"And while the world continued
to revolve,
she was stuck in the place
closest to the sun.
She bathed in the brightness,
but failed to notice that
she was already burning."
~Midara
Scarlett Ambrose was not someone to be taken by surprise anymore.
However, when Ace Hardwood had slammed open her office door after meeting with Terrence Burke, she was almost sure she was getting fired, or worse, but what happened was pretty much the opposite.
"What?" she asked, completely confused.
"You're moving in with me," Ace repeated, like he was saying something as normal as the weather.
Scarlett squinted her eyes at him. In her mind, she knew that moving in with Ace would only help her finish her job faster, but she knew she couldn't seem too eager.
"I don't think I'm hearing you correctly."
"You're hearing me just fine, Ambrose," Ace stepped into the office and closed the door behind him, "We are going to be housemates."
Scarlett pushed her chair back. "Why? I thought you couldn't stand my defiance."
Ace raised his eyebrows. "I can't, but I also cannot stand the inconvenience of you living so far away. Whenever I want to do some work, I somehow seem to find that the resources I need are with you. Also, you've been behaving strangely, and I would like to keep an eye on you."
"You're the one behaving strangely."
"I'm paying you, Ambrose. You do as I say," he said, firmly, towering over her from the other side of her desk.
"You want me to move in with you?" Scarlett asked, leaning forward. Ace nodded. Standing, Scarlett leaned over her desk with a mischievous smile. "Shouldn't you at least buy me dinner first?"
Ace smiled at her comment. "I'll be buying you dinner for many nights to come, Ambrose."
"You want to let a complete stranger into your house?" she asked.
Ace shrugged. "If you're trying to kill me, I'd rather you be in my house where I can keep an eye on you."
"What about you lady friends?" Scarlett asked.
"You seem very interested in my sex life, Ambrose," he scoffed, "In case you haven't noticed, I have a fairly big house. I'm sure you'll be able to stay out of my way."
"Whatever will they think when they see another woman there?" she asked, smirking.
"Nothing, because they won't see you. You can turn up in the morning if one of them is particularly reluctant to leave."
Leaning over her desk, Scarlett looked Ace up and down, with that sly smile of hers. "You mean they're not dying to leave after they endure whatever is underneath that suit?" She flicked her index finger up and down, gesturing to Ace's body.
He caught her finger in his hand and pulled her towards him. "I think you're very well aware that what's under this suit is nothing, but amazing. Don't tell me you don't fantasize."
Scarlett pulled her finger out of his grasp and scoffed. "Fantasize about killing you, maybe."
Ace laughed, amused by how he had made her nervous. "This is going to be fun, Ambrose. You can pack a bag after work and come to my house and we'll try this over the weekend."
Before Scarlett could raise any protest, Ace had sauntered out of the room, feeling especially happy with himself. Scarlett bit the inside of her cheek and thought.
Watching the direction in which Ace had gone, Scarlett smiled. She was going to get what she wanted sooner than she thought she would.
When five in the evening rolled around, Ace popped his head into Scarlett's office, where she stood at the cabinet, fed up of sitting down, leafing through pages and pages of gifts for Ace's brother-in-law.
"You'd better get home and pack yourself a bag, Ambrose," he said.
Scarlett slammed her laptop shut and rubbed her eyes. "You seem awfully excited to have a roommate."
"Not a roommate, Ambrose," Ace shook his head, "My room is out of bounds to you."
Scarlett stuck her tongue out at him for lack of a better response. "I'll be at your place in about two hours," she sighed, tucking her laptop into its case.
Ace grinned. "Great."
Once she was home, Scarlett purposefully packed a bag which would carry her through only two days, determined to visit Grace over the weekend.
When she arrived at Ace's apartment complex, the place seemed to loom above her. Making her way down the now familiar hallways, she stood outside Ace's door, hoping Belinda would answer it.
Ace's face greeted her, instead. "Ambrose, how nice of you to come."
"You didn't give me much of a choice," Scarlett stepped in.
"Just the way I like it," Ace said, gesturing for Scarlett to follow him, "Come, let me give you the tour."
The only places within Ace's penthouse that Scarlett had seen were the foyer, his breakfast nook and kitchen. Everything seemed so different in the night. The grey accents that the house had brought out a steely look that almost screamed that it was owned by a heterosexual man. She followed him marveling at the glory that was Ace's house.
"That's is my home-office," he said, gesturing to a closed door, walking past it.
They passed the large living room, which was fit to host any party and came to what seemed to be the coziest room in the house.
"TV room," Ace said, gesturing to the space with a comfortable looking cloud couch and blackout curtains.
Scarlett glanced around. "Do you plug yourself into a wall at night?" she asked, "Because there was no bedroom."
