Raison D'être

Small Talk Gone Awry

Anastasia

I wake up feeling the lull of the car before my eyes adjust. As we pass the guards on either side of the gate, I see Pyro and Tyson running around in the grass that goes on for miles. Stepping out of the car, Pyro comes bolting towards me and Tyson follows along, I give them the attention they seek before thanking Brent and walking inside. Feeling a little hungry, remembering I skipped lunch, I make my way inside the kitchen to see Laura wiping the counter.

"Hello dear. How was work?"

"It was busy today. A bit sore, but I'll manage. How was your day?"

"Excellent. I just tidied up a few things here and there. I couldn't clean upstairs though because of my leg, could you do that for me when you get a chance?"

"Of course, let me put on my uniform real quick." Speed walking down the halls and making my way inside the room, I get dressed before walking out the kitchen. "So I just clean the upstairs?"

"Yes dear, but leave his office alone. It's the room with the double doors."

"Oh okay," so his office doesn't get cleaned? Does Laura do that? Or does he not want me inside?

Laura interrupts the questions firing in my mind, "I'm just going to go and take a nap. Wake me when you're done so I can help you make dinner."

Waving her off, "oh that's alright Laura, enjoy your nap."

"You sure dear? You already went to work early in the morning..."

"Oh, that's no big deal, besides you need to rest your legs. Please, I insist."

"Benedici il tuo cuore" she smiles before walking off, putting more pressure on one leg than the other. I start to curse myself for not taking Italian in high school, desperately wanting to know what all these Italians are saying. Leaving the kitchen, I walk up the familiar steps. And of course, the first person that comes to mind is Mr. Amoretto. I feel the heat of my cheeks remembering the first time I really saw him, seeing his face for the first time. Although his eyes are what caught mine, his deep and silky voice did wonders to my body. Literal shivers ran down my spine at the thought of his voice. Whether it was his sculpted jaw, the roughness of his cheekbones, his deep brows, or his plump lower lip; I couldn't help but be fascinated by the beautiful and successful man who had a sense of mystery to him that only drove me to be more curious than I should be. Walking in his room, I am familiarized in the dark yet comfortable room I first woke up in. His scent was strong in the room, but an even stronger whiff was caught as I fluffed up his pillow. My God. This man looked, smelled, and was literal perfection. Thinking of what Carla said, my cheeks turn a deep shade of crimson. [Bless your heart]

Needing to get the man out of her head, she organizes the nightstand before seeing a frame pictured with a beautiful dirty blonde next to Lorenzo. She's just as tall with her heels and her slender legs on display as she wore a beautiful white dress cut off at the knees. His arm wrapped around her waist, her bright smile, dimples, and crystal blue eyes, similar to Carla's, looked stunning. He looked as ravishing as he always does, only in the picture he was wearing a blue suit, no tie, and a few of his buttons undone leaving part of his chest on display. Jealousy is a cruel feeling.  

Wiping down the nightstand, she puts several items away. Opening the drawer to put the Holy Bible inside, she sees prescription drugs, confirming that they were his. Eszopiclone, a powerful sedative. She knew this drug was prescribed to people with insomnia, and couldn't help but wonder, what keeps him up at night? Putting the drug back, she walked over to his closet. His scent was even stronger there, shaking away the crude thoughts as they crept in, she picked up the dress shirts off the ground. She couldn't help herself and inhaled the scent off his shirt before putting it back. The bathroom was a drastic change. A sudden shift from the dark black, greys, and purples she walked in to find his bathroom a stark white with accents of gold along the tiled floor, the marble counter, and the sink, although he kept within the color scheme by adding purple here and there. Remembering him saying he helped design the place, she smiles. His taste was subtly extravagant, but she's not surprised at remembering the American Express he gave her. Mopping up the tile and drying it, she leaves. Walking out to the loft she fluffs up the pillows, vacuums, and dusts the place. Unsure of how to reach the fan that was placed in the center of the high ceiling, she climbed on top of the couch and tried to peer over dusting. Too busy struggling, she didn't notice Lorenzo walking up the steps.