andrea
The three-storey house came into view, and I pulled out a few bank notes, thanking the driver for his service. There was a car parked by the roadside, the familiar black Mercedes that he drove to Hampstead in. A redhead sat inside, barely noticeable through the tinted windows. Janice. It must be this house. Walking up to the door, I took a deep breath, wiping my sweaty palms against my jeans. I didn't understand why I was nervous, I even got a word of encouragement from my brother and his fianceé about this. My knuckles came into contact with the oak door, and it didn't take long before Niall opened the front door.
"Andrea, glad you could make it. Sorry for the inconvenience, I'll be back soon to explain everything," He frowns, ushering me into the house. A band-aid was wrapped around his thumb, the white stained a blood red. Ouch. "Regine's in her room, I have to go now. My apologies." He rushes out of the door, slamming it behind him as he went. I crept up the stairs, looking around his house. It was gorgeous, his wedding picture framed up by the fireplace in the living room. Pictures of Regine adorning the wall as I ascended up to the second floor. It was picture-perfect. I stopped at the door with one of those signs that read 'Regine', peering inside.
There she sat, a few dolls strewn all around her. "Hi Regine," I grinned, entering her room. She turned to look at me, her eyes a pretty shade of aqua. "Hello," She giggled, returning to her dolls. "I'm Andrea. I work for your daddy," I introduced myself, and she eagerly scampers to my feet. "Mommy says she's changing my surname. I'm not daddy's daughter," She laughs, not knowing the severity of this situation. They were getting a divorce? They seemed happy earlier this week at the office, rather close and one of those sappy couples. Seems otherwise. I was rather impressed with Regine's command of language, she was only four."Would you like to watch a movie?" I offered, looking through her DVD collection stacked up on her shelf. My offer was met with a toothy grin, and her ecstatic nodding.
* * *
Mr. Horan came bursting through the door at nine, but his footsteps quietened once he saw Regine's head on my lap, her eyes closed shut. She had been long asleep, she knocked out right after dinner. She reminded me a lot of Niall, a little less of Janice was seen in her. "I'll bring her to her room," He said quietly, picking his daughter up and carrying her upstairs. I adjusted my shirt which had fallen a little off my shoulder since Regine's head pulled the bottom of it down by quite a bit.
"Janice and I," Mr. Horan began the moment he came downstairs, his palms smoothing over his skin in an attempt to calm himself down. "We haven't been doing so well. Whatever you saw on Tuesday was Janice being her usual sarcastic self. She's trying to gain full custody of Regine after our divorce matters are settled."
"She can manipulate her daughter pretty well," I murmured, but perhaps too loudly, as his head whipped towards me. "Nothing, sorry." I was knowing too much information about their family matters. I was an outsider, I had no say in their issues. I grabbed my bag from the couch, getting ready to leave. It wasn't early in the night, and all I wanted to do was letting my head hit my pillow.
"How are you heading home?" He asked, standing a few feet behind me. "I'm taking a cab," I turned, nodding with a smile as a way of saying goodbye. He fishes his car keys out from one of the cases by the door, shaking his head. "It's too late. I'll take you home." I couldn't deny the fact that I swooned at his concern, but I wasn't a kid. Still, he insisted to drive me home.
The silence drifting about this time was a comfortable one. His soft humming to the music playing on the radio put a silly smile on my face for no reason at all. It was so odd... He wasn't even doing anything. Maybe it was just the charm he possessed all this while. "Thank you for sending me back," I breathed, pushing the car door open. "It was a pleasure, Andrea. Thank you for taking care of Regine. See you on Monday," He assured me that it was no big deal, waving me off.
* * *
The dark eye-bags under his icy blue eyes were more prominent, making him look a few years older than he really was. His hair wasn't the usual combed-back style like it was the previous week, but rather messy and unkempt. It was unlike him, really. I think the legal matters have gotten to him somehow, and he was quite irritable that Monday morning. Apart from the fact that his receptionist had been fired and a younger, less wrinkly lady had filled in her spot, nothing else seemed less gloomy. Not even the weather was being in the least bit helpful to lift everyone's spirits.
He had lots of meetings rescheduled for this afternoon, a red line between his brows becoming more prominent. He was having a migraine. Niall had taken a few trips to the pantry in the past hour, constantly refilling his mug with coffee and water. He took a few pills too, but he seemed as restless as he was before. Maybe it was the legal matters, or simply the monday blues. Maybe he wasn't afraid of losing Janice, but rather, Regine.
"Andrea," His scratchy voice called my office telephone at five that afternoon. "My office, now, please."
I hurriedly got up from my desk chair, brisk-walking over to his office. I knocked twice, knuckles against the solid material, before making my way inside. "Yes, Mr. Horan?"
He looked more dishevelled than ever, his desk a mess. "I just wanted to tell you that I won't be around in the office tomorrow, I'll be handling the court matters. It's been a rough weekend," He forces a smile, but his eyes remain downcast. "Hope you come and see Regine again, too. She likes you."
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and my heart was warmed by the fact that my boss' daughter enjoyed being in my company. She was a pure little blossom, and it was a joy being around such an adorable figure. "Regine is lovely to be around, I'll be sure to make some time for that right little scrapper," I laughed, attempting to lighten the situation. "Thank you, Andrea. Thank you," Mr. Horan says, his words barely a whisper as he massages his temples.
He had nothing to thank me for - I was just as in debt to him as he was to me.
