CHAPTER 17
BRENDA'S POV
I couldn't sleep that night. I kept turning and tossing, a turbulent debate going on in my head. My heart wanted no part of the debate, although it also was a bit troubled.
Finally, I settled on staring at Christian. His facial features were relaxed. His jaw—so sharp and prominent. I couldn't help but smile. My smile vanished immediately as thoughts of who he really is attacked my head from all directions. Questions that needed answers, and answers I knew he wouldn't give.
Why were there so many cars earlier to pick him up?
Where did he go?
Did he go to see his girlfriend? A hooker?
I really couldn't tell, but my brain and being knew something was dead wrong.
The whole night, I hoped it would be morning soon so I could leave for home.
A few hours later, my eyes darted to the clock. 5 a.m.!
Great!
I tiptoed out of bed to the shower. I took less time getting ready than I usually would. By 5:30 a.m., I was out of the hotel.
I smiled as my house came into view. I had missed it. I breathed a sigh of relief. I parked the car and went inside.
It smelled exactly the way I left it, although I could sense some sort of dust.
I could either clean or go to work… I had to make a choice. I loved keeping my house clean; I rarely needed cleaners to do it for me.
And I missed my job. I missed sitting in my office, watching and looking down on the city.
Finally, I dialed a cleaning agency's number and ordered a cleaner.
I had to be at work in minutes, so I asked them to send someone as quickly as possible.
After getting ready for the office, the bell rang, and I knew it was the cleaner.
I opened the door, and indeed, I was correct. A young lady stood at the doorway, approximately 24 years old. She had very blonde hair—I had never seen that shade of blonde before. A very cute face and big cheeks; she reminded me of one of the ladies from Bridgerton.
"Mrs. Belair?" she smiled warmly.
I let her in.
"Ms. I'm not married!" I smiled back at her.
Her eyes shot up in surprise. Her lips moved as if she wanted to ask something, but she held herself.
"My name is Ona, and I was sent here by the agency!" she introduced herself.
I could tell she was the one sent by the agency—shit, anybody could. She wore cleaning scrubs!
"Okay, Ona! I'll be heading to work now. Help yourself to anything you need. I don't know if there's food in the fridge, but if not and you feel hungry and have time to spare, then you can prepare something for yourself!"
Ona smiled. Her smile was crowned with a gap tooth, and it made her look even cuter.
She nodded.
"Oh, and Ona—lavender, chamomile, and rose water only!" I called over my shoulder.
"Got it!" she shouted just enough for me to hear.
I got in my car and drove off. Just as I connected my phone to my car, Christian's face flashed on my screen. My insides clenched; I didn't know if Christian's face was the reason for it.
I stared at the screen for some time… I declined the call. All his calls—over and over again!
As I walked into the office, Halle walked towards me with a smile and took my jacket from me.
"Welcome back, madam. I hope you had a good break!"
Well, I did—at first—but then everything turned sour and foreign.
I wish I could've said that out loud, but I didn't.
"Yes, Halle, it was indeed… interesting!" I said as I made my way to my office cabin.
The first thing I saw was Greg sitting on my chair, and everything in my office was intact. Greg smiled when our eyes met.
"Hello, Ms. Thing!" Greg beamed, clearly forgetting to stand up because he was in my seat.
"Get your ass up outta my chair!" I said.
He got up from the chair and walked to me. He opened his arms, and I drove right into them. We stayed like that for some time. I knew I was going to break into tears if I stayed there any longer, so I broke it off.
"I didn't know just how much I needed that!" I sighed and sat down.
"You look like you need more than a hug—some comforting, perhaps?" he asked.
His Alabama accent was so strong it made me chuckle.
"Not at all. So tell me… how's everything here? Losses? Profits? New orders? Lost orders?" I dug questions into him.
"Well, talking wouldn't do justice, so I'll send everything to your tablet. As for losses and lost orders," he humphs, "location unknown!" He laughed heartily.
"You need coffee—a strong one! I got this coffee recipe… well, technically, I brought the coffee with me! It's a blend of Mexican and Tanzanian coffee beans." Mr. Motormouth chirped. When he noticed that I didn't understand a thing he said, he added, "You know the coffee beans—the ones that monkeys chew out and spit?"
That was it. I had heard enough.
"Whoa, if you keep giving me every detail, I'm not sure I'd want to try out that coffee!" I informed him.
He turned on his heels and exited the office.
I stood up from my chair and watched the city below me. My mind was troubled—very troubled. I was one person who was very curious; I couldn't rest until I knew whatever I thought was hidden.
The door opened, and Greg walked back in with two cups of coffee. He handed one to me, and we sat down. I took a sip from the cup, and my oh my, it really was good—just like he had said.
It was strong, with this silky taste to it and just a tinge of bitterness. It tasted like a cup of emotions.
"So?" Greg asked, waiting for a review on his coffee.
"Not bad, playa!" I chuckled. "I didn't know you had such good taste!"
"I'm simply the best, you know. Some people might not see it, but I know I'm goooooood at everything!" he chuckled.
Greg was a mood. He carried an atmosphere of happiness and freedom, like he didn't care about anything. Now people like that are hard to find, alright. So being with him always woke up the dormant teen in me.
My eyes shifted from him, and I grew serious. I turned my eyes back to him again.
"Greg, tell me more about Christian!" I wanted to find out at least something that would lead me to anything that had connections with the fleet of cars in Vegas.
Greg's eyes widened a bit but returned to their normal size after seconds.
"I don't understand," he looked in my direction. "I thought you two were a couple now…"
I cut him off.
"Yes, I know it's weird for me to want to inquire about him after he's flipped, tossed, and turned me in every possible position!"
I sighed. I really didn't want to be judged at the moment by anyone. I covered my face with my hands and raked them through my locks.
"It's just—I feel like I neglected the part where we were supposed to know each other. I was so focused on how fulfilling he was, how happy he made me… you know, his positive side! You might find this funny, but I don't even know what Christian does for a living!" I chuckled dryly.
As I said those words, I realized that I knew close to nothing about him. It was an actual shame.
"I've known Christian since I was sixteen. He is my elder brother's boss. If I'm sure, Christian has an escort company and numerous warehouses!" Greg spoke, his eyes fixed on me. Over the few seconds, he had grown serious.
I knew Greg had no reason to lie to me, but part of me didn't believe him.
He's making a genuine living. I'm sure Greg is telling the truth! That was my heart speaking to me.
Girl, please. If you have any sense, then you'd put one plus one and get the answers to your question. Don't believe what will benefit you—believe the truth. With actual facts and proof! That was my brain knocking some sense into me.
I stared out beyond Greg.