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It’s been a month since I last saw the Master. He didn't call nor ask for me since that day. Oliver or Madam Lennie never mentioned anything about him in front of me, except for his meal. Oliver agreed to take the Master’s food instead. He was still accommodating.
The Master’s quietness didn't make me stop wanting him. It only made me miss him too damn much. I thought I could do it, I thought I could live and work in the mansion unbothered, but each passing day, I hoped that somehow he would call me. I won't mind if it's with the shitty telephone again. I just wanted to hear his voice one more time. All I could do was stare at his painting in the living room.
I prepared steak and mushroom and cheese soup this time. Knowing that the Master was eating the food, I was cooking for him somehow made me think that we were still connected. I garnished the plate with steamed broccoli and poured a small amount of white sauce on the side. I even thought of making a heart shape on the plate, but I shook off the ridiculous thought away. I should stop thinking this way anymore, or I would end up hurting myself.
I remembered the sole purpose of why I was hired for this job in the first place. Aside from being a cook, the Master didn't ask for Annette's address up until now. I was still wondering why he still hadn't. How was he going to look for her when he couldn't even come out of his room?
A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. It was from Oliver.
“Hi,” he greeted with a smile.
“Oh, hi!” I smiled back. “You can bring this to the Master now,” I told him.
“It's Sunday today, you know,” he reminded me.
“Oh, is it?” I checked for my smartphone screen, and I checked the date, “Oh right, I didn't notice.”
He grinned, shaking his head, “It's okay. I could just tell him that I cooked that, but unfortunately, he will know the taste.”
“We could just um… eat it,” I bit my lower lip.
“You still owe me a weekend,” he suddenly said.
He chuckled softly. “I promised you a tour a month ago, didn’t I?”
“Oh, that.” I looked at him. “I totally forgot. You didn't ask me.”
He shrugged, then he folded his arms across his chest. “I was actually waiting for you to ask me.”
I laughed. “But it's already afternoon, so I think we can’t go around Manhattan today.”
“Why don't we just go out tonight? I know a
parted. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” He nodded and breamed. “Come on. It's going to be fun.”
“Where exactly do you plan on taking me?”
“Okay, this may sound so unlike me, but I'm going to take you to a club. You know… dancing, cocktails?”
I blinked, slightly surprised. “You do stuff like that?”
He grinned. “Of course. Why not?”
“Okay.” I exhaled a soft breath. “I'll go with you. I should probably get dressed now.”
“Sure. I'll wait for you at the gate.”
Oliver was leaning on a white Bugatti Veyron when I came out. He was looking different in his black leather jacket, ripped jeans, and topsider shoes. He seemed casually dressed this time, but he still managed to look expensive. It was the first time I'd seen him in different clothes besides his chef uniform.
I looked down at myself, and I was definitely looking plain. There was no sense of fashion in my outfit. I should’ve chosen something more appealing than a white shirt with a “you rock the dancefloor” print, a denim jacket, black jeans, and sneakers. Nonetheless, I remembered I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
“Hi,” I greeted, getting his attention. He was currently frowning on his smartphone.
Oliver looked up at me. “Oh, hey,” he greeted back with his signature boyish grin. He swiftly put away his phone, and then he attentively opened the door of the passenger side. ”Hop in,” he invited.
“Thanks!” I stepped into the car then he closed the door. Oliver then got into the driver seat. I jolted in surprise when I suddenly felt Oliver's arm brushed over my stomach.
“Relax! I’m just going to put your seatbelt on.” He chuckled, then buckled up my seatbelt. Afterward, he secured himself.
I laughed nervously. “Thank you.” I should probably get used by his gentleman gestures.