Chapter 21 DID YOU SLEEP WELL?
“Mr. Morgan!” I widened my eyes, embarrassed.
“Mrs. Elisabeth...” He teased, whispering in my ear. “You look beautiful when you blush!”
I pushed him off me, ready to get up, but Patrik was stronger and kept his embrace tight around my waist.
“Let me go; I'll sleep in the living room, or we can switch rooms!” I declared, allowing nervousness to show in my voice.
“Are you trying to escape me out of fear of what I do or out of fear of what you want?” He asked me seriously, carefully analyzing my expression.
“I...” I bit my lip, wishing to say it was out of fear, but something inside me screamed it was fear of getting involved and getting hurt.
“Not knowing the answer is already an answer, Mrs. Elisabeth.” Patrik smiled, passing his arms over my body and turning off the bedside lamp. He settled back in bed, bringing my head close to his chest and stroking my hair. “Let's rest; tomorrow you can scream and curse at me.”
“I don't understand you.” I finally confessed.
Laughing, Mr. Morgan said:
“No one does!”
I woke up to the soft morning light penetrating through the window, remembering that, once again, my boss had shared the same resting space. I turned slowly in bed, realizing I was alone. The enveloping aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans lingered in the air, awakening a hungry echo in my stomach.
I prepared for the day by choosing an appropriate outfit for the office, opting for dressy flats instead of the usual heels. In front of the mirror, I applied subtle makeup to my pale skin, slightly affected by the cold, and decided on a delicately reddish lipstick, aiming for a natural look reminiscent of soap opera actresses who wake up flawless.
As I noticed my excessive attention to appearance, I questioned if I was trying to please someone. I bit my lip at that thought.
I laughed, realizing I was being overly careful with my appearance. Was I trying to please him? I bit my lip at this thought.
Where did Mr. Patrik want to go with these crazy trainings? No writer had received so much attention; was I different? But in what way?
I wasn't that good, nor was my plot breathtaking; I just aimed to describe sensations and perhaps one day live them.
Haven't I been living them with the CEO lately?
My mind launched this thought, plunging me into an eternal conflict. What if I didn't leave the room? Would he come again?
Nervously tapping my fingers on the sink, I took a deep breath, adjusting my posture to allow Elisabeth Lis, Executive Secretary, to take control of the situation. Professional, closed-off, and determined in her goals, with no room for romance or inappropriate adventures with the boss.
“But if only...” I murmured, as if my more impulsive side had whispered in my ear, making me confess. I adjusted my short, black hair in an elegant bob, letting the bangs fall gently over my eyes. Seeing that the mirror reflection conveyed what I wanted, I felt satisfied and left.
Descending the stairs, I came across Mr. Morgan by the fireplace, enjoying a cup of coffee, wearing jeans and a dress shirt, without the jacket. He had rolled up the sleeves, and his woody scent mixed with the coffee aroma.
“Good morning, Mrs. Elisabeth. Did you sleep well?” Patrick asked formally, but I could sense a hint of playfulness at the end of the sentence.
Blushing slightly, I cleared my throat and decided to keep the conversation as formal as possible.
“Good morning, Mr. Patrick. I rested well, and did you manage to overcome the insomnia?” I smiled subtly, still standing at the top of the stairs.
“It was challenging, but...” He lowered the newspaper, fixing his eyes on mine. “The company last night made it easier. I must thank you for that!” I narrowed my eyes, looking away as he approached. As I headed towards the coffee table, I noticed another cup, filled with cheese bread in a small basket, and toast and jams arranged on trays, with cheese cubes skewered by toothpicks, ready to be enjoyed.
“Did you prepare breakfast?” I exclaimed, widening my eyes and raising my eyebrows, intrigued.
“I am a man of many talents, Miss. Who knows, maybe I'll show you what other talents I have hidden.” Patrick smiled playfully, noticing the disconcerting effect of his bold statement. “Please, have a seat. After breakfast, we will start our work.”
I nodded, ignoring his last comment, while I filled my cup with coffee and indulged in every delicacy in front of me. Mr. Morgan watched me attentively without averting his eyes, displaying a proud smile.
“Is there a problem, sir? Is there something on my face?” I quickly ran my hands over my face, fearing I was dirty like a child.
“No, you look impeccable as always,” he replied, pouring another cup of coffee. “I think this is the first time I've seen a woman eat so well!”
I released the fourth cheese bread embarrassedly, lowering my head timidly. It was true; I took care of my appearance, but I wasn't a fan of extreme diets. My grandmother always said, “It's better to spend more energy than to reduce food. You can balance it, and there is no gluttony!”
“Well, considering that you always go out with models, your surprise is understandable.”I smiled, picking up the cheese bread again. “We mortal women eat well. We need all the energy that food provides us to deal with difficult bosses.”
“Is that so?” Patrick scratched his chin, a wry smile playing on his lips. “I'll need to feed you even more later. I want you full of energy.”
Upon hearing his bold words, I hit the knife while spreading jam, dropping it on the floor. Blushing, I quickly bent down, grabbing a napkin from the table to clean it up. Laughing, Mr. Morgan leaned forward, perching on the edge of the armchair.
“You are quite clumsy, Mrs. Lis,” he joked, standing up and helping me to stand. He ran his finger along the corner of my mouth, lingering there for a moment before his cell phone rang, making him sigh. “Leave the mess there. We'll go out later, and the maid will come to clean it up.”
“How did you manage to get a maid out here in the middle of nowhere?” I widened my eyes, curious. “Did you kidnap her too?”
My tone came out more accusatory than playful, eliciting laughter from Patrick.
“Of course, that's what a kidnapper does… I keep her locked in the basement!” Patrick joked. “If you've finished your coffee, I need the contacts of the Cuban suppliers. I also want the old contract proposed to Forbes; I want to review it and adapt it to our needs. By the way, Evaluate it first, mark what you think we should improve for our publishing house, and describe the reasons. I want the report as soon as possible.”
“Evaluate how to improve. Sir, I can't take such responsibility for the publishing house. This agreement needs to be advantageous for us and will directly impact the careers of all employees,” I shuddered, aware that any mistake could result in a significant financial loss and impact lives.
“Mrs. Elisabeth, I trust your professionalism. Perhaps it's time for you to start trusting yourself!” Mr. Morgan shrugged, looking at the screen of his cell phone in his hands, which kept ringing. “Do as I asked. We'll talk about your findings. Don't worry, it's just an analysis.”