Ethan Clarke was avoiding me.
That was the only conclusion that seemed to make sense to me as I sat half reclined on the sofa.
My attention was split between the book that I had grabbed from the library earlier when I was cleaning it and the clock that seemed almost defective with how slow the second hand was ticking by.
He was avoiding me.
The entire day had passed by without a single sighting of him.
Any glimmer of hope I had of asking him whether he had taken me to my room had disappeared because by the time I had come downstairs, he had already left for the day.
The house was devoid of his presence, and like the day before, he hadn't left his usual note on the tasks I needed to do.
The last time I had seen him was Sunday night when he was drinking by the patio. And ever since then, I hadn't even seen his shadow.
He was going out of his way to avoid me.
The reason as to why, I couldn't quite pinpoint because it didn't make sense.
Was he avoiding me because of the looming fact that I might quit and take the position Julie had offered?
The other reason was the one that didn't make sense.
Was it because of the phone call that I had with Leah? But if it was, why did he care about the so-called date on Friday?
And the one that made the most sense, he was just avoiding me because he regretted having me living with him in the first place?
Whatever reason it might be, it only made sense that the only conclusion I could come to was that he was avoiding me.
I stared at the clock again.
It had only been five minutes since I last stared at it. It was already twenty-eight minutes past ten.
I sighed as I flipped the page of the book and tried to read what was etched on its pages despite not remembering what I had read in the past thirty or so minutes.
My attention was focused on other things.
Like the conclusion that I had come to earlier today.
That I would stay him for the remainder of the three months that we had agreed to earlier and that once that was done that I would accept Julie's offer.
Of course, I had called Julie earlier during the day to ask her if that would be possible.
"Of course, love," she had responded enthusiastically when I had asked earlier. "I totally understand. You have to .... tie up loose ends."
I nodded, smiling, happy that she understood. I had initially expected that she would say that she couldn't wait for three months for me.
It seemed only right that I give them notice instead of just upping and leaving without any warning.
Now, all that was left to do was to let Ethan know. Now, if I could only meet him face to face, of course.
It didn't seem right to just send him a text to tell him.
I tried not to laugh as I thought of what exactly I would type.
Hey, it's me, your maid.
Remember Sunday?
I'm quitting after three months.
Just a heads up.
Cheers
Ashleigh Bishop
That would go over marvelously.
I took a small sip of the wine that Julian had left me on Sunday. I had poured myself a glass because I needed the liquid courage before I could muster up the courage to speak to Ethan Clarke.
I moaned as the wine hit my senses. It was fragrant and sweet with an earthy aftertaste. I took another swip and smiled, reminding myself to thank Julian for choosing a great wine.
Another fifteen minutes passed before I decided that I would try again tomorrow. I closed the book and placed it on the coffee table before sitting back upright.
Just as I was finishing off the wine that was left in my glass, I heard someone at the door. I froze, glancing at the time. It was already ten to eleven.
Seconds later, the door opened.
From where I sat in the living room, I couldn't see him. Not that I could have otherwise as the only light that was on inside the house was the lamp standing upright beside me, and of course almost spotlighting where I sat.
I heard him before I could see him.
His heavy breathing that echoed from where he stood revealed his presence.
Seconds followed as he made no other sound except for it.
I tensed as I felt his gaze fix steadily on me, heavy as it burned into me.
I squinted as I tried to pinpoint where exactly he was.
Another couple of seconds followed, and neither of us said a word.
Was he planning to spend the entire night just standing there?
When it seemed like he was, in fact, planning to do just that, I decided that I might as well speak first if I wanted to go to the comfort of my bed tonight.
"You're avoiding me," my words filled the silence and hung in the air.
It was a good while before he spoke. Long enough that it seemed like he wouldn't.
"And you're still awake."
His voice was low and husky, as if he had been starved of oxygen and water the entire day.
I digested his words, my brows furrowed together as I read the underlying message.
Did he just agree that he was avoiding me?
"I'm sorry to disappoint, Mr Clarke," I said dryly in response. "I wanted to speak to you."
"About?" His response this time was quicker.
"I'd rather speak to you face and not into the darkness for that," I sighed when it took him a while to step out of the darkness.
When he did, his appearance left me shocked.
Ethan Clarke looked dishelved and unkempt.
His hair was messy as if someone had been paid to make it the messiest it could possibly be.
His eyes were sunken in, and it looked like he hadn't slept in days, and for once, his body didn't fill in his suit like it had been tailored to fit him. If anything, he looked like he had lost weight in the past couple of days.
"Are you okay, Mr Clarke?" I asked instantly. Any thought of what I planned to do had disappeared instantly.
He chuckled, almost dryly as if he found my concern hilarious. "What? Do I not look okay to you?"
I sighed in frustration at his words. "If I'm being honest, you look like you haven't slept, haven't eaten in days, and you're seconds away from needing an IV drip."
