Maybe you need me....

Chapter five

The following 3 days I'd hardly talked to Marshall. I guess our talk in his office had somehow brought up an idea, because he was constantly writing in his notepad. Only when we sat down to eat he would talk 2 or 3 sentences, before creativity hit him again and he stopped and scribbled words down. Did I feel lonely? -Honestly yes, but to me it became clearer each day that this was probably what I was here for, to help him sort out his things. I mean, if Paul had only wanted company for Marshall, he could've booked a younger and not so high priced escort. But maybe he thought that an ‚older', more experienced woman could help Marshall better.

My days consisted basically out of my morning sports routine, getting ready to go to the studio, spend time there; mostly with Denaun and Royce, going home and then to my room. And now we had the first weekend ahead of us....

Marshall and I alone for two days.....

It was Saturday morning and I'd just stepped out of the shower after my sports routine. Since I knew that we wouldn't go to the studio today, I dried and moisturized my body, brushed my teeth, washed my face and then did my hair. After I'd pulled it up in a bun, I put on my underwear and socks, sweatpants and a black, tight, shirt, applied some mascara and lipgloss and walked through my room to go downstairs to have breakfast with my client. I hopped down the stairs but stopped halfway when I heard Marshall, talking not so nicely to someone he was on the phone with.

„The fuck you want me to do? She's stayin' wit you, you gotta get your shit together.... I know, but that's no fuckin' excuse, Kim..."

Kim...... oh, ex-wife!

„Look, I told ya Chris is here an I don't want Whit to get the wrong impression....... yeah...... aight, I'll talk to her an call you back.... yeah, bye!"

I took a deep breath, straightened up and took the remaining steps down to walk past the living room into the kitchen.

Act like you haven't heard anything!

„Morning, Chris!" Marshall said from behind when he'd walked out of the living room and I turned around and smiled at him.

„Good Morning, Marshall. Slept well?"

„Yeah," he nodded and walked to my side. „What ya up to?"

„Uhm, breakfast?" I asked back and he scratched the back of his neck.

„About that, I forgot to tell you that Martha ain't here at the weekends...."

„And you think now we will starve to death because I can't prepare a meal?" I cutted in with a disbeliefing smile and he shrugged his shoulders. „Marshall, I might be an expensive hooker, but I'm capable of doing normal stuff around the house, which also involves cooking."

„You won't let me off the hook for that, huh?!" He asked with a chuckle, referring to the ‚hooker' and I smirked and shook my head. „Fuck, I'm screwed!" I laughed out and patted his back when we arrived at the kitchen.

„Gotta get used to it."

„Guess so!"

„So, you eat waffles for breakfast, right?" I asked while I walked to the cabinets to get the ingredients out.

„Yeah, but there's no need...."

„Ah, zip it!" I cutted him off. „How does waffles with a fruit salad sound?" A smile appeared on his face and he shrugged. „Okay, then I'll take care of the food and you make some coffee?"

„Deal!"

We'd sat down at the kitchen isle and ate breakfast while doing only small talk. He was surprised that I was capable of making breakfast and I wanted to stab him with the fork for it. Basically we had fun!
I'd stood up to fill the dishwasher, when Marshall cleared his throat.