Their Paid Girl

Their Paid Girl - Part 12

Sorry it's so short! :( I'm in the middle of exams, and have to go study Chemistry now. But hope you like it anyway!  <3

                                                                                      ***

          Esther never came home that night, but that was hardly cause for worry. I slept deeply and much better than I had all week, and I was in the middle of a wonderful dream involving Angel on a unicorn.

          Loud knocking sounded and I ignored it, stuffing my head under the pillow. It persisted and I cracked an eye open, quite peeved to be awoken. Dragging myself out of bed, I refused to feel sorry for Esther, who was most likely stranded on the other side of the door, frantically knocking because she lost her clothes somewhere last night.

          Flinging open the door, I fully expected to see tousled golden hair and remorseful brown eyes, but instead I got tousled black hair and not at all remorseful, blue eyes.

          My jaw and I stared at Adam who still had a fist in the air, about to knock again.

          “Memfuzik,” I grunted in shock, still half-asleep.

          I realized I was in my transparent t-shirt and underwear at about the same time that Adam noticed. Grabbing the door with both hands, I slammed it a second time in Adam’s face and heard a martyred sigh from the other side.

          Rushing to the pile of clothes that I hadn’t bothered to stuff back into the closet, I grabbed a silky wrap-around robe before stalking over back to the door and opening it in a much more controlled manner.

          Adam leaned on the opposite wall, arms crossed, looking utterly annoyed. He sent me a flat look and I swallowed; his good looks were a bit much to take, this early in the morning.

          “What are you doing here?” I hissed, clutching my robe around me tighter.

          He glanced up at the ceiling as though requesting patience from a Divine Power. “It’s Friday,” he said bluntly.

          I cocked an eyebrow. “No,” I gasped with huge sarcasm, “Really?”

          “If you’re looking to make a first impression, that’ll certainly work,” Adam ignored me, instead his gaze raking up and down my body. I flushed, wrapping my arms around my chest.

          “Excuse me,” I said in a dignified voice, “I’m not ready. Speaking of impressions, I thought you’d be picking me up at seven this evening, not at the crack of dawn.”

          Adam shook his head, jaw clenched. “I said I’d pick you up at seven, I didn’t necessarily say it was in the evening.”

          I stared at him, mouth hanging open. “You can’t expect me to be ready at seven in the morning!” I exclaimed, “I’m barely even conscious!”

          “It’s how I like you best,” Adam muttered under his breath. “Now get ready, it’s five past seven. We’re going to be late.”

          “Late for what?” I demanded, “How on earth can you humanly be late for something at seven in the morning?”

          But, since Adam usually got his way, fifteen minutes later I found myself sulkily dragging my suitcase as I followed him to the elevator.