Chapter 19
Clara's POV
I put my stuff in my locker and put on my uniform as soon as I got to work. Ivy worked an extended shift this morning, so I didn't see her.
My troubles all worked themselves out more quickly than I had imagined. I suppose all I had to do was tell the truth.
I was liberated. The falsehoods had stopped. It seemed like there was another opportunity. Things didn't work out as poorly as I had feared. This time, I wasn't going to do anything to screw things up.
As I entered the elevator leading to Derek's apartment, I grinned.
He was reading a newspaper and holding a cup of coffee as he stood in the hallway.
"Good morning, sir," I said, grabbing his interest.
He glanced at me as if considering how to respond. It seemed as if he didn't anticipate my level of happiness.
Derek said, "You are late." He went back to looking at the newspaper.
My watch said eight minutes to go.
I made it here before eight and got logged in. It was beyond eight, however, given how long it took me to get here, but that wasn't the point. I still had a job, at least.
"That's not going to happen again," I smiled.
I started to move by him to start my duty, but he stopped me.
"From here, I'll be working for a long. I have some things to take care of. Let me remind you that I only demand the best work from my staff members." He said.
"Okay, pay attention." He went on. "You will now need to report for work at six o'clock. I plan to have my breakfast ready by 630. You will either have to cook or ask the chef to make something, depending on how I'm feeling. I eat my smoothie around ten. Throughout the week, I will drink a mango pineapple smoothie, strawberries, bananas, blueberries, mangoes, oranges, raspberries, and so on." He declared.
I tried to remember what he said, going over each word again.
"You're not removing anything," he said.
"My memory is excellent," I said in response.
It's lunchtime at two. Additionally, you will need to work on some weekends. Naturally, despite everything, you must still do your daily business." He went on.
I had been so excited when I began my day, but by the time I got to work, I was exhausted. He wasn't going to be any simpler to handle than visitors like Madison, in my opinion. I mistakenly believed he had let me off lightly, but he was planning his retaliation.
Although I lacked the courage to inquire, I hope more duties and extended workdays will come with a generous salary.
"Give me a double espresso, please." Giving me his cup, he gave me instructions.
I said, glancing at the coffee cup, "I don't believe it's good for you to drink that much."
"Did I solicit your viewpoint?" He enquired.
Before waving me away, he pointed first at the cup and then toward the kitchen.
If he has too much coffee and ends up in the hospital, at least I know it won't be my fault.
After preparing the coffee, I set it down on his desk, where he worked. Before he could consider assigning me additional work, I quickly left the room.
I must have cleaned the bedroom for over two hours, from vacuuming to replacing the bed sheets to giving the bathroom and toilet a good scrub.
It was time for his smoothie at ten. Fortunately, I discovered a recipe book with printed directions for every item on the kitchen counter. It seems as if he had plans for me already.
To give him the smoothie, I went back to his office. I had left the coffee earlier, and it was cold and unopened. Despite knowing he wouldn't drink it, I took the cup and left.
I then cleaned the remainder of the home.
When it eventually got to my lunch break at 1 p.m., I was relieved. That meant that Derek wouldn't be yelling at me for an hour.
I let out a loud sigh as I left Derek's apartment. I had been standing since the morning, and my feet were hurting me.
My pocket-sized phone vibrated, alerting me to a text message.
It came from Dad if I should even use that term. I would want to address him as Kevin.
'I must see you,' the message said.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and ignored it.
It was just another of his ruses. He would disappear for a little and then become wasted. Then, he would return and act as if nothing had changed to extort more money from us and keep drinking.
Another text arrived.
"I apologize for what I did in the past." I hope we can get together in person. I'm in the park that's close to your workplace. It was printed.
I sighed aloud.
I didn't want to see Katy sad again, and if I didn't see him, he might end up at home.
I strolled to the park from the hotel.
There weren't many people strolling around the park, going about their daily business, and it wasn't very spacious. A few children, all too young to be in school, were playing.
I looked around the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen.
At last, I found a bench and waited tensely, tapping my feet.
At last, he showed up just as I was about to leave. I was down to just thirty minutes left of my lunch break, and I still hadn't eaten.
