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...
Opening my eyes this morning was a struggle. The soft mattress and covers provided me with so much comfort as my morning vision adjusted to the morning light. I came to the realization I wasn't in my one-bedroom apartment in Sunnyside. This room was actually the same size as the place I call home. Lifting up, I decided to scan over the room; it was beautiful. Remembering last night's events brought me back to reality. Oh shit, I wasn't at my house but instead Mr. Thomas's. I shot out the bed looking for my belonging. I saw my phone charging on the charger and my purse next to it. I picked up my phone to check the time. Fuck, it cant be pass ten o'clock. I knew Mr. Thomas was going to have my head for this. I grabbed my stuff and headed for the door.
When I stepped out, there was nobody in sight. I wasn't sure where to go, but I saw the staircase. I knew that would at least bring me downstairs. From there, I would head to the kitchen. I reached halfway down the steps and the smell of breakfast attacked my nose. When I entered, I stopped in my tracks. I saw eggs, fruit, and french toast laid out on the counter table. Mr. Thomas was eating standing up, reading over some papers. He was dressed rather casual but looked damn good.
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"Good morning Mr. Thomas," I said, playing with my fingers.
"Morning, a washcloth, toothpaste, and a toothbrush have been set out for you in that bathroom over there." He pointed me in the direction I needed to go while keeping his attention on the papers in front of him.
I wasted no time; It's bad enough. I'm in the same clothes from last night. I did my morning routine to the best of my ability. I do appreciate him for providing me with the basics. I returned to the kitchen. I notice a plate placed on the counter in front of one of the empty seats. It had food piled up. My mouth was watering at the sight of it. I knew he was the person behind the plate making.
"Thank you." I took a seat and picked up the fork in front of me.
"Welcome." He sipped his tea and looked up at me.
"Sure, piled up my plate." I took a bite of my french toast and was amazed. This man sure does know his way around the kitchen. I wouldn't mind finding out exactly how much he knows, either.
"How else are you suppose to keep that figure, Ms. Wright?" Usually, people were screaming at me to lose it.
"I don't need to that's the thing," I laughed, but I guess he didn't find what I said very funny.
"Anyway, did Triple-A ever come last night?" I changed the subject. I had fallen to sleep on the couch last night, waiting for them. Wait, how the hell did I get in the bed? No, he couldn't have my heart started racing.
"Yes, he came after I put you in the room. But, I sent him away my mechanic's going to take a look at it for you." He confirmed what I thought.
"You didn't have to do that, Mr. Thomas. I'm heavy I could have hurt you," I said, skipping over the whole mechanic information.
