Under My Boss's Direction: Office Romance Collection With New Novel, Jamie Knight [classic books for 11 year olds txt] 📗

And then I felt it beneath my knees: the bubbling energy through the wood. I wiped my eyes and got up. He was pulling her away from the bed.

"No, Axel! I can't."

"We have to, Gloria. There's no time."

I was naive about the whole thing. It made no sense for him to pull Mom away and tell her that we had to hurry. Through a grunt of sheer will, he had his two girls pinned in his arms, barreling down for the basement.

In a passing glance, I saw through the kitchen window the sky swirling like a black milkshake. Part of a roof flew by. The latch to the basement shut down tight, and he ordered us to get behind the heavy shelves full of vaults of honey and canned food.

It was the fourteenth of March 2008.

We waited for the screaming wind to ebb, and all through that time, checking our silent phones, all we saw was that constant message. On and on. Over and over. For hours. For a night and a day.

Until it stopped.

***

"Seems like we're going to be here longer than dinner, huh?"

It's no longer a hurricane message. It's a quarantine alert, signed by the governor.

"He really thinks this is going to work?" asks Denue.

I can’t help but think it won’t. Telling a bunch of frustrated people who have hunkered down for weeks to not leave their front doors through Christmas Eve, through Christmas, is asking a bit much. I have a feeling some won’t follow the rules, but that’s nothing new.

"I suppose so."

He laughs and downs the last of his wine.

"Well, I'm glad you're staying with me for the holidays. Some company will be nice for a change."

It's in the way he says it. Calm, orderly and with heavy doses of subtext. I hide my emotions, the shiver running its course on my arms and neck, thinking of all he could mean. I am going to be stuck with this man through Christmas, in his house, in his space. But it’s a happy kind of stuck.

"I would love to stay," I tell him.

"Thank you. There's some work you could help me sort through after tomorrow. But for now, we call it a night. Is that okay?"

"Um, yeah."

Clearly, he can tell I am uneasy. I came with only the parcel that is right now at the top of the bureau at the far edge of the wall.

"Come on. I think I have a few things that might work for you. Don't worry about the plates. I'll be up for a minute."

Denue has fascinating imagery with his tastes. He makes a show of telling me about the paint he used for the hallways, the kind of tools he still has, where he learned his handy skills from, and how he simply loves working with his hands.

By the time we arrive at the first floor's last wide brown door on the right, I still have no idea what will happen between us, but I know that something will. It all feels rushed right now, and I think I need to sit to decipher this.

"Everything you need is in there. I have some drones that can bring the clothes you want here and deliver them in the morning."

So, he hadn’t needed me to bring the package, after all.

But I had already known that.

"Goodnight, Miss Amador. I'll see you in the morning."

And just like that, I am faced by thinly varnished wood, and soon I step through it, locking the door behind me.

Chapter Five

Denue

The hand strikes eight, and the mandated curfew begins.

All through the house, I check for inconsistencies and dust bunnies. I have never needed help to clean this place, and I'm not starting now.

I fluff the pillows and mop the floors. The rooms light up as I vacuum every inch of carpet that I own, and finally, as a last ode to the night, an hour later, I blend in some old 90s music from the tiny black and white kitchen radio with the frothy rush of water from the faucet and swing my hips slightly as I wash the dishes. It's been a while since I hummed.

After logging off my computer, I shut the door and disrobe, promptly taking a light shower before sitting on the bed for a spell.

She's in my house.

It's like terrestrial warmth through the walls reaching out, just thinking about it. On purpose I did not want to bring up the late night chats we have been having to Nellie.

It wouldn't be organic, being that this is the first night she's sleeping over. The first of many nights, I think, if the quarantine is to last more than the holidays.

I assume the Powers That Be don’t want people going out and congregating throughout the holidays. If I’m right, then this current situation could last till New Years’ Eve.

Oh, the possibilities.

Thinking about it causes the most unusual of gleeful expressions to spread across my face as I close my eyes to rest, realizing that tomorrow could be the best Christmas I’ve ever had and that I could be unwrapping the one gift I truly want.

Nellie

Pound for pound, drip for drop, the thought echoes and bounces off the walls of my mind as the hot water trickles down my hairless skin.

“This is happening," I whisper to the steamy clouds around me.

Denue was right. There was everything a woman could want in this closet, and a robe hanging by the bathroom door too. Beige. The same color as the apron he was wearing when I got here. It’s not my favorite color, but it has quite the luxurious feel on the back of my thighs.

The bathroom looks like it was built with the