He was trembling, had a twisted appearance, and was dressed warmly in a heavy coat. He had dark circles and bags under his eyes, which I noticed. Especially striking were his bloodshot red eyes.
I shifted so he had more space on the bench.
He took a seat next to me, twitching his fingers.
His clothes smelled terrible and were filthy. Where has he been living, I wonder?
"How are things going for you, your mother, and your sister?" He enquired. With his head bowed, he gazed at his feet.
"Everyone is doing well," I replied. I answered, "Look, if you're here to ask for money, I don't have any."
He turned around, making eye contact for the first time.
"Look, I've changed. I've started seeking help, and I'm getting better now. I will get my life for you, your mother, and your sister." He said.
He stopped, still keeping eye contact.
"But I only need some money. I have a few things I need to take care of," He stated.
I have watched him like this for far too long. He constantly came back, professing to be contrite when he was having withdrawal symptoms. I had had enough of this; I wouldn't stand for it any longer.
"I knew you were simply coming to beg me for money. I'll never give you another money so that you can continue drinking." I yelled.
I got up, ready to depart.
He grabbed my hand and grasped my wrist firmly before pushing me back onto the seat. He maintained his hand on my wrist.
"Let go of me," I yelled.
"Please, I need that money. I owe some pretty dangerous individuals that money." He went on.
I tried moving my arm away, but it just led him to tighten his grasp. I felt an intense ache in my wrist.
"I'm sure you have some money someplace; I only need a little to solve my difficulties." He said.
I groaned in agony as I wrenched my arm once again.
"Are you having trouble with this?" Someone spoke up.
I saw Leonardo as I glanced up. Angrily, he glanced at Kevin, his fist already clenched.
Since our unpleasant incident, in which I spilled detergent all over his shirt and paperwork, I hadn't seen him. What was he doing here, I wonder? He had the appearance of someone you wouldn't expect to find in a location other than a five-star hotel.
Kevin swiftly released my arm and turned his back on me, acting like nothing had occurred.
To ease the discomfort in my wrist, I twisted my arm. His hand had left its mark on my wrist, a scarlet bruise.
I said, "No, he was just walking away." I spoke a little shakily.
Kevin glanced at me, then at Leonardo, and then paced away.
It took me some time to compose myself. I had never seen him so insane; he was lost in drink and incapable of thinking clearly.
"Are you alright?" Leo enquired. He sat down next to me.
"I'm okay," I was able to respond. Tears began to well up in my eyes.
I hurried back to the motel after getting up to go.
I cleansed my cheeks of the tears. I refused to allow this to make me weaker.
I opened Derek's text message and said, "Pick up my lunch at the restaurant below."
I had already finished my break.
I made my way back to the hostel and the restaurant's kitchen located below. It was as exclusive and renowned as the hotel, drawing leaders from all over the globe. There were meals they sold here that you could only get here. It would cost more than an arm and a leg to eat here.
The chefs were shouting at their designated junior cooks to push them to perfection, and the kitchen was bustling as usual, with servers coming and going with food.
When I met with the head chef, I pushed through the mob. It seems that he already knew Derek's command.
I found the kitchen to be unpleasant. All it did was make me want food that I knew I would never be able to buy. It made me realise how needy I was.
"You mean Clara?" He enquired.
With a nod. I wasn't expecting him to remember me since I had only met him a few times while I worked at the hotel and restaurant with various staff.
He said, "You seem a bit pale."
He told a chef how tiny he wanted the onions chopped, and he was now cooking some pork.
"I've just spent the whole day on my feet, but I'm good. I had to meet someone during my little respite." I responded.
"Well, what prevents you from having some juice?" He made a bid. He seasoned the meat with a few spices.
"No, I'm okay," I said.
You'll never have a chance like this again; the price for just one glass is unknowable. Moreover, it seems that you need it." He said.
At last, I consented.
He swung around to face the refrigerator, poured himself a glass of orange juice, and slid it across to me on the table.
I hardly had time to catch my breath after downing the juice. I can taste what it feels like to be affluent now.
The server spoke over my shoulder, "The order is ready, sir."
I was intrigued since he was carrying a big silver tray with its contents covered.
He gave the tray to me. I almost lost my grasp, so I was startled at how hefty it was.
