2. Bing, Bing and Bing

Hurriedly, I rushed to the bathroom, washed up then came out, I raced as I wiped my body. I picked up my uniform, fixed into my black-spotted white shirt then adjusted the zipper of my tightly-fit-straight-long black skirt before forcing my legs into the black flats by the corner. Then standing by my bed, I rolled my hair into a French bun that was too thick and heavy to be carried around, and since I've adapted to the style as I couldn't wear my hair in a ponytail or let it down like the others due to its massive length, I endured its disturbance on my neck.

Before rushing out, I stuck my iPhone by the front, on my stomach and since my shirt was tucked into the skirt, my phone was tightly positioned with the bottom into my skirt and the top visible outside, on my shirt. I hurried out, headed for the kitchen and walking in, I was questioned by the head chef, Samson Woods's menacing scowl.

"Sorry!" I apologized quickly as I didn't want to be queried so early. I had already taken a head net by the entrance so, on entering the kitchen I wore my apron then grabbed onto the transparent cooking gloves. Moving hurriedly in the kitchen, I gathered some olives, feta cheese, lettuce and red onions which were to be used in making the Greek salad. Amidst this, I placed water on the inductor and left it to heat up a little for the kippers dish, which is the second part of the main course.

Since today's a Monday and clearly not a Friday where I'd be stuck on preparing some French steak, I chose to serve cold chicken using rotisserie chicken which I prepared last night in readiness to give the ingredients time to sink it. It's a little like making marinated steak or chicken breast, only that in this case, the chicken will be left in the refrigerator while the ingredients settle in to provide a pleasant taste.

While I cracked the eggs, the kippers' accompaniment, onto a bowl, the water heated to the desired boiling point and removed from heat, I inserted the fish while stepping on a five minute countdown. During this process, the images appeared again and I started reminiscing on the event—the s*x scene; like it had actually happened. Honestly, it's really hard thinking about s*x while making food especially if it's for the same person who happens to be your boss. Quickly, I shook the thought away, to avoid slipping some smutty words or... worse, mentioning his name s*xily.

Hurrying, I finished with the Greek salad and staring, it's easy for one to notice that its taste would sting—tangy. Done, I removed the fish from the water and allowed it to rest while it was drained off of water. While it settled, I took the frying pan, rubbed little butter around it and shortly the scrambled egg was fully prepared.

The meal was prepared in less than twenty minutes and taking out the chicken from the refrigerator, I placed the meal on the dinner plate while I hurried to garnish the kippers with scrambled eggs. Just in case, I made toast bread, coupled with soya milk as well as coffee if the need arises then, I kept the jam, butter, poached eggs as accompaniment with some black, blue and raspberries by the side.

The main course was ready, perfectly garnished and so was the salad course which was served in a large bowl. Done with that, I aligned the dishes orderly before informing chef Samson, "I'm done, sir." I told him and afterwards, he picked some cutleries, and glanced my way before proceeding to take a bite.

Staring, my breath hitched, just a little; not that I'm an amateur, but there's always a ray of anxiety swooping around when I'm under inspection. But he stared wide eyed; eyes wide and for a while I felt that I might have gotten something mixed up; I did, not until his reaction softened with a huge smile that crept on his face. With this, I knew that he loved it and with a slight nod of his head, I knew I was free to leave.

*

I rushed out of the kitchen and as I hurried toward the storage room, my phone beeped. Pausing, I picked it up but before I could punch the green button, the call was aborted by the impatient caller who happens to be my best friend, Mandy. And as my eyes tangled on the screen, I sighed. I really wish I could speak with her, like… right now cuz her words are really soothing; and such is the perfect medicine I need to start my day and prepare adequately for the maddening horror that comes with Mondays in the Jackson mansion—home with the mixture of chaos!

Dipping my phone back, in my skirt, I cornered to the storage room, to pick up the cleaning equipment and there, Clarisse and Octavia were standing; gibbering something and as soon as they saw me, they paused. They were certainly gossiping about Sir Charles; again! Hastening, I moved, then gazed at the duo before me who left the door post to grant me access to the room.

Quickly, I picked the things I needed: a feather duster, wiping towel, polythene bag and a basket to take out sir Charles laundry after he leaves for work; then walked out of the room but, surprisingly, the girls were still standing—out. I was expecting them to have left the spot since they were gossiping very close to the storage room but their attitude was baffling. True, they remained at the spot but they behaved in the same manner, and like before when they saw me, they stopped talking.

Certainly the gossip was expensive!

"Why not wait till the boss leaves?" Antonia who bumped into me said as she saw the basket in my hands but I preferred to do the opposite as it was a habit of mine to work early.

