by Mel Ryle
“Mr. Maxwell. I wanted to say thank you for this past week,” I started, taking a step towards him.
He turned back to me, his eyes wide. It was like he had finally realized who I was. “Andy. No. It was nothing,” he replied, slightly straightening his stance.
“Uhm... May I come in?” I asked after a short pause, nodding my head inside his apartment.
“Oh. Right. That was rude of me. Please,” he said frantically, opening the door wide as he gestured for me to go in.
I gave him a weak smile and walked past him. The first thing that caught my eye was the clear glass wall across the room. It was like the one in his office. The room was spacious with little furniture present, like his office. I slowly made my way to a huge black couch in the middle of the room. I turned to my right and noticed a huge painting.
“You like Renaissance art?” I asked as I continued to study the painting from afar.
“Yes. I like how it holds beauty and history at the same time,” William replied softly as he sat down on the couch, grabbing a dark red wool blanket that was laid out beside him.
I turned towards him, studying his pale face. “How ill are you?” I asked as I took a step closer to him.
“It’s just the flu. I’m not on my death bed yet,” he stated with a chuckle, which turned into a series of coughs.
I bit my lower lip in concentration as I gauged his actions. He continued to cough a few times after a short pause. With a defeated sigh, I walked towards him and placed my hand on his forehead and neck. My hand was greeted by his burning skin. He was sicker than he thought. I placed my hand on his shoulder and forced him to lie down on the couch.
“What are you doing?” he asked in confusion as he resisted, placing one of his warm hand on my wrist.
“You need to lie down. You are heating up badly.” I forced him down a little harder.
He looked at me for a second before giving in. I grabbed one of the pillows nearby and put it under his head as I slowly brought him down on the couch. Then I grabbed the blanket and covered his whole body with it.
“Have you eaten?” I asked silently as I lightly patted down the sheet onto him.
“I don’t know... I forgot...” he replied, as he turned his head away from me.
I stood up and looked around the vast room until my eyes landed on a kitchen counter. “Do you have chicken in your fridge?” I asked as I glanced down to him.
“I don’t know. What do you want to do with a chicken?” he asked grimly as he glanced up at me in confusion.
“I’m making you some chicken soup,” I replied with conviction and walked away from him. I know I’m going to regret this if I don’t act fast.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked aloud, his voice raspy as he coughed again.
“It’s not what you think. Now, sleep while I make you soup,” I instructed sternly, as I hunted for utensils and ingredients.
Half an hour had passed and the chicken soup was almost done. I kept it warm for a while and checked on William. I silently walked back to the living room. I could hear his soft snores and chuckled at the noise. Slowly, I peeked through the back of the couch to see his sleeping face. The blanket was up to his chin and his dirty blond hair stuck to his pale face as sweat started to form. I smiled at how innocent he looked at that moment. Even a man who talked like he owned the world had vulnerable moments.
I lightly slapped his forehead to wake him up a few minutes later. He groaned in annoyance before opening his blue eyes. He looked disoriented as he quickly sat up on his couch and turned towards me.
“You look like a wet golden retriever,” I remarked with a laugh, shaking my head in amusement.
“You’re the only person I know who can be cruel enough to laugh at a sick person,” he countered with a suggestive smile.
Since the first time I stepped into his apartment, his eyes gleamed back with their usual bright blue shade as his lips tugged up into a smile. I liked his smile. He looked more alive than before. Like a bullet train, some sense hit me. What was I doing here, making him a meal, taking care of him?
As he saw my sudden change of expression, the smile on his face was gone as the glint in his eyes hardened back to its dim color.
“Here’s your chicken soup. Eat it all up so you’ll get better,” I instructed as I grabbed the tray on the table beside me and placed it in front of him.
“Thank you,” he replied, looking down at the steaming bowl.
“No problem.” I walked a few steps away from him, gathering my bag and coat, which I had placed on the couch beside him.
He noticed my action and moved the tray from his lap to the couch. “Where are you going?” he asked frantically.
“I’m heading back. It’s getting late,” I replied softly as I glanced down at my watch. It was almost nine in the evening.
“Why don’t you stay over for the night?” he offered silently, as he finally stood up.
“Mr. Maxwell...” I started in protest.
“Please. I have an extra room down the hall,” he interrupted as he gestured towards a dark hallway on the right side.
I eyed him for a second. “I don’t think it’s professional that I’m...” I started again, my voice weak and low.
“If you’re afraid that I might do something to you, I won’t. I’m not well enough for anything at the moment,” he said with a teasing grin.
My lips twitched upward at his arrogance. Even when he’s sick, he was still arrogant. I shook my head in amusement as he continued to stand there, shifting his weight from one foot to another, waiting for my reply.
“Mr. Maxwell...” I started again. My voice had more force to them than before.
“Please,” he interjected again pleadingly. His eyes gleamed as if they were crying out to me. It was filled with sadness and a sense of loneliness.
With sigh of defeat, I shook my head in disbelief as I placed my bag and coat back down beside the couch. “I’m going to regret this,” I pointed out softly to myself.
