7. Purposefully Dumb?
1314 Words
Saved by the devil himself, Emily inwardly released a big heavy sigh as the infamous and deliriously handsome Theodore King retreated back to his own floor.
What just happened? She thought to herself. Did Mrs. Steams upset his sensitive ears by her yelling?
He, who longed for quiet and solitude and was as antisocial as they came, was no doubt annoyed by her loudness. He didn’t intervene for Emily’s sake, that was for sure.
Nevertheless, he had for all intents and purposes saved her from a lay-off.
Mrs. Steams then turned to her with narrow suspicious eyes, “Stop looking at him that way, young lady,” she admonished her in a more composed manner that was so at odds with her earlier yelling, “He’s out of your league. Don’t even think for one second you’re a special case just because he saved your job.”
“Yes, Mrs. Steams,” Emily nodded her understanding.
She did agree that the man’s fortune was probably worth one too many zeroes, making him therefore so out of her league, it was dizzying and maybe - just maybe - a tad bit saddening.
She stole a glance at his retreating back once more before looking at the housekeeper, awaiting her instructions.
“Since the family heirloom issue has been cleared, you’re allowed to keep your job,” she was told off-handedly.
Family heirloom? Emily thought to herself. But he said he hated it?
“Are you listening to me?” The housekeeper bit out with some venom.
Emily let out a sheepish “Sorry?” in response as she blushed a deep crimson.
“What am I going to do with you? Love-struck already?” Mrs. Steams clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Do your job. And just do your best not to be a bother to the young master.”
The young girl merely nodded her agreement.
“What about me?” The girl whose offense was to break the vase asked in a meek voice. Emily could almost see the hope shining in her eyes that she too would be spared.
“You will not be fired,” the stern housekeeper announced, and the girl breathed out a sigh of obvious relief. “But your salary will suffer the consequences.”
“How much?” The girl squeaked out.
“You’ll have 10% cut from your salary each month,” she told her after some thinking.
“For how many months?”
“I believe its value to be around the 5000$,” she told her, almost taking malicious pleasure in the frightened look on the girl’s face, “that means you’ll have to pay off this debt over the cost of two years.”
“Yes, Mrs. Steams,” the girl was just so obviously glad she got to keep her well paid job that she didn’t breathe a word of protest.
When Cecilia joined Emily for work minutes later, right on time, she told her softly, “I’m glad you weren’t fired.”
“So am I,” Emily told her in a hushed whisper, a soft smile adorning her face.
“So, tell me how did you explain it to Mrs. Steams?”
Emily thought about what to tell her for some time. But then, seeing as she had no real reason to lie, she said the truth.
“I didn’t have to,” Emily said at first. “Well, I tried but she wouldn’t listen,” she grimaced. “The owner of the estate saved my job.”
“Oh really now?” Her friend’s eyes were sparkling. And she didn’t like giving her false hope.
“He was annoyed by her yelling,” she added in a whisper.
“Mrs. Steams was yelling?” Her coworker was astonished. “She’s always been the cold and collected kind of haughty housekeeper. I’ve never heard or seen her yell. Oh god, I’m sorry I missed that.”
“Really?” Emily glared at her.
“No offense, Ems. I know she was yelling at you,” Cecilia told her placatingly. “But come on, it would have made for such a popcorn-worthy moment.”
“Yeah, let’s laugh at Emily’s expense, why don’t we?” She pouted, going as far as to speak about herself in the third person.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Cecilia nudged her softly. “You know I love you like my little sister.”
That had the knack to bring a genuine smile to Emily’s face.
“Thank you,” she said, blushing to the roots of her hair.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
Emily was humming to a song she had listened to recently when she felt it again, someone breathing down her neck - literally.
This time around, she was prepared for the great Theodore King.
“Why are you working overtime?” He asked in his monotonous voice.
She just shrugged. “Because I have to?” It was worded out as a statement and yet uttered as a question.
Sometimes she hated herself.
“Why?” He inquired, sounding genuinely interested.
Why is he being so purposefully dumb? Emily gritted on her teeth to keep herself from shouting at him.
He needed to stop sneaking up on her.
It’s his estate, a part of her argued - the reasonable part.
But he’s a recluse who doesn’t wish for company. He should stay holed up in his room.
“I’m still waiting for your answer,” he declared when he probably deemed she had denied him the answer for far too long.
“Sorry,” she said in haste as she placed the piece of furniture back in its place and turned to face him at long last. “Because of the plate,” she answered his question, careful not to say it was a family heirloom. Careful also not to meet his eyes.
She didn’t want him to think she was coming onto him. Worse, she needed him not to change his mind regarding her job - which she definitely wanted and needed to keep.
“I see,” he said simply.
Just go away, she inwardly pleaded with him, but didn’t dare to utter a word more.
“What’s your name?” He then asked.
“Emily Nill,” she told him softly, knowing that he’d probably forget all about her name come morning.
Why was he bothering with her so?
“Well, Emily Nill,” he said earnestly, “follow me.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t make a habit of repeating myself,” he said, and then was on his way to the first floor.
He didn’t even look back to see whether she was following him.
Emily was appalled by the man, and outraged by his manners.
You don’t just order people to follow you and expect them to oblige, she thought to herself as she followed after him, feeling like her face was on fire - and not from embarrassment mind you.
She was furious.
But when faced by none other than Mrs. Steams, who was looking at her as if she wished she could kill her on the spot and burn her corpse, she felt herself pale.
What did she do? Did she offend him somehow?
Oh god, let this be the last of my torments, she prayed, since it was her last resort.
- Writer