"You have to guard this with your life," said the chef.
As I walked out of the restaurant, I nodded.
I entered the motel immediately from the rear door.
With every step I took back to the penthouse, I prayed that I wouldn't drop this. It would probably take two months of my paycheck to pay it off if I dropped it.
Now, Derek was reading some paperwork in the living room and pacing the space.
Pointing to the table, he said, "You may leave it there."
Leaning forward, I set the tray down on the table.
I was conscious of the bruising on my wrist once again.
Derek halted, gazing at my wrist, so he must have spotted the mark too. With haste, I withdrew my hand and concealed it behind my back, out of his line of sight.
"Sir, is there anything more you need?" So I did.
It took him some time to get out of his reverie.
He took a seat and prepared to have lunch.
"Maybe you might tidy up every window in this place?" He gave guidance.
Looking around, I felt distressed. I could never have cleaned all those windows. Besides, it wasn't part of my work, and there were just too many of them.
This was something I had caused. I didn't believe his statement that he had other plans for me was meant to make my life difficult. I had a job at the end of this, at least.
"Yes, sir," with a nod.
He lifted the tray's lid to see a sushi buffet, expertly organized in a tidy spiral pattern. There were so many different sorts on one plate that I lost count. I could see why it was so hefty.
He was eating sushi off of an entire platter. I hadn't even eaten lunch yet in the meantime. In any case, I was probably going to have a sandwich for lunch. I don't notice any leftovers in the fridge, so I wonder what he would do with the remaining meals he doesn't eat. It brought home to me how hungry I was.
I'm not a big fan of sushi, but it worked.
I started working with a bucket, a sponge, and other cleaning solutions.
I began by looking at the living room windows. I reasoned that maybe it would make him feel bad enough to decide otherwise, saving me the trouble of cleaning the windows. In any case, I was too short to reach most of them.
I felt lightheaded, starting with the lower windows.
My eyesight was gradually going haywire.
I attempted to ignore the emotion. Most likely, it was because I hadn't eaten anything for lunch. The sensation would pass quickly.
Yet things were getting worse. I stumbled and lost my footing, slowly everything becoming dark. I tried to reach out and grasp the table for support, but I could not, and I fell to the ground.
"Harris!" I caught Derek yelling.
I lost consciousness and struck my head on the ground.
*****
I heard a buzzer when I woke up.
A brilliant light exploded in my eyes, straight over my face. I instantly averted my gaze.
Clara, huh? I caught a tremulous murmur.
I opened my eyes again gently. There was an IV in my arm. A table was on the side, and a sofa occupied the far end. In a hospital room, I was.
I saw the figure following me, but my eyesight was so fuzzy that I couldn't pinpoint exactly who it was.
"Are you alright?" I could hear Derek talking. The sound of the chair scratching the floor told me he had just reached his feet.
I looked about me one more time.
"What took place?" I babbled.
I could see things a little more now.
"You passed out. Since I was so concerned, I took you to the hospital." He clarified.
Did I pass out? How long did I stay away?
"Do you feel better already?" He enquired.
I attempted to raise myself into a sitting posture by pressing my arms down.
"You need to attempt to get some rest; don't move." Derek intervened.
Although I was feeling somewhat better, I was still a little sleepy.
A doctor intervened at that precise time. He looked like any other doctor, with a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck.
"What is the patient's status?" inquired the smiling doctor. He adjusted his spectacles so he could see me better.
"I'm honestly a little sleepy," was my honest response.
"What's wrong with her, doctor?" Frantically, Derek inquired.
Derek sounded like he was worrying about me; was I dreaming?
You need to get some rest; it's not a big issue. You also have very low blood sugar." He gave us comfort.
"You need to be leaving here very soon." He grinned.
I exhaled a breath of calm.
He read aloud to himself in silence after opening a folder next to my bed. He was smiling the whole time.
That it wasn't anything severe gave me relief. I could not afford to spend too much time in the hospital.
"Looks like nothing major; you seem to be alright." The physician answered. "Alright, and congrats. You are expecting," he said.
_________________________________ A/N: I'm grateful that you read. I hope you found the chapter enjoyable. Please leave a comment and cast your vote.
