PENTHOUSE 521

six | mr. bernardi. . ?

Warm water streamed down my back as I washed my hair. With a soaped up loofa, I scrubbed at my skin vigorously, cleaning myself.

Today was the day.

I had made sure to wake up at 7:30 am, wanting to have a few hours to shower and have breakfast. Earlier this morning, I had called into work since I didn't know how long my first-day cleaning for Mr. Bernardi would be.

Over the phone, Carlos's voice droned before he mumbled out an "It's fine. You can take the day off since you gave me a heads up him before your shift, but I expect you to open up and close shop tomorrow."

Asshole.

I had expected it since it was him, after all. Carlos pulled this type of shit daily. However, that didn't make it sting any less. His words made it feel like I was bitch slapped across the face.

Sighing, I turned the tap off. The showerhead came to a stop as water droplets ceased falling. I grabbed my towel from the towel bar outside and wrapped it around my waist. Then walked out of my shower and went to my vanity.

I applied moisturizer to my skin before spritzing myself with some body wash. From an early age, I had learned the importance of taking care of one's skin. Humming, I rubbed in some hair oils before brushing my hair and putting on my white robe and I tied it off.

Minutes later, when I entered the kitchen, my eyes met Dorian. I was a bit surprised. After all, I hadn't seen her last night because I was so tired after work I ended up passing out after brushing my teeth. She was seated on a barstool, already dressed in her cafe uniform, and having breakfast while reading the morning paper. An incredible aroma greeted my nose.

"Good morning, Cat," she hummed before taking a sip of coffee.

"Morning." I smiled. "What did you cook? It smells yummy." I asked as I attempted to locate the delicious source.

"Just some blueberry pancakes. I know they're your favorite, and I wanted to do something special for you since it's the first day of your new job." She bit into a forkful of her own plate of pancakes.

"Aw, thank you!" I placed my hand over my heart, touched by the gesture. I walked over to serve myself some of the ones cooling on a tray on top of the stove. Carefully, I poured some maple syrup on them and licked off the remnants from the bottle off my fingertips. "Wow, you really outdid yourself," I mumbled, no, nearly moaned. "These are some of the best you've made."

"It's my grandmother's special recipe. New York's finest." She grinned as she deposited her dishes in the sink. "Well, I got to go soon, but everything went well with the buyer yesterday." She smiled as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

It almost slipped my mind.

"Or should I say their representative?" She laughed before she shook her head. "It was a kind woman. She was tall, brunette, with gorgeous blue eyes and tanned skin. She was stunning. In all honesty, I think she'd be better off on the runway than for whoever she's working with."

"Glad it went well, but maybe she does it for good pay?" I finished eating my pancakes and turned on the tap, starting to clean our dishes. I couldn't help but wonder what type of housework I'd be doing for Mr. Bernardi. Maybe I'd be working in the kitchen? I wonder if he has any other maids. .?