The feeling was very foreign and completely unexpected.

And in that moment she found herself thinking that being caught red-handed was not such a great feeling after all. And her first time just had to be while she was perched up on a chair with her uniform bunched up.

Like a deer caught in headlights, she turned ever so slowly towards the owner of the voice that held her captive. Her brown orbs connected with the ash black orbs of a man whose height alone was something to be reckoned with.

His hair, a slick messy dirty blond, looked like he had just stepped out of bed. A jaw so cut out, it was almost surreal. She saw how his complexion was not pale like her own, instead it was a tan, almost gold colour; something which she found almost amazing as it immediately gave away his foreign ethnicity.

She decided then that this man was indeed beautiful. She had never encountered a sight so enthralling. And no, this conclusion was not coming down from the fact that she did not have that much interactions with men to just label the next man as good looking. There was no question about it, she was not blind and was simply stating a fact. 

His pristine shirt was folded at the cuffs, allowing her a glimpse of the trickle of curls that disappeared under the unfolded parts of his sleeves. The top two buttons were undone and she could see the broad expanse of his bronze chest, something which incited her stomach to release a swarm of butterflies.

It was only as her eyes once again settled on his face and saw how his jaw was so set out, that she realised the man was biting down his teeth in anger. She suddenly felt like a huge bucket of water had been poured over her. Instantly, her senses were at their sharpest degree as she came crushing to reality.

She was suddenly all too aware of the weight of the situation and how bad she probably looked. There she was high up on the expensive looking chair, her uniform bunched up under both of her hips managing to put her thighs on display; clutching the duster for dear life.

Her gaze lowered in shame. In that moment, she hoped for nothing more than the ground to swallow her whole. It seemed she could not muster the courage to speak. Or was it that she had lost the ability to speak as it was. 

"I am not fond of repeating myself," His voice once again made her want to crawl somewhere and hide for the rest of her life. What about Natie? She thought to herself, amidst her feelings.

"Uh...please."

Please? That's all she could say? And more precisely, what exactly was she pleading for? She took a deep breath as subtly as she could, all too aware of the scorching gaze the man held on her.

‘You're not making this any easy!’ She wanted to shout at the man. But she couldn't be that stupid.

"Sir, it’s not what it looks like.” Great! The perfect thing to say when it is exactly what it looks like. And what was it if it was not what it looked like? She gulped once she saw how his gaze never faltered. 

“I mean I just wanted to clean the cabinet but could not reach so...” she trailed off and lowered her eyes to the floor. She hoped that the man would at least understand her vague explanation.

At the long torturous silence that followed, she raised her head timidly only to find him standing directly in front of her. Nothing could have prepared her for this close proximity. She could now see how flawless his skin was, something she inwardly scolded herself for. This was not the time to be getting mesmerised by the man's looks.

He stood tall and proud before her, his intentions unknown to her. Was he going to report her? Heaven knows she could not do without this job. She needed it. A few seconds passed while they stood like that. She could not say anything to ease away the intensity in the air. It was becoming harder to breath with her so aware of him.

She felt his gaze wash over her. She hated the way he looked at her with disgust. Like she was filth that belonged on the soles of his shoes. She knew that she was just but the hotel's worker. Someone to dust, mop, scrub and clean up after guests but she sure as hell knew she did not have to be judged or be treated bad for it.

A new wave of anger washed over her. Like a sudden gust of wind, it almost unraveled her but she reigned it in. He might have been a beautiful man but he was not worth losing her job over. 

What if you already have?

She shook her head and quickly sacked that thought. This was not the time to be thinking negatively. Having had enough of ridiculing herself by remaining perched up on the chair, she carefully reached out to both arms of the chair in a bid to gain some balance and get off the chair as soon as possible.

Just as she was about to step onto the floor, her left foot slipped and before she knew it, she was falling with her flailing helplessly in the air. She braced herself for the fall as her reflexes just weren't fast enough to grab something. Anything!

How much more embarrassment could she take? It looked like there was room for more as she clamped her eyes shut and waited for the thud. And waited. And waited. But it never came. 

Wait a minute, the floor was not supposed to be warm and soft like this. Not that she had had enough encounters with floors to have firsthand knowledge on the temperature and texture of them. It just wasn't as she had anticipated.

Wait...

The sound was unmistakably prominent when she finally let herself listen. The strong sound of a heartbeat. Right under her cheek.

Her eyes flew open in alarm and the first thing that she saw was the creaseless shirt and the skin. The skin her face was currently plastered on. She almost fainted when she felt the hard chest under her hands. 

Lifting her face slowly, she faced one very well-defined tan chest and took in the pair of arms that were falling on either side of him. She felt even shorter and smaller than she was. He was indeed a big man. One whose cologne was messing with her senses.

The bun that once existed on her head was long gone and her auburn hair fell in beautiful waves around her oval face. 

She flushed a deep rosy red and jumped back in embarrassment. She looked everywhere else but at him. She bit her lower lip, a habit that came about whenever she was nervous.

"I think it’s best I leave. I apologise for any inconvenience I have caused you."

She honestly wanted to applaud herself for speaking straight without stuttering. She pulled down her uniform and wore her flats, rushing to make it to the door. She was just about to make it through the threshold when he spoke, making her come to an abrupt halt.

"I believe my chair was not there when you came into my office," he spoke so cooly but she could not miss the malice that laced his voice. 

All this drama over a chair? Oh right, she was in the wrong too. She should never have climbed on top of it in the first place. It did not seem to make anymore sense to her now that she had been caught. 

But even so, she did not think that she had given him enough reason to portray such hostility towards her. Well, unless you consider standing on his chair and falling onto his chest a sensible reason. 

Besides, the latter could not be helped. He had been standing right there, so what was she supposed to do? Ask him to move aside so that she could gladly fall on her face and risk losing some teeth and a broken nose? She shuddered at the thought of it all.

Anelia made a sharp turn back into the room, wheezing past him and going to the chair. If only he knew how difficult it was for her to move that chair in the first place. Of course she did struggle as instructed. She probably looked quite the sight but she was hell bent on doing what he asked and getting out of there.  

She eventually managed to move the chair back to it's original position. She turned and walked towards the door, intent on getting herself out through the threshold this time. As she was about to walk past him, he suddenly grabbed her wrist, earning a jump from her. 

"Take your filthy duster while you're at it," he spat out while burning holes on the side of her face. She gulped down the need to cry. She would not give him the satisfaction of thinking that he intimidated her.

She walked back and picked up the duster. She had never in her life met anyone as ice cold as this man and she prayed that she would never have to encounter him again. As she finally closed the door to the penthouse with a soft thud, she felt like she could finally breathe.

Why do I repel him? Her unanswered question hung over her mind, making her all the more confused. But no, she reminded herself that she need not worry about that. With what little pride she had, she trudged back to the changing rooms.

Checking the watch tied securely on her wrist, it was a few minutes past six. Her shift was officially over and if anything, her sore feet were making her aware of how much work she had endured.

It was all worth it she thought, an image of her happy sister popping up in her mind.

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