A place in His Routine
1209 Words
The knife remained suspended in Evangeline's hand above the chopping board while Kylian stood motionless near the front door, his fingers still resting against the pocket where he had slipped his phone. For a brief moment, neither of them looked away.
Then, Evangeline lowered her eyes, turned back to the chopping board, and resumed cutting the vegetables carefully. "I should finish preparing lunch, sir."
Kylian watched her for a second before walking back into the kitchen instead of leaving. The sound of his footsteps drew closer, and Evangeline kept her attention fixed stubbornly on the carrots beneath her knife as he came to a stop nearby.
"What are you making?" he asked.
She swallowed hard, not looking up. "Vegetable broth... and grilled chicken."
"For lunch?"
"Yes, sir."
He glanced into the pot simmering gently on the stove before looking back at her. "Good."
Evangeline expected him to leave, but instead, he remained standing beside the marble island. Unable to ignore his towering presence any longer, she finally looked up. "Is there anything else you need, sir?"
"There is." He replied calmly. "Beginning tomorrow, you'll bring my lunch to my office every afternoon."
Her hand stopped midway through placing another sliced carrot into the pot. "Me, sir?"
"Yes."
She frowned. "Wouldn't it be easier for the driver to deliver it?"
"It would." He slipped one hand into his trouser pocket, his expression entirely unreadable. "But that's not what I instructed."
She hesitated. "I only meant..."
"I know what you meant. I've spent months skipping lunch or eating whatever is closest to the office." His gaze drifted briefly toward the breakfast dishes she had already washed. "That ends now. You'll arrive by one every afternoon."
"And if you're in a meeting?"
"I'll see you when the meeting ends," there wasn't a trace of hesitation in his voice as he looked down at her. "You'll wait."
She nodded slowly, recognizing the boundary had been firmly set. "Yes, sir."
Only then did Kylian pick up his car keys from the counter. Without another word, he walked toward the front door, and a moment later, the apartment echoed with the loud sound of the door closing behind him.
Later that morning, the apartment door opened and Mrs. Gable stepped inside, carrying her handbag over one arm. She paused in the foyer to remove her coat before making her way toward the kitchen, the familiar, comforting smell of simmering broth greeting her long before she reached the doorway.
"I hope the place is still standing," she called out.
Evangeline looked up from the chopping board, "Good morning, Mrs. Gable."
"Good morning, dear." Mrs. Gable stepped into the kitchen, setting her handbag on one of the bar stools. Her eyes instinctively swept across the room, inspecting the spotless countertops, and neatly stacked dishes. "I see you managed everything just fine."
"I tried my best."
"I can tell." As Evangeline walked around the island to pour her a glass of water, Mrs. Gable's gaze lingered on her, noticing something looked different. Her eyes slowly travelled from Evangeline's neatly pinned hair down to the fitted dress beneath the white apron. She blinked, halting mid-stride. "Well..."
Evangeline stopped, looking down at herself self-consciously. "...Is something wrong?"
Mrs. Gable smiled faintly as she stepped closer, lightly brushing her fingers over the fine sleeve of the uniform. "This isn't one of the standard staff uniforms."
"No?"
"It looks brand new."
"Mr. Moreno had it delivered yesterday," Evangeline explained quietly. "He said he didn't want me walking around the house in my old work dress anymore."
Mrs. Gable remained quiet for a moment, taking in the flawless stitching and the quality of the fabric. Having managed the household for years, she knew exactly where Mr. Moreno ordered his wardrobe, and this certainly hadn't come from an ordinary department store. "It suits you," she said eventually, offering a warm, reassuring smile.
Evangeline lowered her eyes, smoothing the front of the apron. "I wasn't sure about it at first."
"Why?"
"It..." She hesitated before admitting softly, "It fits much better than anything I've ever owned."
Mrs. Gable chuckled softly. "That's because it was custom made."
Evangeline looked up in utter surprise. "Custom made?"
"It certainly wasn't bought off a rack, dear." Mrs. Gable nodded, studying her for another moment before her gaze settled gently on the fading bruise beneath Evangeline's eye. "How's your cheek?"
"It's much better. The swelling has almost gone."
"I'm glad."
There was a brief silence as Evangeline turned back to the counter, but then she remembered his instructions from earlier that morning. "Oh... Mr. Moreno also gave me new instructions this morning. He said he wants me to bring his lunch to the office every afternoon."
Mrs. Gable frowned. "To the office?"
"Yes. He said the Doctor doesn't want him skipping meals anymore."
Mrs. Gable nodded slowly, "Well... I suppose that makes sense."
But even as she uttered the words, something about the arrangement felt entirely unusual. In all the years she had worked for Kylian Moreno, she had watched him ignore breakfast, forget lunch, and survive entire grueling workdays on black coffee alone.
He had never once asked for someone to bring him a meal, not once. She glanced at Evangeline, who had already returned to stirring the broth, completely unaware that anything about the request seemed out of the ordinary. Mrs. Gable said nothing; for now, she simply watched.
The sharp buzz of the intercom suddenly broke the silence in the kitchen. Evangeline looked up from the chopping board, where she had resumed slicing vegetables. Across the kitchen, Mrs. Gable paused from the pantry shelves she was reorganizing and frowned.
"That's strange," the older woman muttered, wiping her hands on her apron before walking over to the wall speaker and pressing the button. "Yes?"
"Delivery for the penthouse, ma'am," the security guard's voice crackled through the intercom. "Several packages."
Mrs. Gable glanced back toward the island. "Are you expecting anything, Evangeline?"
Evangeline shook her head quickly. "No, ma'am."
Mrs. Gable pressed the button again. "Send them up."
A minute later, the elevator doors slid open and a man stepped out into the foyer carrying several large black shopping bags with silver ribbon handles. They looked expensive enough to belong in one of Manhattan's exclusive luxury boutiques rather than a standard residential delivery.
The courier stopped directly in front of the kitchen, adjusting his grip on the packages. "Delivery for Miss Evangeline."
Evangeline looked up from her work, blinking in utter confusion. "I'm sorry?"
The courier glanced down at the electronic tablet in his hand before reading the digital invoice aloud, repeating her full name perfectly. "I'll need your signature here, please."
Evangeline stared at the bags, her heart skipping a beat. "There must be some mistake. I didn't buy anything."
The courier frowned slightly, shook his head, and turned the tablet around so she could read the order details for herself. "There isn't a mistake, miss."
Mrs. Gable stepped closer to the island, intense curiosity flickering across her face. Evangeline's eyes slowly dropped to the bright text on the screen, searching for the billing information.
Her breath caught.
Printed beneath sender was a name she had never expected to see.
She stared at it, unable to look away.
- Writer
