When we were young // Anthony Bridgerton

Chapter 22

       Anthony had never realized how difficult his father's job actually was. Even though he oftenly saw Edmund Bridgerton staying locked in his office working and solving problems for days, for some reason, he had never thought it would be as exhausting and heavy as it was being this days. Especially after going to Eton and learning about finances and management; where everything was so, so easy.
But in real life, the story was different. It was paper after paper, problem after problem, a job that never seemed to end. For about a month, Anthony wouldn't leave that study for nothing; the few hours he slept, he slept right there on the couch, and he ate whatever the servants or sometimes even Belle brought him. Things were a little easier when Belle's brother, Viscount Whitmore, was at Aubrey Hall to help him and give him some tips on how to do all that work. But now that Nicholas had returned to Mayfair to solve his own problems, Anthony was alone in this never ending storm.
That day, Anthony, for a change, had slept in his office. He slept relatively peacefully. Apparently he had already gotten used to the padding on the sofa, which was surely much less comfortable than his bed whose mattress was made of goose feathers.
He slept well, until he was abruptly awakened by the sound of his door opening. He then opened his eyes and looked towards the door; and the image he saw was of a smiling girl carrying a silver tray. It was Belle. It was such a beautiful image that Anthony at first glance considered it to be a hallucination.
- Belle? Is that you? - Anthony asked, rubbing his eyes to try to figure out if that image was really true. And to his surprise, it was as real as it could be.

Although Belle has always been an extremely attentive and affectionate girl, from time to time she always found a way to surprise people (even if it was with a simple slice of her delicious brownie). Even so, Anthony was really surprised - he simply wasn't expecting her visit this time in the morning.

- Who else would it be? - the brunette asked, chuckling lightly with the boy's question.

- No one - the tired viscount said, changing position to sit. He then reached to his' father's watch and noted - You woke up too early.

- Yeah, well, you've been working a lot and nonstop the last few days so I thought I'd bring you a good breakfast. You know what they say; Nothing that a good tea and a sandwich won't solve - Belle said, placing the tray on the coffee table, next to the sofa where the Viscount was previously sleeping - So, have the dreaded wigs been giving you a lot of problems lately?

Viscount Bridgerton couldn't help but chuckle at the girl's statement. Belle, as always, called his' secretaries "dreaded wigs", since they all made use of this artifact, and they were in fact, most of the times, a pain in the ass.
- I already asked you to stop calling them that - he said, trying to speak in a stern tone and pretend he didn't adored when she called them that.

- And I will stop. As soon as they all stop using wigs and stop being a bunch of jerks.

He smiled slightly. If he wasn't so sleepy he would probably start to cry laughing at the girl's statement. But instead, he took a bite of that steamy ham and cheese sandwich. And God, it tasted so freaking good.

- So, how is it? - Belle asked hopefully

- Its perfect. Thank you very much.

- You're welcome.

Belle then suddenly stood up, and began walking around the study that once belonged to her godfather, Edmund Bridgerton. She observed every single corner of that room, and she noticed that Anthony hadn't changed nothing at all since Edmund's death. He hadn't removed his' father's jacket, that was still hanging on the clothes rack since that day. Nor his boots, which were resting beside the door. He didn't exchange his' father's painting for a painting of himself, the current Viscount Bridgerton, as tradition dictated. And honestly, that didn't surprise her at all. Knowing Anthony as well as she did, Belle was sure that he would never remove that painting from that place.
The hazel eyed girl then approached the office table, and she widened her eyes when she saw the unreal pile of papers that still awaited the viscount's sign.
- I see you still have a bit of work to do - Belle ironized, pointing to that pile that looked more like a tower than anything else