Autumn Rene Wright, at the age of Twenty-Five, hasn't come to terms with the shitty life she's been dealt. Hard times have turned her into a timid and scared soul. So, what was she thinking applying to D.T. Corporations to be the personal assistant...
Sure enough, Mr. Thomas was sick. He called me bright and early this morning to inform me that he and I would be working from his home today. I knew he had my number for the simple fact I worked for him. But, he still caught me off guard. His weak voice was quite cute. After I got off the phone with him, I let out a loud laugh. Not because he was sick. But, more because I was right, and I knew that was pissing him off. My phone buzzed, and I knew it was Mr. Thomas sending me his address. I showered, brushed my teeth, and washed my face. I threw on my purple dress and my hair clip, grabbed my purse, and was out the door.
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I would have made it here sooner. But, the struggle is real when you don't have a phone or a car with GPS. When I pulled up, my mouth dropped. His house was beautiful.
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I parked my beat-up civic behind his all-black 2020 BMW x6. I knew a little something about cars seeing my ex was a mechanic. I put my car in park and hopped out not before grabbing my purse. As I walked to the door, I couldn't help but admire it. I walked to the front and rung the bell. I could hear the ring from the outside. I waited for a while till the door was snatched open by Mr. Thomas. I didn't know this man had so many tattoos. They looked good, and so did he.
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I was speechless as I eyed him head to toe. He was paying me no attention as he was having one of his coughing attacks. He stepped to the side, giving me room to walk in. When I entered the house, my eyes were off him and scanning around his home. He has done it again; this man got taste. I knew if I broke anything in here. I would be paying it off for years. I must have been too amazed because when I turned around, the front door was closed and Mr. Thomas was gone. I looked around trying to think of where he could have went. I knew I wouldn't find out anytime soon because there were so many rooms and hallways.
"Head to the kitchen." My head sprung to the steps. Hearing that made my stomach rumble. I hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday, and when I got home, I went straight to bed. He was now in a white beater and red polo pajama pants. I followed as he walked to the kitchen. Once we reached the kitchen, I was amazed again. I love to cook, so I was in heaven right now. He walks over to the big silver fridge and pulls out some orange juice. I take a seat at one of the many stools he has placed at the counter. He pulls out two cups and gets to pouring.
