I wake in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, and I sit up, looking around at my surroundings. “Tyson,” I call out his name and hear nothing in reply but the echo of my own voice.
His sheets are all black and silk, not the cheap imitation kind but the real deal and they caress my skin. His comforter is also all black. In fact, his room didn’t have much color, making me think he moonlights as a vampire. God knows he’s hot enough, as well as the seductive vibes he gives off naturally. His room gives off a minimalist vibe, spacious with the furnishings placed in just the right places. Works of expensive abstract art hang on the heather grey walls, one of the few pieces of bright color he has in his room. Even the bed I’m lying in is a dark burnt wood as well as the dresser, the side table next to the bed, and the armoire in the corner of the room.
Getting up, I walk over to his dresser and run my finger across the dark wood, not surprised to see it’s polished to perfection. Sitting on top and placed in the exact middle, as if someone measured the distance, is a glass case holding all Tyson’s expensive watches I’ve noticed him wear to work, all worth a small fortune. His armoire must be just for show because when I open it, there’s nothing inside. The same goes for the side table next to the bed, except for the remote laying on top.
“Evening, miss. I hope you slept well,” a woman’s voice says from behind me. Jumping a mile high, I hold my hand to my heart startled.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says, rushing over. “Usually it’s just me in this big place. I’m Vinny, Mr. Garfield’s housekeeper.”
The woman is pretty, probably in her mid-forties with graying dark brown hair, which she has pulled back in a neat ponytail. She’s not wearing a uniform per say, just dark slacks with an apron tied around her waist and a white cotton shirt buttoned up all the way to the top. I don’t know why but I pictured Tyson’s housekeeper would be a young blonde wearing one of those black with white lace trim skimpy maids uniforms, like you see in pornos to go with his playboy flare. I wasn’t expecting someone so vanilla. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she apologizes again, looking me over with worried eyes, probably because I still haven’t said anything to her and am just staring, wide-eyed at the poor woman.
When I finally get my shit together, finding my voice, I reply, “It’s not your fault. I thought I was the only one here. When I called out, no one answered,” I explained sheepishly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. This place is quite big and we usually use the intercom to communicate,” she says, pointing at a panel on the wall I missed. “You have been sleeping for quite a while, and I came to see if you were up yet and wanted something to eat. It took me a while to get up all the stairs,” she explains and I look down noticing the boot on her foot.
“Oh my god, what happened?” I ask.
“Oh nothing too exciting, just me being clumsy,” she chuckles. "I tripped over my dog coming home from work a couple weeks ago.” Her smile is bright and I find myself at ease, chuckling with her as she explains how excited her dog gets when she comes home. Waking up in Tyson’s room, I felt intimidated by his wealth, which is silly since that’s all I’ve been around lately, but Vinny’s aura is a welcomed sight. Figures I feel more at home with the help.
“He must have been very happy to see you. Is he a big dog?”
“Yes, a big golden retriever, which makes me think I need to get my eyes checked,” she answers, chuckling.
“How long have I been asleep?” I ask, curious.
“A little over five hours. Mr. Garfield was the one to carry you inside and put you in his room and then told me to stay with you until he gets back home. Usually, I just clean up and leave, then come back to make dinner, but he didn’t want you waking up alone in a strange place.”
“I guess he can be sweet,” I muse. I’m surprised he knew that waking up here alone would be daunting for me or intune to any woman's feelings except what they can do for his dick.
“He really is and a great employer. I can’t even begin to tell you the horror stories of the other people I worked for.”
“I can imagine,” I mutter absentmindedly, not expecting a response. She doesn’t give me one, instead she leads me out of the room and gives me a quick tour.
Tyson’s building is located in Upper Manhattan. Like the townhouse the Hastings gifted me, it was set up by floors, just three instead of two with a huge patio on the top floor that had a fabulous million dollar view of the busy city around us. Each room has touches of Tyson everywhere, and I am surprised to get a settled in vibe instead of the museum one you get from most rich people's homes. You know, the ones where you’re scared to touch anything just in case you break something.
“How long have you been working for Tyson?” I ask once we get to the kitchen.
“A little over three years. I have to admit, you are the first woman he’s ever brought here,” she admits blushing.
“That can’t be true, not with his rep,” I reply, frowning.
“Oh, I know Mr. Garfield is no saint. I’ve read the tabloids, but he’s never brought any of those women here to his home. I was surprised to see him carry you through the door and even more surprised when he said you’d be staying here.”
“He surprised me with the offer too,” I admit wondering when the hell did I get so chatty and to a stranger no less.
Vinny walks over to the warmer and pulls a plate out filled with food before setting it in front of me. “You should eat. Mr. Garfield called to say he has to work late and won’t be back for a while.” Nodding, I dig in and hum in appreciation when I take a bite of the roasted chicken. It is moist and cooked to perfection.
“God, this tastes so good. Even better than the restaurants,” I compliment her, taking another huge bite.
“Thanks for the compliment. I’m rarely here when Mr. Garfield finally settles down enough to eat. He’s such a busy man.”
“I guess so,” I hum, trying to read Vinny. She’s very protective of Tyson, that’s for sure, and I guess she was feeling some kind of way of me being here. If what she said is true, then Tyson has never been serious enough about anyone to bring them home and she’s making sure I’m not here to use or hurt him. Doesn’t she know he’s the one who will likely hurt me? I’m taking a huge leap of faith by being here.
After I eat, Vinny cleans up silently and I decide to get out of her hair. Wandering around Tyson’s home, I find his study where he keeps all his law books and a pang of something, I don’t know what, overcomes me. I can’t help thinking about Tyson’s father and how happy it made him to take me under his wing and teach me law. I hate that I disappointed him and won’t be seeing him in the office again. I guess that bitch Nancy will get my job.
Pulling one of the books free, I take a seat on the lounge near the window, deciding to get some reading in. I don’t know why, but I liked learning about law, it interests me, and I don’t want the classes to stop just because I lost my teacher.
I don’t know when I drifted off and fell asleep, but I’m woken with a soft kiss on my lips and Tyson’s thumb rubbing across the side of my face gently.