It is clear what I am in this mansion. I'm not a chef because I'd need a diploma—which I clearly don't possess—to get to work as a chef for such a reputable person as Sir Charles but seeing that I'm the only non-chef who makes his meal, it's easy to guess. I'm a maid who cooks and the only one who does since I was requested to cook by the boss himself as it so happens that he loves my cooking skills. So, yeah I'm just an elevated maid; one who earns higher than the rest but lower than Antonia and James, the butler.

"I wanna finish my chores early." I explained to her.

"Then, I want it spotless!" That sounded more like an order and I squinted my brows with highly-raised glossy eyes and a broad smile that told her how weird ordering me was.

"Sure!" I said and she tapped my arm before walking past me with a soft chuckle.

I walked along but was dragged back as my phone chimed. Struggling due to the quantity of the things I was holding onto, I dragged it out of my skirt. Shifting, I stabbed the button as Mandy was the one calling again. Hastily, I placed the phone on my ear while it propped against my shoulder. Without giving me a chance to speak, Mandy's voice rang out, "love!" And amidst this, I heard Antonia yell and I knew she was scolding Clarisse and Octavia for lagging behind their duty roles.

Ignoring, I mumbled an ouch then giggled at Mandy's "What's my favorite fan doin'?" Mandy screeched into my ear and I felt like trashing my phone.

Anyways, I didn't!

"I'm just working!" I slipped then fastened my steps towards the stairs.

"Hmmm,"

"What?" I squinted my face, not sure where Mandy's was headed cuz that's her being waggish!

"Working on your boss, uhn?" She echoed and bumps rolled around my cheeks. I looked sideways and there about, to check if someone was nearby, as though someone could listen to our conversation with the interactions on private mode.

"Stop that-" I warned and then she giggled and instantly I was abashed. Swallowing, I felt arrows of waves sweep into me and soon, I found myself s*cking my lips. Flushed, I chuckled at my gullibility.

As I wasn't conscious of my movement due to the intensity of our chit-chat, my body collided with something and I was cut off from our discussion before I could finish. I bumped into something or… maybe someone and everything that I was holding fell off—including my phone which flew to the right. I stumbled; almost falling and it was sir Charles's grip; the grip of a real man that saved me from the shame of tripping.

The first thing that caught my attention were his eyes, striking—piercing and then the fowl that crawled along with it—his not-so-jocund countenance. Then his grip which was firm and obsessive. Maybe I should appreciate his vigor; so bashing, which I'm acquainted with on a platter of gold or his gentlemanly exuberance which is splashed in faith.

What part of him deserves more appreciation than the other? I'm dazzled and truly, sir, NO, let's make it informal for once, Charles Jackson is a specimen to behold! Watching, it seemed like another estranged dream; only that it isn't. His gesture is maddening—striking and it sucked my attention. Generally, the whole scenario did.

Clumsy maid saved by her gorgeous boss! How cute?

Now, that'd make headlines. It'd really do! From his grip on me which was maddening to his scent that was already all over the place then his sexy demeanor; that Monday morning maddening coldness and oh… those blue eyes, there was no way I was going to ignore this face this morning. Fate already decided that!

Hands down!

I gazed at his towering figure and as deep blue eyes stared into my black angrily, the words were forced out and soon I found myself apologizing. "I'm sorry sir!" Not that I didn't want to but I was overly distracted by what just happened. I stared into his face and he did the same, though differently; in rage while telling me to get the hell out of his path. He really hates clumsiness; the reason why Claudia gets into trouble all the time and I almost forgot, HE DOESN'T TOLERATE LAZINESS!

"Morning sir!" I greeted them then moved aside and all I got for a response was sir Charles walking away.

"Get those hands clean!" He ordered as he heard me scramble at the things that fell on the floor. And I didn't need him to tell me this one as I was planning to wash them again anyways. Else, there would be a cut off, from my pay and worse, I could get nothing for the month or get fired if I'm spotted dirty.

That's how it is here, he's a little strict. I try to never get in his way or annoy him, everyone does! No one's willing to risk losing their job, no one that's working with sir Charles—the multi-billionaire.

The chaos I talked about was already beginning to happen even before eight o'clock. James, the butler who had just descended the stairs with sir Charles' briefcase, gazed at me; warning and quickly, I picked up my phone in readiness to join sir Charles. Erotic thoughts swayed away, no longer moving in scribbling bits for a moment and realizing what this was; not my dream, certainly, I was bathed in alertness, moving into the business of the day and the most important theme of all the employees—PLEASING sir Charles!

NOW THIS IS REALITY!