Page 136 of From Me to You

I entered the elevator and pressed the code on the lock pad for the penthouse. The top floor was entirely the penthouse and had a separate elevator.

The gold doors opened to a massive corridor that ended in a huge wooden double door that led to the apartment. I pressed the same code again, and the door slightly creaked open.

“Hello,” I called out as I opened the door slightly and entered the foyer. It looked like no one was there. Great.

I let myself in and closed the door behind me. I sighed as I took in the view in front of me. I loved this apartment. It was so beautiful, and not an ounce of white was used, which made me love it even more.

The foyer had a polished wooden table in the center with an elaborate arrangement of flowers that was dead. Behind it was the breathtaking view of Central Park. I loved it.

The main area was toward the left, a corridor that led to the most beautiful part of the apartment. The living room and the open kitchen.

The entire left side was a fully equipped kitchen with gleaming gray countertops and walnut-colored cabinets. A full breakfast table was attached to the kitchen counter.

But the massive L-shaped glass windows were the beauty of this apartment– they continued throughout the entire room except for the side of the kitchen that opened to the terrace. There was even a separate dining room and a small informal dining table toward the corner.

Soft plush leather couches sat opposite the kitchen, facing the glass windows that gave the view of the Manhattan skyline.

I shook out my musings and headed to the kitchen. There were a bunch of papers with all the instructions that Aimee had given me.

Aimee was the assistant of the new tenant of the penthouse. The previous owners were always in their main residence in the Hamptons, so I took the liberty to enjoy this place. But they had sold it to someone new. Aimee contacted me last week and asked if I could continue the services. Only I had to cook for the first month before the actual cook came back from their break and I had to come in every day. I used to work here only twice a week just to keep the place clean but when I saw the numbers for the paycheck that Aimee offered me, I moved around all my other clients. With that money, I didn’t have to go to work anywhere else.

I frowned at the instructions on the paper. There were so many and so detailed.

There was even a meal plan for the entire week. Did they think I was some kinda professional chef? For Mondays, the client wanted egg white-only omelets, no vegetables, no oil with fresh fruits, double-shot expresso, and only single-origin Columbian brew, and that was only for breakfast.

The laundry needed to be washed twice with a specific detergent and even a specific temperature setting. And there were so many other stupid instructions about everything else.

God, I hoped it wasn’t some socialite or a millionaire’s daughter—they were the worst. Always complaining about something. I sighed. Who was I to moan about it given my situation? I might as well get started with breakfast.

About ten minutes later, I set the plate up on the counter and put a lid on top. I might have added a bit of oil to the eggs, because how were you supposed to cook eggs without oil?

I planned to first get the dead flowers out of the foyer. They looked sad. The previous owners always had fresh flowers delivered every week even though they were never here. The last time I came here they were still fresh and that was a couple of weeks ago.

I walked out to the foyer and tried to pull out the elaborate flowers from the vase. God, there were so many and so tall that I couldn’t reach them all. I tried to move the vase, but it was so heavy. It was a solid marble piece.

I leaped to get some leverage, but a sudden cramp in my knee made me hold onto the vase. And that was a very bad idea because I fell along with the vase. A loud thud sounded as it hit the floor. I crawled to see the damage. Thankfully, nothing happened to the vase or me. But the dirty water was flowing everywhere. I sighed. I had to clean that up now.

“The fuck.” A loud, sleepy voice cut through the room, followed by heavy footsteps. A voice that sent shivers down my spine.

A pair of bare feet landed in my vision. Somehow, that person’s presence electrified every cell in my body. It was so familiar.

I swallowed as my gaze trailed along a pair of black drawstring pants and a torso inked with so many tattoos, just like the ones I had seen in the pictures, and my heart fell to the floor. It pounded so fast that I didn’t know how I was breathing.

My eyes widened as I locked them into a pair of beautiful blues that I dreamed of every night. The blues that were currently narrowed to tiny slits as they peered at me with such coldness that made my mouth dry.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked in a lethal voice, his jaw clenching so hard.

And I had to be on my knees when I saw the love of my life again after nearly six years. Please dig a hole for me so I can hide under it. Never in a million years had I thought I would meet him here in New York City. On my knees. On the floor. As his maid.

“Jay,” I whispered as the shock settled over me.

My mind flashed to an image of the red thread of fate—it said that regardless of what you endured in your life, the two bound souls were always meant to come back to each other. That it was destiny. And I was fucked.

To be continued…

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