This Charming Man

Eighteen

Mr Weekes was still asleep when I entered despite his alarm buzzing loud and clear on his bedside table. I switched it off for him and walked over to open the curtains. The early sunrise was beautifully blinding, the clouds brilliant shades of combined purple, red and orange but this only meant there would be rain later at some point. I was alright with that though since all my work would be inside today.

Mr Weekes still hadn't stirred when I walked over to his wardrobe and took out his suit jacket and pants and hung them up on the folding screen. I heard the bed creak as I was searching through his chest of drawers and I peered over my shoulder to see Mr Weekes sat up and rubbing his eyes. His hair was its usual early morning mess and his eyes, dusted with sleep, lit up when he saw me.

"Morning, Brendon," he said, his voice rough in the early morning. He leaned back against the headboard and stretched his arms out.

"Morning, Mr Weekes," I said cheerfully , taking his shirt over to hang with his suit on the folding screen.

"How are you? A-after yesterday I mean," he asked, a little hesitantly and I paused. I'd been trying my hardest all night to forget yesterday since it had been embarrassing enough and I'd quite happily let work, Ryan and Spencer distract me from it up until now. Where I couldn't escape it.

"O-okay," I mumbled, avoiding looking at him, although I could feel his eyes fixed on me.

"Good. You really needn't be so embarrassed about it, Brendon," Mr Weekes said and I heard the bed creak again as he stood up.

I said nothing and shrugged, my eyes fixed on the floor. I waited until he had closed the bathroom door behind him before picking up all the pillows he'd strewn around the room and arranging them neatly back in place. I looked at the spot Mr Weekes had been sitting on last night and felt a shiver creep up my spine and a blush colour my cheeks. I looked away quickly and tried my best to ignore the fluttering feeling erupting in my stomach as I cleaned up the rest of the room.

Mr Weekes emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair semi dry and even more of a mess than it had been when he woke up. I suddenly felt strongly aware that Mr Weekes had seen me mostly naked and I'd only ever seen his top half. Even in the bath, I'd avoided looking at anything below his neck. It was strange thinking this man had seen me naked and yet my own best friends had only ever seen the back of me when they'd barged in on me in the bathroom by accident.

Shaking the thought away, I handed Mr Weekes his underwear over the top of the screen.

"What are you up to today, Brendon?" he asked.

"Uh... I was supposed to be cleaning out one of the bigger baths today but Mr Wentz asked me to go and help out Mr Trohman," I said.

"Who's Mr Trohman?" Mr Weekes asked, his hand appearing over the top.

"He's the proprietor," I replied, handing him his shirt.

"Oh wow. Moving up in the world, are we?"

I frowned. "Not really. He told Mr Wentz to pick anyone who wasn't too busy. I don't know why he picked me though. I'm not exactly reliable."

"Oh I'm sure you're not that bad," Mr Weekes said, taking his suit pants from me.

"I was half an hour late this morning," I said bluntly.

"Oh. But it was a one time thing, right? Doesn't matter."

"Mhm," was all I could vocalise and Mr Weekes emerged from behind the screen tucking his shirt in.

"Well I hope you have a pleasant time with Mr Trohman," Mr Weekes said and walked over to the mirror to fix his hair.

"You too," I nearly said but stopped myself and smiled cheerfully. "Thank you. Are you working all day?"