Ace smirked and pointed across the room.
She followed his finger and saw that far corner of the space housed a winding staircase that led to the upper floor.
Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Of course, Ace Hardwood has a two-level penthouse."
"Let me show you your bedroom," he said, taking her bag out of her hands and leading her up the staircase.
Scarlett followed him on to the landing, which held another small seating area and a stereo system.
He gestured to one side of the landing. "That's my room," he pointed to closed doors, "You're not allowed in there without my permission."
Scarlett held her hands up in defense. She followed him down the hallway to the other side of the landing, which had three rooms.
"You can take this room," he said, opening the door to the room which sat at the end of the landing, tucked into the corner, "There's a TV in here and an en-suite bathroom."
Scarlett stepped into her new room. It was a lovely guest room, which was decorated in earthy tones. There was a large, cozy looking bed, a spacious closet, a bathroom that seemed luxurious and a desk and vanity in addition to the TV.
Standing near Ace at the threshold to the room, she smiled at him. "It's beautiful."
"Great," Ace set her bag on the floor near the desk and stepped out of the room. "I'm going to freshen up. Feel free to wander into the kitchen, grab a snack. I'll be back."
Ace disappeared, leaving Scarlett feeling rather strange to be standing in some random man's house.
Since she had already showered and changed, she wandered back downstairs and into the kitchen, as her hunger pangs called her.
Deciding that the least she could do was make dinner, Scarlett pulled out supplies and tools from the various cupboards in the kitchen and set to work.
Humming softly to herself, she peeled and chopped some potatoes before throwing them into a pan to boil and began grating a block of cheese.
She was halfway through mashing the boiled potatoes, when she was interrupted.
"Ambrose, what are you doing?"
Ace walked into the kitchen, wearing a pair of grey track pants and a loose-fitting white Henley Y-neck t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbow. It was the most casually dressed Scarlett had ever seen him. The strong muscles that were only hinted at underneath his suits were more than apparent. The baggy t-shirt hung off his broad shoulders, not giving much away, but showing enough to know that Ace spent time in the gym.
Scarlett held the masher in her hand, her hair held off her face with the help of a bandana. "Making dinner?" She posed it almost as a question.
Ace glanced at her and chuckled. "For future reference, Ambrose," he walked over to the oven, "Belinda makes me dinner and keeps it in the oven." He opened the oven door to reveal a casserole dish that had a baked pasta.
Scarlett's shoulders dropped. "Oh. I didn't know."
Ace shut the oven with a smile. "Clearly. Did you think I come home and fend for myself every day?"
Scarlett stuck the masher back into the pot. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot that Mr. Billionaire doesn't need to cook for himself and doesn't know what it's like to be a normal person."
Ace regarded her. "Alright, Ambrose," he shrugged, "Let's have a normal person Friday night, shall we?" He walked over to her and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge. "What does a normal Friday look like?"
Scarlett sighed. "Well, normal people tend to go out and party on Friday night, I guess."
"Not you?"
"Sometimes, Danielle, my neighbour, and I order in take-out and watch whatever in on TV and just fall asleep on the couch on Fridays," she told him, "When she's not around, I visit my friend, Grace and have dinner with her, or make myself some food and watch a random Hallmark movie."
Ace took in all of this information.
"What do you do on Fridays?" Scarlett asked.
Ace shrugged. "Eat whatever Belinda made for me," he thought, "And maybe, watch a random Hallmark movie."
Scarlett gave him a look. "Who knew you could be funny?"
"I'll tell you what, Ambrose," he said, "We'll leave Belinda's pasta for another day and have a normal person's Friday night. Of course, from here. We'll eat whatever you're concocting there and got from there, shall we?"
"Really?"
Ace pushed his sleeves further up and washed his hands. "What are we making?"
Scarlett watched him as he walked over to her, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. "Korean style potato pancakes."
"Great," Ace said, without a hint of recognition as to what she meant, "What can I do?"
"Do you have rice flour?" Scarlett asked.
Ace gave her a look. "Do I look like would I know whether I have rice flour?"
Scarlett began mashing the potatoes again. "You shouldn't take pride in not knowing what goes on in your own kitchen. For all you know, Belinda could be cooking meth."
Ace snorted. "I'd pay good money to see Belinda cook meth," he said, like it was the most asinine thing he had ever heard.
"Just look for it," Scarlett sighed, rolling her eyes.
"What does it look like?" Ace asked.
"For someone who managed to make a billion dollars, you're awfully stupid. It looks like flour; probably has the words 'rice' and 'flour' on the packet."
"One of these days," Ace began walking towards the pantry, "You're going to treat me with the respect that is deserved of someone who's your boss. Remember, I write your cheques every month."