William smiled brightly at my actions and went back to his couch, placing the tray back on his lap. I can’t believe that the man that I once hated convinced me to stay the night. I can’t believe that he was able to weaken my resolve with his blue eyes. What is happening to me?
Twenty-Four
While William silently finished his chicken soup, I sat across from him as I entertained myself with one of the magazines on his table. This one had him on the front cover. He saw me eyeing it as he dug into his soup and asked me to read it. I refused at first but he wanted me to read about his interview and give him my opinion.
Once I finished reading the magazine, I stalled giving him my opinion and pretended to continue reading. As soon as he was done with his chicken soup, I got the tray from his hands and washed the dishes.
He didn’t stop me or wrestle the tray away from me as I took it from him. He was rather silent and observant as he gazed at me curiously. I was glad to be out of his sight for a while as I washed the dishes. I didn’t need him distracting me and messing with my head.
When I was done, I went back to the living room awkwardly. Now, we had to start talking or this would lead into one of the most awful nights for both of us.
“So, what do you think?” he asked worriedly as I settled back down on the couch across from him.
“You did fine. Your reply was very convincing...” I replied bleakly as I tried to dodge his eyes. I don’t want those blue eyes hypnotizing me again.
“Fine? Are you certain? My quotes and replies in that magazine is Nobel Prize worthy,” he stated smugly with a chuckle, after which he coughed twice.
“Yes, because telling the reporter crap about business and life is Nobel Prize worthy. Did you even listen to half of what you said in that article?” I stated sarcastically and rolled my eyes.
“No. I have not,” he replied seriously, his tone making me turn to look at him.
“Oh, come on. At least you turned your enemies i
nto your allies in the business world,” I remarked with a small smile.
“Well, I did some things in the business world. But, not really turning my enemies into my friends,” he countered as his eyes gleamed brightly.
“Then, don’t pretend,” I stated seriously, eyeing him deadly.
“I’m not. So, are you pretending?” he asked after a short pause.
I scrunched my eyebrows, not sure where the topic was going. “What are you talking about?”
“Are you pretending to be friends with me?” he asked firmly, his eyes grave and serious.
“Mr. Maxwell. You insisted to be friends with me...” I said in annoyance, but trailed off as he cut me off.
“I didn’t insist on anything. I asked you to be my friend.”
I eyed him sharply, not sure how I was going to respond to his words.
“So, are you pretending?” he asked again after a few moment of silence.
“I’m not the kind of person who—” I started, my tone rose an octave as my anger raged within me.
“Why are you denying it? It quite obvious you take my friendship as a joke,” he cut in again but this time he slowly stood up, towering over me.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to pretend but you’re making it really hard for me...” I began again and rose up to his height, though he was still a head taller than me at six two or three from my five eight frame.
“Why do you shy away from people’s help? I read some of the files that Mark has gotten for me about you...”
“You don’t know anything about me!” I gasped in rage, stopping him mid-sentence. “You might have read and you might know secrets that only a few know, but you’ll never know what is in my head or heart. I don’t know what you are you trying to prove, asking me these ridiculous questions... Are you really that interested in me that you would go to such lengths? And, where do you even find these files?” I asked harshly, my voice breaking slightly as I controlled my anger. As much as I tried, I still sounded pissed.
“Yes. I’m interested in you and it pisses me off that you aren’t interested in me,” he replied in the same tone as he stepped closer to me. The distance between us was becoming way too close for comfort.
I gaped at him, my mouth hanging wide open in shock. Did he really say that?
For a second, silence was the only thing I could hear in the room. Then, William started coughing again. But, this time it was a lot harsher and his breathing became ragged.
“Do you have any medicine you can take?” I asked softly as I lightly placed my hand on his back, rubbing it in comfort.
He nodded his head for a second and slowly leaned on me when his knees buckled at the severity of his coughs. With a grunt, I held on to his waist and helped him get back on the couch. But he stopped me and pointed at the hallways across the room.
“Please take me to my room. I have my medicine there,” he instructed with his raspy voice as he tried to take a steady step.
With a nod of reply, I helped him get to his room. The hallway was poorly lit by one lamp on a table in a corner. The walk took a bit longer since his room was located on the far end of the hallway. When we reached his bedroom door, I struggled to open it while taking some of his weight. After that, I half dragged him to his bed across the room. For a second, I was stunned at how spacious and empty it was. Another thing I knew about William Maxwell was that the man liked to live in a spacious place with little furniture. That just says a lot of things about him.
“Here we are.” I helped him recline on the right side of his king-sized bed, with gray and white sheets, which was mostly what the color of his room was.
“My medication is just on the table there,” he stated as he pointed at the working desk across from me, on the left corner of the room. And from the looks of the piles of paper on it, I’m surprise he hadn’t gotten this cold virus earlier in the month.
After getting the medicine and a glass of water from a small fridge beside the desk, which I didn’t notice until he pointed it out, I helped him drink it. When he was finished, I was about to leave when he suddenly grabbed my wrist.
“Can you stay here for a while?” he begged, his voice low and sleepy.
I stared at him for a second and glanced down at my wrist where he tightened his hold. I looked back up to him and raised my eyebrow. He continued to look at me and tightened his grip again. In a sigh of defeat, I sat down by the foot of his bed and he let go of my hand.
“So, why did you come here?” he asked after a short silence.
“I told you I wanted to say thank you for everything. It was very generous of you,” I replied with a sigh. I won’t mention about the papers he had to sign. He needed to take his mind off work just for tonight.
“Do you really expect me to believe that reason?” he asked with a weak smile playing at the ends of his lips.
My lips tightened into a grim line as I eyed him. “Yes. You can think whatever you want to think. What I said is the truth whether you believe it or not.”
“Why do you like arguing with me?” he asked seriously.
I looked at him confused and opened my mouth for a reply, but no words came out. I closed them and cleared my throat, trying again. “I don’t like arguing with you,” I defended.
This answer might be what he expected from me with the way his eyes glinted in amusement. “You are doing it now,” he accused.
“Then why are you trying to piss me off?” I countered sternly, eyeing him deadly.
He chuckled at my question and snuggled up in his comforter, bringing it up to his chin. “I’m not trying to piss you off. The truth is I’m trying not to,” he mumbled softly in admission.
I stiffened at his words. “Stop talking nonsense and get some sleep,” I suggested as I shook my head in disbelief and stood up.
“Do you still think I’m joking around? I meant what I said about being interested in you,” he said, bringing me to a halt as I turned towards the door.
I turned back to him, my eyes wide in shock. “What are you saying?” I asked.
“You know what I’m trying to say,” William pointed out as he sat back up in his bed, his eyes staring directly at mine. “Don’t pretend that you don’t get what I mean, Andy.”
“If what you’re saying is true, then why be a jerk?” I asked, frustrated.
“You are being unreasonably difficult,” he replied softly in guilt.
“Mr. Maxwell.” I let out a strained sigh. “How do you expect me to believe everything you said after how you’ve treated me when we met?”
“I know how I treated you, Andy. But, I’ve made up for it remember?” he countered intently, making his words sound more domineering.
“So, you expect me to return the favor just like that?” I asked bitingly, gawking at him in disbelief. “You know it doesn’t work that way,” I added.
William looked at me in shock and disbelief. He couldn’t open his mouth to reply. For the first time since I met him, he looked apologetic as his lips tightened into a grim line.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, breaking the short silence.
“I’ll think about forgiving you,” I replied softly as I turned away from him. “Good night, Mr. Maxwell... And, I forgive you,” I spouted as I opened the door and closed it before I heard his reply.
For a second, I thought he would get up from his bed and follow me but he didn’t. I went back to the kitchen and cleaned the glass he used. After that, I went back to the living room, eyeing my bag and coat. I wanted to go home but as I glanced down at my watch, it was almost midnight. It would be unreasonable for me to leave and he would be angry if I did.
I sat down on the couch where William lay down and took off my shoes and my white shirt. Thank God I choose to wear a white tank top underneath my blouse since the material was light. It helped cover my black bra.
In my gray slacks and white tank top, I laid down on the couch and got the blanket that William used, covering my whole body. In seconds I dr
ifted off to dreamland.
When I heard a soft rumbling sound, it didn’t register well and I continued to close my eyes. Then, when I heard a series of coughs, my eyes flew open in a sudden realization of where I was. In one swift move, I sat up on the couch and blinked a couple of times until my eyes landed at the sound where the coughing came from.
On the carpet below me was a sleeping William with the blanket all tangled up in his legs, his white shirt slightly raised up, revealing his well-toned stomach. I took a glimpse at his face, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly opened. I chuckled at the sound that was coming out of his mouth. For a second, I forgot that he was sick until he coughed again.
I frantically got up and kneeled down on his side. I softly nudged him and whispered for him to wake up. After two tries in which he ignored, I woke him up like last time. I slapped his forehead with a little force.
“Would you wake up? Why are you lying down on the floor? Your cold could worsen,” I hissed in annoyance.
Finally, his eyes fluttered open as he groaned again. “Do you really want to kill me that much?” he rasped as he blinked his eyes open.
“Why are you here on the floor?” I asked frantically as I grabbed his arm and helped him sit up.
“I was looking for you. I thought you left,” he admitted sadly as I rolled him on to the couch with a groan. “I think I hurt my back,” he lamented as he settled down.
“I wasn’t the one who stupidly slept on the floor,” I pointed out and placed my hand on his forehead and neck. “I think your fever went down a little,” I announced in relief.
“Can you make me chicken soup again?” he asked sleepily and sighed in contentment.
“Sure. I’ll get you some,” I responded softly as I pulled his blanket to his chest. I was glad I placed the extra soup in the fridge. I can reheat that and make something else for him. “Do you want anything else to eat?” I asked as made my way to the kitchen.
“Scrambled eggs and toast is good,” he replied, his voice low. “Thank you for staying,” he added in a more audible voice.