Bittersweet Expectations (Hate at First Flight #0.5)

12. Julian Van Dyke

Once we had Ethan on the couch, lying on his stomach, I got up and let out a sigh of relief as I stretched my body. My body was still exhausted from today and with the unexpected workout, it felt like I would collapse very soon. He was heavy, even if we both helped in dragging him into the house.

"Ahem," I heard someone clear their throat from a few feet away, reminding me that I wasn't the only one in the room that was conscious.

I turned around, facing Ethan Clarke's friend, my face flushed with redness from embarrassment. "Sorry about that."

He waved his hand to brush off my bad manners. He took a step forward into the light that shone through from the kitchen.

Finally I saw the colour of his eyes. It was a bright green, one so bright and dazzling that I couldn't believe someone actually had it. "I think we should introduce ourselves now." His lips tugged up into a smile as he offered his hand. "Julian Van Duke. Nice to meet you, Ms..."

"Bishop. Ashleigh Bishop," I supplied as I shook his hand. "Thanks for bringing him back." I nodded at the sleeping form that had ruined my quiet night.

"It's perfectly alright," Julian winked playfully before his eyes traced my body. "I'd do it all again just to see you in silk."

I looked down and flushed and even darker shade of red when I noticed that my drape had dropped off of my shoulders and revealed my pj boxers and my camisole that had the words 'GET YOUR CUPCAKE ON' imprinted on it with a picture of a cupcake that if possible winked suggestively.

It must've fallen off when I stretched. Trying to muster up as much dignity as I could, I pulled my drape tighter around me and tied it tightly.

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mr Van Dyke," I said in a polite enough manner, given the fact that he hadn't said anything about it before, "but this will be the last time you'll see me in this." Without giving him a chance, I started ushering him towards the door. "Now if you'll be kind enough. I need to get Mr Clarke taken cared of and you look like you need some rest."

He had the audacity to not look taken aback at the sudden turn of events as if he knew what I was doing was rooted in my state of embarrassment.

Fortunately he didn't put up a fight. I looked over his shoulders towards the Rolls Royce that parked in the drive with a man that looked like he hadn't been anywhere near alcohol today. At least they had had the foresight to not get behind the wheel drunk.

"Then goodbye Mr Van Dyke," I said and before he could say anything in return, I slammed the door shut.

Remorse entered me instantly. He had done a great deed dropping of the asshole that was my boss and I'd snapped at the sign of an innocuous jest. I looked out of the window, relieved to see him get into the back seat of a Rolls Royce before it drove off into the night.

At least he would be getting home safe and sound.

As if to remind me of the tremendous task I had left to deal with, Ethan Clarke groaned from the couch.

"Now I got to clean up this mess too," I sighed. I had those ridiculous tasks to do at Building X during the day and here I had to also take care of him and his drunken tendecies.

I walked over to the couch he lay on, contemplating whether I should wake him up and take him to Building X or whether I should leave him there.

Once I came to the decision of doing the former, I reached over, surprised to see that my hand shook slightly as I tried to shake him. "Mr Clarke," I called out softly, trying not to wake up the rest of the house. "Mr Clarke."