This Charming Man

Nine

"Brendon!"

I looked up and saw Gabe sticking his head round the door. He nodded to me. "Mr Wentz wants to see you."

I frowned and put the plate I was washing up on the draining board. "Why?"

Gabe shrugged. "No idea. But I'd get going if I was you," and left.

I swallowed and undid my apron. Spencer took it from me and leaned across to hang it up. He muttered, "I doubt you're in trouble. Don't worry."

I nodded, trying to take his word for it, and left the kitchens.

Mr Wentz was sat at his usual place behind his desk in the reception. He looked up as soon as I walked in and gestured for me to come over.

"Urie, Mr Weekes wants a bath. Go arrange it for him," he said shortly, scribbling in his reception book.

I froze and blinked up at him. "What?"

Mr Wentz frowned down at me. "Go run bath 6. Now," he said sternly, handing me a token and turned away to greet a customer. I gripped the token tightly. I could feel my cheeks turning red and tried to block out the titillating images that were creeping into my thoughts as I stumbled nervously back through the hallways to the bath room.

Bath 6 was empty and I was thankful to whoever cleaned it that morning. I hung up the curtains on the hooks and set about preparing the bath. After sending the token up the shoot, I pulled the cord on the half pipe and pulled it down over the bath where it began filling up. I was kneeling down arranging soaps and cleansing products in their basket when I heard someone cough behind me. I peered over my shoulder and saw Mr Weekes standing in the archway in a white dressing gown. I stood up quickly and smiled, hoping like hell I wasn't blushing. Or at least he wouldn't notice I was.

"Is it ready, Brendon?" Mr Weekes asked, his head tilted every so slightly to the side.

I blinked and nodded quickly, stuttering, "Y-yeah, yeah, it is. Th-this way, Mr Weekes."

I picked up the towels and quickly ran over to place them outside. "I-I'll be waiting out here, Mr Weekes. Help yourself to anything," I said, gesturing to the basket of soaps.

Mr Weekes frowned slightly and pursed his lips. "Not helping me bathe?" he asked.

I paused and I felt my face flush completely. "I-I d-don't think I-I..." I began to mumble but he waved his hand dismissively.

"It doesn't matter really. I doubt I've got anything you haven't seen before," he grinned and started undoing his bathrobe.

I stared in complete awe before I tore my eyes away from the spectacle and rushed over to the archway. "M-Mr Weekes, wait!"

He stopped and looked over at me as I fumbled with the curtains, getting one caught on the hook. I fumbled desperately with it and I froze when a pair of gentle hands lured mine away to carefully unhook the curtain. Mr Weekes pulled the curtain closed and smiled down at me cheerily.

"Th-thank you," I mumbled shyly and he chuckled softly in response. He returned to the edge of the bath and I looked away as he shrugged off his robe. I kept my head ducked and my eyes on the floor, determined not to sneak a peek.

"Brendon?"

I glanced up. Mr Weekes was holding out the bathrobe expectantly. He gave me a small encouraging smile and I quickly went over to take it from him and hang it up. He leant back against the ledge and watched me stand awkwardly by the archway unsure of what to do. Mr Weekes chuckled softly and patted the floor next to him.

"Lay a towel down. Come and sit with me," he said.

I hesitated before picking up a towel off the pile. I was a hundred percent sure I wasn't supposed to be doing this. Mr Wentz always talked about how important customer privacy was but Mr Weekes didn't seem to mind in the slightest. He was even encouraging me to sit with him. I'd never done anything like this before.