"Remember, I have access to your favourite tailor and I can convince him to make sure you look like a circus freak," Scarlett cautioned.
Ace set an air-tight container labeled 'Rice Flour' on to the counter near Scarlett. "I wouldn't look like a circus freak no matter what I wear."
"Mmm," Scarlett sighed, stepping back and eyeing him slowly, from his bare feet, all the way to his deep, green eyes, "You're right," she made sure to linger her gaze on his lips before looking him in the eyes again, "You'd be more like the ringmaster."
Ace leaned into her, his eyes peering at her intently, holding her gaze, as he spoke in a deep, smooth tone. "Careful, Ambrose. You ogle me so much; you might fall in love with me."
Scarlett gave him a look. "Don't flatter yourself. I don't love anyone."
Ace considered what Scarlett said. "I said you might, not that you do."
Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Why'd you want me here, anyway? I'll probably only be in your way, what with all your conquests and I don't know, nights where you sit and stare into the abyss."
"Do you think I'm the Grinch, Ambrose?"
She raised one shoulder in a shrug. "I don't know how small your heart is."
Ace exhaled and shook his head. "Having you live with me will pose some benefits."
"Does living with you come with benefits?" Scarlett asked, mischievously.
Ace smirked. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see. Now," he rubbed his hands together, "What do I do?"
Scarlett spooned rice flour into the potatoes. "Get a pan and heat some oil in it."
Ace fumbled around, holding up various pots and pans to her and set the one she approved of down on the stove. "Where'd you learn to cook Korean food?" he asked.
"YouTube," she answered, flatly.
Ace began to laugh, but his phone ringing interrupted him. He left the pan heating on the stove and answered the call. "Michael, tell me," he said, moving near the door.
Scarlett slowed down what she was doing and listened intently.
"Would I have to go meet him?" Ace asked.
Scarlett's ears perked up.
"Alright, I can do that. I could go meet him next week," he said, "Get a date and a time for me."
She hastily went back to rolling the door as Ace returned to her side.
"What's that about?" she asked.
Ace shook his head. "If you need to know, Ambrose, I'll tell you."
Scarlett groaned, internally. Getting information out of Ace was proving to be a lot harder than she anticipated. He was guarded. The men she had encountered before were willing to let her into their lives, ready to divulge their secrets to the innocent little girl who batted her baby blues at them. Ace, however, didn't seem in the least affected by what she said or did. All he did was retort to her sarcasm and get on her nerves.
"Well, you need to know that you should get a skimmer spoon." Seeing Ace's confused expression, she added, "The spoon with holes to drain oil, genius."
Realization dawning, he nodded and then armed himself with the utensil.
Soon enough, they were seated on either side of the kitchen counter, gorging themselves on potato pancakes.
"Ambrose, these are great," Ace said, his mouth full.
Scarlett made a face. "All those women who call you on your fake birthday and the ones who refuse to leave your house in the mornings should see this. They'd never want to even admit they knew you."
Ace grinned his crooked grin, still chewing. "I think you know very well that they'd still want me."
"They'd want to run away from you," she nodded, picking up a pancake and biting down on it.
"What about you? You don't even use cutlery," Ace said, jabbing his knife in her direction.
Scarlett shrugged. "Still pretty."
Ace watched her as he set his fork and knife down and picked a pancake up with his fingers.
"Hypocrite!" Scarlett gasped.
He sighed, giving in and then laughed. "You didn't bring enough clothes, Ambrose. Don't think you can wear any of mine."
"I'm going to go home tomorrow and bring some more," she said, like it was obvious, "Why didn't you just let me spend the weekend there anyway?"
Ace considered this. "I'm sure you'll prove useful during the weekend. There's some work I need to do, so you can help me do it by doing all the chores that would just take up my precious time. And you could consider it the trial period."
"Well, you certainly think a lot of yourself."
"I don't pay you to look pretty, Ambrose."
Scarlett nodded, with a smirk. "That's true, because if you did, you'd have to pay me a lot more."
Ace chuckled at that comment, impressed by her wit. "What's someone like you doing working for someone like Dan Andrews? Or me, for that matter, as a PA?"
Scarlett shrugged. "Maybe that's all I'm good for."
Ace shook his head, gazing at her, his mind reeling. "There's something you're not telling me, Ambrose. And I'm going to find out what it is."
And so, the story unfolds.
Don't forget to let me know what you think. :)
About the potato pancakes.....
Please don't shoot me. I'm not Korean. I saw the recipe on YouTube and loved it, so I added it into the story.
Any Koreans, if they are reading, can let us all know if this recipe is authentically Korean or not.
I've tried them. They're pretty good.
If you would like to make it yourself, here you go: