Guard of heart

The dream

The kitchen was bright and modern, with gleaming stainless steel appliances and a large marble island. The room buzzed with activity. A couple of maids bustled around, one cleaning the countertops with precision while another polished the silverware. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, mingling with the sharp scent of lemon cleaner.

Cicely, the maid who was always at the center of kitchen gossip, was arranging fresh fruit on the counter with dramatic flair. Her dark hair was tied back tightly, and her eyes—always glinting with the latest tidbit—were now focused on me.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Hailsin,” Cicely greeted with a wide, knowing smile. Her voice was warm, but there was an unmistakable twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Can I get you something?”

“Hi, Cicely,” I said, feeling a bit of relief wash over me at the sight of a friendly face. “I’d love a coffee. I just need a break.”

“Certainly,” Cicely replied, her hands moving with practiced ease to the coffee maker. She glanced around at the busy kitchen, then back at me with an exaggerated sigh. “If you’d like, you can wait in the living room or dining room. I’ll bring it to you.”

“No, no, I’ll stay here,” I said, leaning against the counter and trying to ignore the tight knot of anxiety in my chest. The kitchen’s bustle was a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my mind. I tried to focus on the hum of the coffee machine and the clink of utensils, but the weight of the earlier news lingered, casting a shadow over my thoughts.

“Is everything okay, Ms. Hailsin?” Cicely’s tone was laced with genuine concern, though her eyes sparkled as if she was itching to dive into the latest drama.

I forced a smile, trying to sound nonchalant despite the worry gnawing at me. “Nothing, just working alone upstairs is so tiring without Mr. Wilkins. I feel like all my senses are dulling in his absence. When he’s here, I need to keep all my wits about me, or he’ll make me stay on my toes,” I said, chuckling awkwardly. The laughter felt hollow, a weak mask for my growing unease.

Cicely nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. “I know what you mean. It’s different when he’s not around. The whole place feels oddly serene. We’re just cooking for ourselves now, and the quiet is almost too much.”

*Serene? I thought, raising an eyebrow. if she only knew how loud my thoughts are right now.*

As Cicely spoke, her hands expertly measured out coffee grounds. The drama in her demeanor was undeniable—she practically glided across the room, her movements almost theatrical. “Oh, but when Allen is here, it’s a different story.”

“Who is Allen?” I asked, trying to focus on her words and not the whirlwind of thoughts in my head.

“He’s the boss’s youngest son, Allen Wilkins,” Cicely said with a flair, as if she was about to reveal the latest plot twist in a soap opera. “He’s quite the character. When he’s around, the kitchen is always a whirlwind. He’s got this huge appetite and insists on having something different for every meal—Italian for breakfast, Chinese for lunch, Spanish for dinner. It’s a lot of work, but it makes things interesting.”

I raised my eyebrows, intrigued despite myself. “I’ve never heard about him from Mr. Wilkins.”

Cicely’s expression shifted slightly as she poured the coffee into a cup. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Really? Didn’t he mention Allen? I mean,” Cicely glanced around and noticed the other maids leaving, then leaned in closer, her eyes darting around. “I mean, the oldest isn’t exactly the same.Adrian Wilkins, he’s very reserved. He just comes in, eats, and leaves. He doesn’t really give us any work as he sticks to his diet plan.”

I nodded, absorbing the information. The conversation was a curious distraction, but it did little to ease the tight knot of anxiety in my chest.

Cicely leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, the real drama is between Mr. Wilkins and Adrian.” Her eyes gleamed with the excitement of sharing a juicy tidbit. “Mr. Wilkins allowed Allen to pursue his dream of becoming a musician, and he’s studying in Switzerland, living his life the way he wants. But when it comes to Adrian, it’s a different story.”

I took a sip of my coffee, trying to focus on her words despite the swirl of thoughts in my head. “How so?”

“Mr. Wilkins always had grand plans for Adrian,” Cicely continued, her voice filled with a mix of gossip and concern. “He wanted Adrian to take over the family business—basically, to become the next CEO. He even got him a spot at a top business university with the expectation that Adrian would step into the role seamlessly.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure,” I commented, trying to imagine the burden.

Cicely nodded vigorously. “It is! But here’s the twist: Adrian doesn’t want that at all. He dreams of traveling the world, seeing new places, and living a free-spirited life. He’s always had this passion for exploration. But Mr. Wilkins won’t hear of it.”

She leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Mr. Wilkins said, ‘You can fulfill your dream of traveling once you’ve proven yourself as the CEO and taken the company to new heights.’ He insists that Adrian has to take over the business first before he can even think about doing anything else.”

I frowned, trying to imagine the tension. “So, Adrian’s stuck between his dream and his father’s expectations?”

“Exactly,” Cicely said, her eyes filled with sympathy. “Adrian feels suffocated by his father’s demands. He wants to live his life on his own terms, but Mr. Wilkins is adamant that family responsibilities come first. It’s created a real rift between them.”

Her expression turned serious as she continued. “The last time Adrian came home, there was a massive argument. He was set on taking a year off to travel with his friends, and Mr. Wilkins refused to support it. The argument ended with Adrian leaving in anger, and they haven’t spoken much since.”

I took another sip of my coffee, processing the weight of the situation. “It sounds like a tough situation for both of them.”

“It is,” Cicely said with a sigh. “Adrian’s caught between wanting to follow his own dreams and the expectations placed on him. And Mr. Wilkins, well, he’s struggling with his own pride and his vision for the family’s future. It’s created a real fracture in their relationship.”

She glanced around the kitchen, then handed me my coffee. “I hope this doesn’t make things too awkward for you. Just remember, what you’ve heard stays between us.”

I accepted the coffee with a nod, feeling a mix of guilt and understanding. The new perspective on the family dynamics added depth to my view of Mr. Wilkins and his relationships. As I headed back to the elevator, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the complexities of the Wilkins family were just beginning to unravel for me.
_____

I returned to my desk and took a deep breath. *Focus, Elara. You need to get this done.* With renewed determination, I began drafting the email once more.

This time, the words flowed more easily as I expressed the necessary updates and assured the managing director of our continued diligence in Mr. Wilkins’ absence. The familiarity of the task and the comforting routine of my workspace helped ground me.

As I finished the email and hit send, a sense of accomplishment washed over me. Despite the uncertainty surrounding Mr. Wilkins, I felt a little more in control of my own tasks.

I looked around the office, the quiet stillness of the mansion now a backdrop to my focused efforts. *One step at a time,* I told myself, determined to handle each challenge as it came.