The morning after *** (40)
She reached for the monitor by her bedside table wondering why it hadn't blared from the awakening cries of baby Sam who was an early riser but felt nothing, only the smoothness of the sheets and the soft touch of the mattress beneath her. Her eyes flew open with shock, she shut up to a sitting position, her sleepy eyes drinking in the unfamiliar surroundings until everything came back.
She was in Theo's bed, she'd slept with her boss Theodore freakin Newman! And like that, details of the previous night came reeling back in her head, her skin flushed red.
Sadly she'd woken up alone on the large bed, cold and lonely—not really.
He'd probably left her to sleep to her satisfaction, she assured herself as she tore the duvet off her and planted her legs on the floor to catch her breath. That was when her eyes flew to the wall clock and the time read 8:30 am.
"Oh my God, oh my God!" Jema chanted as she searched fervently for her robe and whatever other piece of clothing was missing from her. The door to the bathroom snapped open and she stood to look at the intruder.
"Sorry ma'am,"
"Who... who are you?" Jema held her beating chest as she tried to understand what the male dressed in rubber gloves was doing in the master's bedroom—bathroom to be precise.
"I'm Felix, I'm, I was..." he stuttered.
"Right Felix, what are you doing here?"
"The master... I was just cleaning up his bathroom, it's Friday morning."
"Oh!" Jema wasn't sure what to make of the scenario, she'd just been caught sleeping in the master's bedroom by one of the workers. The last thing she needed was for rumors about her and Theodore to spread beyond the mansion walls. It wouldn't do her any good and not if the Madame got a whiff of it.
By the time she got to the baby's room, nurse Lilian had attended to Sam and he was fast asleep in his crib. She thanked the young nurse and headed to freshen up afterward. She needed to catch up with Theodore at the breakfast table or miss having a word with him until whenever he decided to return home. He was a mystery, entirely different from the norm in the way he thought and the things he believed to be right and wrong.
The man was no people-pleaser, he did things because he wanted to and no compromises. If it were some other lover she'd shared such an intense night of pleasure with, they'd have at least held her through the night, kissed her temple in the morning when the sun rose and probably shared breakfast in bed while getting to know more about one another. That was basic morning-after-lovemaking etiquette.
"Jema, sweetheart, you're glowing this early in the morning. I had my doubts you were alright," Martha's concerned voice called at her as she stepped into the servant's breakfast room.
"Morning Martha, and why would you doubt my health?" She narrowed her eyes at the lady in an apron with a spatula at hand ready to flip the egg.
She tsked. "Madame said something like it this morning when I asked after you, it's unlike you to get up late."
"Oh, that," her cheeks felt warm. "I overslept last night, I'm fine."
The other lady didn't seem to buy all that but went ahead to make whatever it was she was cooking.
"Is the master's breakfast served?" Jema asked while buttering a slice of bread.
"I was just about to do that when you came in, I have my hands full since Madame took off so early in the morning."
"Did she say where she's headed?"
"Nothing, her usual stealth."
"I'll help you serve him," she reached for the trolley when Martha stopped her. "What?" She couldn't understand the sullen look on Martha's aged face.
"Jema..."
"Martha? What is it?"
After much inner dialogue, the older lady offered Jema a sweet smile and nodded for her to go ahead. "Just stay safe alright?"
"Uh... alright," But Martha's sad face was all Jema could think of until she entered the master's dining room and her eyes fell on him.
He was breathtaking in all shades of darkness. His dark curls styled to perfection, his white shirt to black pants pressed to perfection beneath his vest. He held a tablet in one hand and a blunt on the other. She watched him squeeze the cigar tip in the ashtray before raising those mind-numbing eyes at her arrival.
"Morning," Jema managed an awkward smile before setting about whipping up his coffee.
"Jema, did you have a good night's sleep?" His face held something of a smirk than a smile but it did more to her insides than a sweet smile would.
"I did in fact, been a while," she muttered more to herself. "You seemed to have slept just a whiff," She noticed he'd entirely given up his cigar at her arrival, it brought a tiny smile to her face that he respected her that much.
"I don't sleep much, and not when there's noise around."
"What noise? There wasn't any last night," she racked her brains for any memory of noise when she slept in his room.
"You snore," he said.
"What? No, I don't,"
"Yes you do, and I dislike it as much as tapping repetitively on a surface,"
Jema's jaw hung open at his brash revelation. He'd left her alone in his room because she snored and not because he wanted her to rest while he took care of important matters or because he was trying to spare her the embarrassment of waking next to her boss. She mentally face-palmed herself for thinking too highly of Theodore.
