Bad

CHAPTER 17: BAD

RACHEL'S POV

The clock on the wall shows it's barely past six, but I have a lot to do before Marco comes later in the afternoon. He’d called last night to let me know he'd be in meetings all day, so I decided to take it upon myself to prepare breakfast for Noah and me after asking Marco what he thought Noah would prefer for the morning.

I move around the kitchen quietly, trying not to wake anyone else. I have a feeling that Noah is likely to be up soon as he is this early-morning person. 

  "I am almost done. What is next?" I whisper joyfully to myself as I look around and then I snap my fingers.

   "Ah, the coffee." Standing on my tiptoes, I reach for the shelf, my fingers grazing the mug’s handle that is a bit out of reach.

What a wonderful way for the universe to remind me that I am short.

I struggle a little bit to get it but all my attempts to do so just keep on failing. Just as I am about to look for an alternative method, I feel the air shift behind me, and before I can even register the motion, Noah's arm is there, reaching past me effortlessly, his fingers trailing my arm up to where the mug is. His large hand grips the mug, and in one smooth movement, he lowers it into my waiting hands. 

My heart skips a beat at how close we are, and the scent of his perfume quickly fills my nostrils. It isn't too much, more like it is mild. 

His chest brushes against my back, and I can feel the heat of his body so close that it feels like I am going to lose my sense of reasoning soon. I freeze, suddenly aware of the intimacy of the moment. My breath hitches in my throat, and I instinctively take a half-step forward, but the closeness still lingers.

I have never gotten so close to him like this before. We are always five feet away whenever we are discussing. 

Turning quickly, I glance up, finding his face mere inches from mine. Time seems to stretch, and for each second, I feel his breath against my skin. 

Neither of us moves. Neither of us says anything. My heart continues to pound in my chest. The silence between us is thick, thick enough to drown out all other sounds in the room.

For the first time, I get to see my husband this close enough to access his facial features. Yes, he is good-looking looking but this time around, he looks even more attractive than he would have looked any day. 

I can see every detail, every line and curve of him, crystal clear. His eyes, that deep blue I only see from afar, are now right in my face, intense—like they can see right through me. I see the small scar along his jawline, only visible if you’re this close, and the faint stubble that gives his face a rough edge. His nose is strong, his cheekbones sharp and it all feels like it’s pulling me in, drawing me deeper.

His lips are together, tight, like he’s holding something in. There’s a small crease between his brows but it’s not anger. It’s something else—something I can’t quite put my finger on. I find myself staring at the way his jaw muscles flex like he’s coiled but trying not to move. It’s hard not to be aware of him, of how much space he’s taking up just by standing this close to me.

Finally, Noah shifts, his breath hitching for a moment before he clears his throat. 

   “Next time, just use something else that will make it easier for you,” he says curtly, stepping back with an awkwardness that contrasts with the tension I feel.

I nod, my voice stuck in my throat.

   "Thank you,"

 I could swear that, just for a second, I saw something flicker in his eyes—a glimmer of something deeper, something unspoken. But before I can process it, he turns his back to me, his movements brisk and calculated.

I blink, forcing myself to breathe again. Was it my imagination? Or had there been something more there? I can’t be sure.

Shaking off the feeling, I grab the mug and turn back to the gas cooker, trying to concentrate on breakfast, though my thoughts are anything but focused. I take in a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

   "I decide to prepare breakfast for both of us since Marco won't be around," I say to him as I arrange them down on the table and look at him. He glances at them for a while before looking back at me. I am somehow praying that he does not reject them because it's going to be a waste of time and effort and also the food.

  "You can have them, Noah. We are husband and wife by paper, not enemies, okay? The least we can do is not to act like we don't exist..."

   "All this speech so I can eat the breakfast?" He interrupts and I nod.

He sits down and takes his time to eat while I await his reaction. He doesn't finish eating it though. He stops mid-way and stands up.

   "How is it?"

  "Bad," 

He walks out on me and I slump against the chair.

.

.

.

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The sound of Beatrice’s heels clicking on the floor breaks my thoughts. I glance up to see her stride into the kitchen.

  “Ladies, gather round,” she calls, her voice sharp. “We have a big event coming up in two days, and I need you all on your toes. It's for a Senator, and the hotel staff will be in charge of everything for the event in the hall. The kitchen is our responsibility, and I expect nothing less than perfection.”

I nod, watching as the other girls gather, all of us waiting for Beatrice’s instructions. Her eyes move over each of us, assessing and calculating, before she continues.

   “Every detail matters,” Beatrice emphasizes, her gaze falling on me now. “Rachel, I want you to be in charge of directing the ladies during the event. You’ll be overseeing the serving. Make sure the guests are well taken care of. We don’t want any slip-ups, understood?”

“Yes, Beatrice,” I respond, my voice steady despite the flicker of nerves that rise in my chest.

I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on me more than ever. This event—this responsibility—feels bigger than anything I’ve been a part of here. But I can’t show any uncertainty. I nod firmly, already beginning to map out in my mind how I’ll handle it all. She trusts me, that is why she is handing it over to me.

As Beatrice continues to go over the finer details with the staff, my thoughts drift to the task ahead. This isn’t just another catering event. This is an event where the Senator himself will be present, and I have a chance to make a real impression. I need to stay focused. I need to prove I’m capable of more than just playing the role of a bystander in this strange world.

The kitchen buzzes with activity as Beatrice assigns us all tasks, and I get to work. The next few hours fly by, and before I know it, it’s time for a quick break.

I step outside to catch some fresh air, my mind still racing with preparations for the event. As I round the corner of the hotel, I find myself caught in a swirl of people. The event is approaching, and guests are starting to trickle in earlier than expected to book a room, as the event will be happening right in the hall owned by Noah.

I stop to adjust my apron, trying to look composed, when suddenly, I feel someone bump into me from behind. I stumble forward, nearly losing my balance, but a strong hand catches my arm, steadying me.

   “I’m so sorry,” a voice says, full of genuine apology. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

I glance up to find a young man, maybe a few years older than me, with dark brown hair and a sharp jawline. His eyes are warm, and the smile he offers is quick but polite.

    "Oh, it is fine. No harm done,” I say with a light laugh, brushing off the moment.

But as I glance at him, I notice his gaze linger a little longer than usual, and a faint blush tinges on his cheeks. It’s subtle, but I can’t ignore it. I feel a flicker of curiosity rises in me, but I push it away. I have enough on my plate without wondering if some random guest is interested in me.

   “Thank you. I was assigned room 312,” he says after a beat, pulling me from my thoughts. “Can you point me in that direction? I’m a little lost. It is my first time coming to this hotel.”

I smile and nod, offering to escort him to the elevator.

 

    "It’s just this way,” I reply, leading him through the hallway. We pass a few staff members along the way.

When we reach the elevator, I press the button and step back to give him space.

  "Just take the elevator up, you will find the room when you get to the floor,"

 The doors open, and he looks back at me with a grateful smile.

     “Thanks again for your help,” he says. “You’ve saved me from another wrong turn.”

     “No problem,” I say, offering him a smile of my own. “Enjoy your stay.”

As the doors close, I stand there for a moment, a little lost in thought. After gathering my thoughts,  I turn back. My phone's alarm rings and I quickly turn it off.

   "Oops, break time is over," I whisper to myself and quickly head back to the kitchen.