One Last Try

Chapter4

CHAPTER 4

Third person's pov

She couldn't take her eyes away from the mysterious man, her mind racing with questions. Who was he? What was he doing? And where did he disappear?

She felt an overwhelming urge to rely on someone———someone strong and capable of protecting her and unraveling the mystery.

But as she turned to seek comfort, she was reminded that her husband was nowhere to be found. With a spike of fear, she hastily opened her bedroom door and rushed to the living room.

Her movements stopped as her eyes met the sight of her husband coming into the house and shutting the door... Their eyes met each other.

He wore a black leather glove on one hand, hand, hand, with the other not wearing anything. A leather bag was slung over his shoulder. His calm conduct only seemed to heighten her unease.

“Where did you go?” she asked as her eyes narrowed on the leather bag as she took a step back.

“I went to get breakfast,” he replied, holding up the bag as if to prove his innocence. But his smile seemed forced, and his eyes darted away from hers.

“It's the middle of the night,” she pointed out, her heart still racing. “You could have waited till morning.” She added that to wait for him to at least say something convincing.

“It's already 5 a.m” he countered... It was not good enough to convince her, but he did better than least. “I have an early flight, and I didn't want to wake you.” He spoke, still trying to convince her.

She raised an eyebrow... She was still skeptical about him, so she said, “You would have mentioned it if we were out of food yesterday. We could have gone together.”

He shrugged his shoulders. He raised his gloved hand to rub the back of his neck. “I didn't think of it till I came to do something and realized we were out.”

Her eyes locked onto the glove and her mind raced with worst-case scenarios. “I don't know, Michael... You're acting strangely. Or am I the one who's being paranoid?”

“What's with the glove? She asked, her eyebrows raised, in curiosity.

“Oh, this?” he replied, holding up his gloved hand. “I, uh, burned my hand while cooking last night.” He gave a sheepish grin.

She narrowed her eyes, her gaze lingering on the glove. “Okay... Did you meet a man outside? There was this creepy guy lurking around not long ago. Did you run into him?”

He shook his head, his eyes darting away. “Nah, I think it was just our neighbor's gardener.” gardener.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

She sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “I’m probably just being paranoid. I need to stop watching so many movies.” She chuckled, rolling her eyes at herself.

He nodded in agreement, his expression reassuring. “Yeah, you're just spooked. Come on, since you're up, let's make breakfast before you and I head out.” He gestured towards the kitchen, his gloved hand gesturing invitingly.

As they walked towards the kitchen, she playfully nudged him. “You're right, I'm just being silly.” He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

After finishing breakfast preparations, Michael persuaded her to take a refreshing shower while he set the table. She couldn't refuse.

She came out of the room, looking radiant and ready for the day, in her shirt and skirt, which hung tight on her curvy body.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, as he admired her from her dark, long hair in a ponytail to her thin legs fitted nicely in her red heels.

She joined him at the table. “It smells delicious,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. They relished the flavors of their meal, savoring each bite, and enjoyed their time together.

They finished up;it was already 7 a.m. a.m., time for her to leave for work. She gathered her belongings, slung her bag over her shoulder, and headed out to the door. Michael smiled, watching her leave, feeling grateful for the lovely morning they shared.

Patricia sat on the edge of her office table, her legs crossed and her body calm, as she reviewed a file.

But as soon as Anna burst into the room, her calm tone changed to a worried one, wondering what message Anna had come to convey.

Anna rushed in, her eyes gulging out wide, her breathing was rapid, and her words tumbled out in a rush. “Mrs. Miller, Mr. Sanchez called this morning, asking for a meeting...this morning!” She emphasized the last words.

Patricia's eyes widened. She rose up from her seat and walked to Anna. “This morning? She repeated, her voice rising in surprise.

She took a step closer to Anna, her body already starting to move towards the meeting room. “We should prepare the meeting room now, before he arrives!” She urged Anna to hurry.

Anna quickly left the room, almost colliding with the doorframe in haste. Patricia followed close behind, her heels clicking on the floor as she hastened to keep up with Anna's quick pace.

Ana pushed the conference open, and they walked in. “Let's get everything set up quickly! We need to make a good impression.” She began straightening the chairs and aligning the pens and notepads with precision.

Meanwhile, Anna was already plugging in her laptop and connecting it to the projector; her fingers flew across the keyboard as she raced against the clock. “I'll get the presentation ready, Mrs. Miller, she called out, her voice trembling with nervousness.

Patricia gave her a reassuring nod, and her eyes scanned the room to ensure everything was in order. “Great, Anna. Let's make this a meeting to remember!” She smiled as she spoke, inspiring Anna.

Just as they finished setting up, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the meeting room. Patricia's eyes met Anna's, and they exchanged a brief, tense glance. “Showtime,” Patricia whispered.

Anna took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stood up straight, her eyes fixed on the door. Patricia, meanwhile, smoothed out her skirt and stood tall. She clasped her hands together in a confident gesture.

The door swung open, and Mr. Sanchez walked in. He was a tall, imposing figure with a strong jawline and piercing eyes that seemed to miss nothing. Patricia and Anna exchanged a brief smile, and then Patricia stepped forward, her hand extended in greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Sanchez. Thank you for coming in on such short notice.” Her voice was warm and professional, setting the tone for the meeting.

Mr. Sanchez shook her hand firmly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Good morning, Mrs. Miller. I appreciate your promptness. Let's get down to business, shall we?" Mr. Sanchez spoke.

“Forgive me for coming in late,” a male voice said as he walked in, and they all turned in the direction of the voice.