"Coffee please," he muttered, his eyes fixed on the screen of his tablet like he was reading the morning news from it.
"So was that why the cleaner was there this morning? Even before I could wake?" Jema placed his hot coffee before him and watched him tear his eyes off his phone and at her.
"The cleaner?.... Felix?"
"Yes, Felix,"
"He cleans my bedroom every Friday morning, it can't be helped," he took two sips of his black coffee. Jema watched his lips kiss the golden edges of the white porcelain, reminding her of every part of her those lips had grazed last night.
"And what if he told the others about seeing me there?"
"He wouldn't dare, I know the sort of people I let into my home and Felix is to be trusted."
"Oh right! Well, anyway I guess I was being paranoid over nothing then. I'll just go grab the rest of the meal from the kitchen," Jema shrugged and made to leave.
"Sit with me," he offered. "Just for breakfast,"
"What of the rest of__"
Theo cut in before she could finish. "I'll ring her up," he assured and picked up his tablet to beep Martha on her cell. In a jiffy, an exasperated voice came from the entrance of the dining room.
"Yes sir," Martha smiled when she saw Jema perched on one of the seats.
"Please serve Ms. Jema and my breakfast, we'd appreciate that wouldn't we?" He turned to Jema for reassurance which she held for a moment before turning to give Martha a nod.
"You know she's overwhelmed with chores everyday and I try to help her as much as I can. Why wouldn't you let Madame hire more cooks?" Jema spoke when Martha left the room. She sat adjacent to Theodore, his sweet scent now mixed with coffee wafted into her nose.
"To entrust such delicate responsibilities to just anyone is something I cannot do. Martha is as close as I can get, I'd rather up her pay."
"There are nicer people out there than what you're used to Theo," she leaned closer to him when she said his name, causing her to see the subtle surprise on his face when she did.
Martha returned to serve them breakfast and all through Jema could feel her eyes linger on her, they held the same sullen expression like before but the woman's attempt at hiding it failed.
When they settled down to eat, Jema decided to change the topic to something more specific. "What are you planning to do to that man from yesterday?"
"Hold him hostage until I know everything he knows, he's too important for me to just have him killed."
"And after that?..."
"I don't know Jema, would you have me forgive the man who almost killed my son?"
"I would if he's repentant of his actions,"
He barked a laugh. "Repentant? You do expect so much from a killer, it's aggravating."
"He was only doing as asked, someone employed him yeah? And even if he did try to kill me, the crime's not on his head but on that of the people who wanted me dead," she explained. "And from what I got last night, he has a son. Would you have another child go fatherless when you have the chance to spare him?"
"He'd have done the same if not that you were smart enough to not reveal your true identity! People like him don't deserve mercy, they don't deserve a second chance because when you give them one... you get killed for it,"
"How do you know that?" She asked. "How do you know the man's not sincerely apologetic for his sins? All I'm saying is... you don't have to end him afterwards, you can disarm him or better still keep him close by. I've seen what death can do to someone—not that, I've experienced what ending a life can do to the mind," Their eyes held each other's as the words poured from her lips, those were some of her deepest feelings and she didn't hesitate putting them out there.
"The guilt, the terror it builds. You think it does but it never goes away, rather your mind begins to create an illusion for self preservation, of mercurial placidity from the shadows that haunt you. Then you start to deny, reassure, deny again and on and on it goes." She shook her head as her eyes welled up, their breakfast cold on the table. "It's not a nice life to live, Theo, and maybe that's why I've been running all my life. Maybe that's the reason I feel secured within the high walls of the mansion—that if I tell my mind it's okay that the walls will protect me or that the sweet smile of baby Sam would soothe the pains away then it would," she sniffled, her trembling fingers reached to wipe at her nostrils. "But they're just illusions, nothing more,"
The sound of her phone ringing snapped them out of their daze, they'd sat staring deeply at each other. Lots of thoughts skimmed through Theodore's mind at Jema's analogy. He watched her head to a corner of the room to answer her caller and wondered if they were any different from each other in their life experiences?
Perhaps they were both two individuals with the same life experiences but chose different outcomes for it. He'd chosen the brutal, impassive approach and she on the other hand had worn her fears and tribulations on her face.
Whether she was right about her inference or not, all Theo knew was that brutality was what worked for him and he's lived by it since his adulthood. It was up to his adversaries to feel their demons haunt them, that he promised each and every one of them.
"I have to travel back home, there's a situation in need of my presence," Jema announced.
.
.
.
.
We going back to Hartwood baby!!!!!!
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro