In His Arms

Chapter 5

For a long, while the only sounds between us are the occasional rustling of him shifting his papers and a soft unknown to me melody playing int he background. Trying to avoid just awkwardly sitting there and staring at him, I let my eyes take in my new surroundings, doing my best to remember every detail of the room I am in.

The living area is the impressive, bejewelled Seattle skyline. With shades of charcoal, smoke, black and gold present on all surfaces, the floor even appears to be grey marble. No surprise there...Heavily masculine and modern in shape, most of the furniture look and feel very formal, clad in leather with soft cotton cushions leaning against the armrests.

"Mr Holt," the driver interrupts, causing me to jump at the suddenness of his voice. "Where do you want Ms Summer's things to be?"

Things? What things? I didn't bring anything with me!

His lips are set into a grim line when the question is asked, he hesitates for a while before he responds curtly, "My room, Ford. Please place her things in my bedroom."

Looking at him in horror, my eyes are the size of marbles at his response, confused and a little bit panicky, I question him cautiously "My stuff? Why does the driver have my stuff, Mr Holt? I thought..."

"As I had told you twice on the phone," Mr Holt scowls at me, clearly showing disapproval at my utter confusion. "I would like to do a day's trial run with you for the position of being that child's nanny, it being since you managed to keep it alive for the night."

Alive for the night? So, what has Danny had a lot of near-death experiences in the last trial runs with other more professional nannies?

Shocked at his words, I look at this successful, irritating, asshole of a father, wishing internally that I could punch his lights out. "First of all, I did not agree to look after Danny for one whole night, you just up and left when work called so I wasn't given a choice in that matter. Secondly, even if I say I do want to do the trial run, isn't there a guest room or a nursery that I can sleep in? Like did all the women who did trial runs before me have to sleep with you in your room?"

"Don't have one," He reveals, his eyes as cold as ice as he looks at me irritatedly form his papers. My heart sinks to my stomach at the thought of this baby sleeping on the floor but his next words put my heart to ease...well, only a little. "The child sleeps in a fold away cot in my room. To answer your second enquiry, I do have a guest bedroom but I'd much prefer it if I can observe how you do your work through the night."

Gritting my teeth in protest, the wheels in my brain turn wildly as I try to figure out a way to get out of this and like in those cartoons, I feel a light bulb light u[p over my head. "Baby monitors can easily fix that issue, Mr Holt. Not only will I not have to invade your personal space, I will be able to be monitored over a video system that you can review whenever you want. All we have to do is purchase a set."

Mr Holt is silent.

See I found a solution that'd accommodate us both Ha!

"Very well," he decides to let the matter rest. "If that's what you want."

Apprehensive about what is packed inside the three rather large looking boxes Mr Ford places in the guest bedroom as requested by me, Mr Holt though he did say it was only a day trial gives me a map and a brief tour of his 'apartment', which is more like a palace in the sky if you ask me. The place is huge with fourteen rooms which covers two floors of the building.

The word for a place like this is a penthouse. My subconscious snaps irritatedly at my inability to produce the word sooner even going so low as to call this residence 'a palace in the sky'. Shame on an editor like you!

With a library, a personal cinema-television room, and six of the eleven rooms being occupied by Mr Ford, his security advisor/driver/ 'butler', the housekeeper Mrs Denise who is on an 'off' day today, and pretty much most of their required equipment that they need to do their jobs...well, at least for Mr Ford to do his job. Oh, and there are also two other men who work with Mr Ford that lives here.

Carrying the still sleeping Danny whilst we tour the remaining rooms which include Mr Holt's bedroom, two 'forbidden' rooms with locked doors that I don't bother question Mr Holt about, a changing room next to his, a study room that has a desk and empty bookshelves in it, a laundry room and of course the guest bedroom that I've taken up residence in.

Leading me through a dark wood door with a silver handle a little way off from the living room where we started the tour, inside the room is an office. A sleek wooden desk by the wall with a computer chair tucked neatly behind it, a few pens and papers are on the desk, a silver lamp and cabinets behind and opposite the desk.

"Sit," He says gesturing to the cloth chair for visitors, his voice is his usual emotionless tone as he takes his place behind the desk, reaching down to pull open a filing cabinet.

Passing me a document that he slides out of a large manila file, I realise that it's a non-disclosure agreement, rolling my eyes at this waste of paper I know that even if I didn't sign this I wouldn't want to tell anyone I'm temporarily living with this horrible excuse of a father. Nevertheless, I sign the paper without batting an eye holding Danny's body to me with my non-dominant hand, I return the original to him and keep the copy for myself.

"Will that be all, Mr Holt?" I ask, trying to sound professional as the man looks at me in wonderment. "I do need to look at the things you had your driver packed for me since whatever he did pack warrants three giant moving boxes."

Blinking a few times as if he's seeing me for the first time, Mr Holt nods curtly, dismissing me. Leaving his office with Danny in arms, I follow the map inside my head, retracing my steps to the guest bedroom in which I'm staying in for the night.

The room is very white. White walls, white marble floor, white bed frame, white bedsheets and covers, white bedside tables with little drawers, white bedside lamp shade.

At least they're all in varying tones of white...otherwise, this room would really look clinical...

Setting Danny into what I believe is his fold away cot, I sit on the long seat at the foot of the bed, opening the nearest cardboard box, a wave of confusion rushes through me when I see that about three-quarters of what's inside isn't even mine nor is it my roommate's.

They're all brand new, in my size and still have their tags on them!