As I wake up, it's already dawn. I have no idea how long I slept. I stretch myself under the beige slick bedsheet and I feel how sore I am. Sore because of Richard Faulkerson. I smile and turn around in the bed. No Richard. I lift myself and look through the french windows. I see the whole Manhattan in dawn. Amazing. It's amazing to watch Manhattan waking up in front of my feet. I smile. What a view!

Then I notice the music. I hear someone play the piano. Not someone. It's Richard. And he plays amazingly well. But yet it's a sad song. Bach, I believe, but I can't remember the name of the song.

I wrap the silk beige sheet around my upper body, before I get up slowly walk out of the room I really am sore. Sore because of him. I stop in front of a mirror in the hallway. I have messy hair. Very messy hair. I sigh ass I notice how pale I am again. But I smile before I walk down the glass hallway which leads to the living room, from which melancholic sound is coming from. Richard is sitting at the piano, having Manhattan behind him. It's an epic picture.

Richard Faulkerson at the piano, having Manhattan in the background.I leaned against the wall and observe him. He's only wearing a pajama trouser. God, he looks so sexy! He seems like he's in his own world and it's impossible to reach him.

Yet I try to reach him, as I slowly walk over him. Fascinated I observe his only fingers on the keys. The fingers which I felt only hours ago on my skin. The very same fingers which make me go crazy. I feel my face getting red, remembering his fingers on my skin.

He looks up at me. His eyes into mine.

"Sorry." I whispers, "I didn't want to disturb you."

He frowns, "I should say that to you." he replies, stopping playing on the piano and resting his hands on my thighs.

"You should sleep."

" It was wonderful. Bach?"

"A transcription from Bach, but it's originally from Alessandro Marcello."

(AN: you should play this for you to know the piece)

"Amazing, but yet very sad."

His lips from a small smile, "Get back to the bed."

You're gonna be tired in the morning." he says, placing his hands on my shoulders and leading me back to his bedroom.

"I woke up and you weren't there."

"I have trouble sleeping and I'm not used to share my bed." he says in a whisper.

"How long are you already playing?"

"Since I'm five."

"Wow...." I say amazed as we reach his bedroom.

"How are you?"

"Sore." I answer truthfully as he opens the doors of his bedroom.

"Go back to bed." he says as I look at him.

I reach out, wanting to touch his perfect chest. He step back--Just like earlier.

"You need to sleep." he says to me in a sharp tone.

I smile at him and start to play with a hair strand, "What I need is you."

He smirks back at me. But his smile fades too soon for me to interpret it.

"Get into the bed." he says in a sharp tone. "I'll lay beside you." he adds in a soft tone.

I lay down, trying not to think about why he doesn't want to be touched by me. I feel him behind me, fondling my cheek.

"You're choosing sleep over sex? Seriously?" I ask him surprised.

"You need to sleep. Not sex." The he kisses my hair, "Sweet Dreams, Maine." he whispers before I close my eyes and fall in a deep sleep.

The bright sun wakes me up the next morning. I open my eyes slowly, seeing Manhattan by day. It was more breathtaking by night, but yet I couldn't help but feel amazed. I turn around only to see that he's gone. His side on the bed is tidy. The pillow is weren't it's suppose to be, just like the sheet and the blanket. Is it always going to be like this? Me waking up in his bed....Alone?

Feeling a little sad, I slowly get out of the bed and look around. My clothes are no longer on the floor. Where are my clothes? HIs clothes are no longer visible as well. Did he clean everything up? Is this another one of his tics? You call being a polyarmist a tic? My subconsciousness ask me.

I shake my head and open the door to which I think is the bathroom. I really need to pee. But instead of getting greeted by a beige marble floor, I greeted by an enormous room with white closets. His walk-in closet. A room in which you could easily use as a kitchen and a living room. Wow.

I open a drawer. The least he could do for me is give me a shity to cover my skin. I get out a dark Rolling Stone shirt with the classic red tongue to cover my upper body - and a little bit of my butt, since he's taller than me. Then I walk back into his bedroom and suddenly notice my clothes on a chair - all folded together, all ironed and probably washed. I get into my underwear and decide to keep on the shirt - it really does suites me. I walk to the bathroom and wash my face with icy cold water to wake me up and make me look a little less pale. My body doesn't react well to alcohol-I am as pale as a lynch. I sigh as I put my hair up into a loose ponytail and walk out of the bathroom. My feet feel the floor changing, from a warm stone floor to a very soft carpet. I yawn as I leave his bedroom and walk down the long hallway to the living room. Shit. Patricia.
I walk faster, hoping Patricia didn't call me a thousand times already. I see my purse next to the music stool and lean down, to get my cellphone.

"Would you like to have a breakfast Miss Mendoza?" I hear a female voice and jump up, letting the phone crash to the floor.

My head turns around and I see a female, about in a late forty's looking at me, standing behind the stove. "Oh, I'm sorry didn't want to scare you, Miss Mendoza.

I look at her confused, then amazed as I understand who she is. Or might be.Or probably is, since this is Richard Faulkerson we're talking about.  "No....It's....I was just surprised to find out that I am not alone, I guess." I add and smile politely. "Who are you?"

"I'm Mrs. Santos. Mr. Fulkerson's housekeeper." she explains and smile shyly. "I'm so sorry for scaring you, Miss Mendoza."
"Maine. And it's no big deal. Really." I say and pick up the phone from the floor. "Do you know where Mr. Faulkerson is?"She nodds. "He's at the pool. He told me he had left you a message, bit you probably don't read it."
"I didn't see a message." I say, trying to remember if I overlooked it.

She smiles again. "It's on the left nightstand, right next to it is a brown bag for you as well."

I nodd and walk out f the living area, "Thanks."

As I walk down the glass hallway I hear Mrs. Santos saying "Oh, what about your breakfast, Maine?"

"I'm not hungry!" I yell back before I reach his bedroom. I open the door and walk in. My eyes scan the room and stop as I see the card and the brown bag right next to the stand. Why didn't I notice earlier?

I walk to the nightstand and pick up the card. "I'm on the pool. Join me if you want. There's a bikini in the brown bag, which should fit you. Richard Faulkerson."

Confused, I read the message again. He brought me a bikini? Just like that?

I open the brown bag only to see a plain-but yet beautiful-white bikini. A bikini worth a fortune as I see the label: Chanel. Yeah that man surely knows how to spend money the correct way. My subconsciousness says in a sarcastic way.

I shake my head as I get the bikini out of the brown bag. Damn it, this bikini really does have something special. Get into it and jump into the pool with him! My inner goddess yells.

With his grey shirt covering my bikini body, I walk into the elevator and push the pool button. There are also buttons for the gym, the restaurant, the parking garage and the lobby. Of course.

Enjoy reading😊