Infatuated

Two

The morning sun shines through the floor-to-ceiling windows, brightening up the room as I hastily make the bed. Rarely do I ever wake later than seven—it being a quarter till ten now—so I assume my body is merely jet-lagged. The left side of the bed was cold when I awoke, meaning Lorenzo must've been up for a while. Why didn't he wake me by eight? After finishing the bed, I retrieve my cream-colored cardigan from the closet and make my way downstairs.

It's a rather large villa we're staying in, so I don't intend on hearing much, but the house almost feels too quiet. Rounding the corner, my eyes scan over the vacant living room; the only sound being the low murmur of the T.V. broadcasting some home-renovation channel. I saunter into the kitchen with a yawn, pleased to at least see someone in the house.

"Good morning."

Josephine lifts her gaze from the sink, smiling as she sets the glass down. "Hey, look who's finally awake," she jokes.

"Your kid was worried about you."

I furrow my brows, "Who?"

"Nicolette."

I hum, not surprised she was concerned about my whereabouts. I walk to the refrigerator, pulling out the chilled jug of orange juice. I don't miss that some of the eggs are gone from the compartment, along with some fruit. Has everyone eaten? Where is everyone, for that matter?

"Is it just you in here?" I ask.

She nods.

"They went on some boat riding thing; they left about twenty minutes ago. But Lorenzo fixed you a plate, so it's in the microwave whenever you're ready for it."

One could question why Jo didn't go on the boat rides, but that would just imply they don't truly know Josephine Stephens. The woman thrives of order, structure, and power—three qualities she wouldn't obtain on a swaying boat in the vast ocean. Opening the microwave, I remove the side bowl of assorted fruits before heating up the plate of eggs and waffles. As I wait, I observe Josephine at the counter scrolling through her phone. Black manicured nails rest upon her fingers, whilst her body is clad in a white lace mini dress that could easily pass as a bikini cover. Come to think of it. . . I believe it is a bikini cover.

"So, how was your meeting?" I ask, the beep of the microwave clearing my thoughts.

"Haven't had it yet."

"Oh," I mutter. "Is the connection all right?"

She eyes me through her lashes, a slight furrow of her brows as her lips purse. "Well, judging by the fact it's midnight there, I would sure hope it hasn't started yet."

I pause in cutting the waffle, a breathy chuckle escaping my nose as I remember the time difference. I mouth 'sorry' before shoveling a piece of food in my mouth, purposely preoccupying myself.

"There's nothing to apologize for, Corinne."

My chews slow as I flick my eyes to hers, my gaze following her movements as she rounds the corner towards the sink. Her dress has a deep v-neck and is backless, showing off more of her tan skin than it covers. I subconsciously straighten my posture and draw in my cardigan as she's only ten feet away.

Why? I have no fathomable idea.

"So," Josephine begins over her shoulder, "how are those students of yours? Any of them almost cost you your position yet?"

My hand flies to my throat, trying to soothe the burning feeling, as the orange juice goes down the wrong pipe. My lips curl up slightly, baffled she's insinuating I'm sleeping with one of my students. Her hand is perched on her hip; steel eyes boring into my chocolate ones as she awaits an answer.