Chapter 42 ON THE HEIGHTS
Trembling, I ran my hands through my hair.
“Yes, I know… I'm sorry if I got carried away.” I smiled at the nurse, who nodded.
“Nevertheless, I want the security footage to confirm that absolutely no one besides Mrs. Elisabeth was here to see Mrs. Eva!” Greg spoke ruthlessly, firm in his demand.
“And who do you think you are to request such a thing?” The nurse glared at him.
“I am the right hand of the owner of this nursing home. If you don't want to lose your job, you will do as I am ordering!” He smiled coldly and menacingly.
“Yes, sir!” She replied reluctantly, followed by Greg.
“My girl, please, run away!” My grandmother said, holding my hands.
“I'm not going anywhere without you. Don't worry, we are safe.” I bit my cheek from the inside, not wanting to reveal the fear I felt inside, but I would protect her, just like my grandmother had done with me all my life.
Finishing the visit, Greg returned briskly, with security guards he trusted spreading throughout the nursing home, which alarmed me.
“Greg...What happened? Was there really an unexpected visitor? Who was it?” I inquired urgently.
“There wasn't, miss, but Mr. Morgan ordered you to leave security here to protect your grandmother without questioning.” He replied.
“Thank you, Greg; it means a lot to me!” I smiled, touching his arm.
“I'm just following orders!”Greg pulled his arms impatiently, walking away. I followed him in silence.
We returned to my apartment, and the night was beginning. I ordered food, watched movies, studied the overdue materials from the writing course that Lara had sent me, and drafted an email to the college. I packed for the trip to Cuba, realizing that I didn't actually have any bikinis. Furthermore, I had never worn clothes so small that they exposed so much of my body. I grabbed light dresses and formal clothes. After everything was ready, I went to the door and signaled for Greg to come in.
Without questioning, he did, locking the door, sweeping the apartment, and staying in the living room as he did the night before. I went to rest peacefully with a trained security guard in my living room, and I had expectations for this great trip with Patrick Morgan!
We left early, finding the CEO inside the private jet having his coffee and reading a newspaper. He looked tired and paler, with subtle dark circles; I had never seen him like that.
“Good morning, Mr. Morgan, are you okay?” I caught his attention; he raised his eyes from the newspaper, looking at me and then at Greg.
“I'm fine; as I told the young lady, I have insomnia,” Patrick replied curtly, returning to his reading.
"True..." I spoke softly so as not to bother him; it seemed that my boss was in one of his bad mood days. Greg stored our bags, sat in front of the CEO, and started some negotiations. I opened my notebook, sitting in the chair next to him, answering the most important emails and evaluating the recently submitted storyline from the star writer with the script. I frowned, pointing out some inconsistencies in the plots. Every note was sent to Mr. Morgan to validate and think about an improvement strategy; our writers carried the name of SoundStory Press, and this was very well cared for by us.
We started the flight, and the flight attendant came to pass the menu, take orders, and come in front of the CEO, her breasts jumping in his face in a seductive way, her voice loaded with a sultry tone to offer appetizers. Morgan seemed impatient, being rude by pushing her away. Greg shook his head and seemed worried.
“I just need to rest for a bit, stay with Mrs. Elisabeth, and provide the necessary information about security on this trip. I'll see you in a bit,” he said, getting up and walking to the cabin where there was a rest area.
The flight was long, just over 10 hours. Some arrangements were made, such as not going out without the security personnel assigned to us, always staying close by, and always sending the location of where we were. It seemed like an exaggeration for such security on a simple business trip; something was not being said.
“Greg... Why all this?” I asked, making him raise his eyebrows. “Come on, I'm not naive. I've traveled a lot with Mr. Morgan for work, but it's the first time there's such caution with his security, or rather, ours. Why?”
“The more money, the more they'll want to take you down and steal from you, Mr. Lis,” Greg replied vaguely, turning his face towards the cabin. “It's the price of power!”
“That sounds morbid to me. Has there been any threat to Mr. Morgan's life? Should I be worried about something?” I moved to the edge of my seat, agitated.
Laughing, the CEO's trusted security guard looked back at me, amused.
“Your biggest concern should be the romantic interest your boss has in you, Mrs. Elisabeth!”
I widened my eyes, embarrassed, feeling the sting of judgment in his voice, and leaned back, looking away, keeping silent. Five hours had passed until the CEO appeared with a more refreshed look, whispering something in Greg's ear. He sat in front of me with a wide smile while his friend went to the cabin.
“Are they taking turns?” I raised an eyebrow, analyzing.
“Despite Greg's reluctance, he also needs to rest. He stayed up watching over your apartment.” Patrick smiled. “I'm glad you kept him in the living room.”
“And where did you think I would keep your friend?” I frowned, annoyed.
“My friend is a very attractive man. He always did very well with women in the army.” Morgan teased. “With his sense of humor, that impresses me.”
“You're jealous, Mr. Morgan? That's unlike you.” I retorted, smiling.
“I would be a fool not to be.” Patrick sat further forward, placing his hands on my legs and squeezing subtly. “Do you realize how sensual you are?”
Smiling, he leaned further over my body, moving his hands a bit higher up my dress and sliding over the thin pants that completed the look.
“Have you thought about what you want?” He whispered in my ear, his daring hand sliding further up and touching the thin fabric of my underwear. “What did I say about wearing pants in my presence?”
“I didn't think you'd come to a business meeting without them, especially with Greg around.” I whispered, afraid the flight attendant might hear. “Mr. Morgan, people will see us; this is inappropriate!”
“You should know I don't care about that; we'll have to take them off.” Smiling boldly, Patrick forcefully pulled the pants down. I put my hand over his, trying to stop him while looking around.
“Are you crazy?” I exclaimed. “I'm not taking them off!”
“Alright then, I'll take them off for you.” Biting my lip with pressure, I relaxed my hand, letting him pull the thin fabric off completely and dragging it down to my feet.