Million Dollar Maid ✔

Chapter 20

She'd be lying if she said his touch hadn't affected her in some way or another. The entire rest of the next she couldn't focus on anything but that moment. When sleep finally came she was relieved to find she'd fallen into a dreamless slumber, only to be reminded of that very moment as soon as she woke up.

Dinner had been a quiet affair, she hadn't known what to say and he seemed to be too tired to start talking about anything. After finishing she'd quietly thanked him for the food before washing the dishes and fleeing to her room.

Man up, Ava. He barely touched you and he only did it to cheer you up, she mentally told herself in the mirror. Forget it ever happened.

It was easier said than done because every now and then he'd pop back up in her thoughts and she'd have to force herself to think about anything else. When she was finally confident she was starting to succeed in it, the sound of the front door opening threw her from her thoughts.

Her stomach churned at the thought of having to face the condescending assistant from before but to her surprise, it was Sébastien himself. It was still fairly early in the morning so seeing him was not something she expected to see.

"Mr.—Sébastien," she corrected herself. It was still a little unusual for her to call him by his first name but it was getting easier, save for the occasional slip-up. "Why are you back so soon?"

"I'm... not feeling well. I'm going to lay down for a bit," he murmured while walking past her, sending spikes of concern through her mind. He really did look terrible, she noted.

His face was almost devoid of any color and even his hair seemed a duller shade of brown than it usually was. Bags under his eyes made her think that his night had been shitty too which was only reinforced by his sluggish movements.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked while moving to walk beside him but he shook his head no. "No, but thank you."

There wasn't much else to do but watch him drag himself up the stairs before disappearing. With a sigh, she thought of ways to help him anyway. The least she could do was bring him some Tylenol and a glass of water, so that's what she set out to do.

Locating the Tylenol was a task by itself and at some point, she wondered if he even had any. Eventually, she found it after digging through one of the cabinets and quickly went to fill a glass of water before walking up the stairs.

His bedroom door was slightly ajar but she still knocked. She didn't hear anything from the other side and briefly considered just leaving it in front of the door. But then he wouldn't find it when he needed it and just step on the glass when he left.

So, she pushed the door open little by little until he came into sight. He wasn't laying on his bed like she'd expected him to. Instead, he hung half over his sofa on his back and neck in awkward positions.

He'd at least managed to find the strength to change his clothing as he now wore just a white shirt and grey shorts. A thin veil of sweat coated his exposed limbs and she understood why he'd dressed as if they were in the middle of the summer.

The arm slung over his face covered his features but she could see enough to realize he was fast asleep.

If she were to leave like he was laying now he was sure to wake up with back problems, which she didn't wish on him. So she put the water and pills on the small table next to the couch and moved to hover above him.

Both his legs were off the couch as he appeared to be half sitting and half laying down. His torso was shifted to the side while his head was craned against the side cushions.