He chuckled once again. "Why, thanks. I was going for the starving model look."
I couldn't help but glare at him. "I'm serious, Ethan!"
"Fine, fine," he held up both hands in sign of surrender. "Now, what did you want to talk about... Ashleight?" He dragged out, pronouncing my name, almost as if he was taunting me.
"That's not important right now," I sighed , slowly losing my patience with the man standing in front of me. "Have you had anything to eat today?"
"Ashleigh, Ashleigh, Ashleigh..." he repeated my name over and over again.
"Ethan, for the love of everything good in the world, will you just answer my question."
He fixed me with a stare so heavy that I felt my face start to burn up. "Does alcohol count?"
That explains the way he was acting and looked.
My eyes narrowed at him in confusion at his words. In what world does alcohol count as food?
"No, it doesn't count !"
His face made an Oh! expression before he added, "Then no, I haven't."
I got up from the sofa without another word to him and walked past him.
"Where are you going? You wanted to talk!" He yelled after me like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
"The kitchen," I replied just as I disappeared into it.
I looked around the pantry, hoping I could find something quick and easy to whip up.
I grabbed some ingredients and placed them on the counter.
Minutes later, I had the onions, tomato, and garlic sautéing in olive oil on the pan on the stove before I threw in the ground beef and other ingredients. As that was cooking, I pulled out two burger buns and toasted them.
It took twenty minutes to have everything ready, and by then, the heavenly aroma had enveloped the entire kitchen.
"That looks mouthwatering," Ethan Clarke's voice had me almost jumping at how close and loud it sounded.
I turned my head to tell him off for being so loud but stopped, eyes wide opened when our noses almost touched since his face was so close.
Instantly, I forgot how to breathe and function at the close proximity.
He didn't react or move away.
He had showered and freshened up in the time I had been cooking. His hair was still wet, hanging over his face and giving him an almost boyish look. He smelt of soap, mint, and a tinge of wood and earthy aroma.
Both of us stared at each other long enough that I swear he could hear the way my traitorous heart was pounding hard against my chest.
"The food is burning," Ethan Clarke's voice ended the silence and drew me out of whatever craziness my mind was delving into. Not to mention the smirk that he tried to not show.
Only when he mentioned it did I realize that the food had really started to burn.
"Oh shit!" I screamed before I turned around just in time to add in some water I had kept on the counter for these situations.
Ethan Clarke burst out laughing. "I like my meat rare and not well done, thank you very much."
I rolled my eyes. I hadn't expected him to come into the kitchen. If anything, I expected that I would've had to force him to eat.
I plated everything up and placed it on the counter in front of Ethan Clarke.
He didn't even need me to push him to eat. He grabbed the sloppy joe and took a huge bite.
His face exploded into an expression that was a mix of happiness, ecstasy, and euphoria as he closed his eyes.
I chuckled as I saw his reaction. "How is it?"
He opened his eyes, eyes piercing mine as he spoke, "That was .... " his eyes shone with mischief, ".... delectable."
I felt my face burn up and knew that I probably resembled a ripe tomato.
I simply nodded before turning around to start cleaning up the mess I had left behind in my rush to cook for him.
"You're a great cook," he continued as I started washing the dishes.
"Thanks."
The only sound that followed was of the water running as I washed the dishes and that of Ethan Clarke eating.
Once I had everything put away, I turned back to face him. He was almost done with the second burger.
"Thanks," he paused as he tried to find the words, "for cooking. I didn't realize how hungry I was until that first bite."
I nodded. "You looked like you were starving."
He laughed as he got up and took his empty plate to the sink. He was washing the dishes before I could even react, leaving me speechless.
"So..." he turned around and leaned against the sink as he wiped his hands with a dish towel, "what was it that you wanted to talk about?"
I furrowed my brows together, momentarily confused by his question, before I remembered. "It's not important right now. We can discuss it tomorrow. "
"It was important enough that you stayed up this long waiting for me," he smirked.
"It's almost midnight, Mr Clarke. It can -"
He burst out laughing, cutting me off.
"What?" I asked him, confused at his reaction.
He wiped a non-existent from his eyes, and his laughs slowed to a chuckle. "It's hilarious how easily you switch between Mr Clarke and Ethan, Ms Bishop." He stressed my name, so I got his point.
"I -" Once again, I felt like hiding from his gaze. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Don't apologize. I... find it amusing."
I gave him a fake smile, noting down that I wouldn't slip up ever again and that I should always call him Mr Clarke from then on.
"So about ..."
I knew where he was going. "About my employment."
There was silence.
I watched him as he digested my words.
The second hand ticking by grew louder with each second.
Finally, he spoke. "What about your employment?"
"I'm leaving Building X," I replied.
He pressed his lips together, forming a thin line as his eyes remained on mine.
This was going to be a long night.