Crossed Paths

Birthed in a family that is known for power, fame, and its financial capabilities in all ramifications of life. The feeling that comes with the thoughts of desiring a thing and getting it, with just the snap of a finger. That feeling when you walk into a gathering of men and those "men" suddenly become boys on the arrival of your presence. Top magazines are always willing to do anything, just anything, to get you on their cover. Top TV stations and blogs around the globe have their eyes on you; like you wake up every morning to top headlines continuously. It goes on and on. You might think it's a great feeling, don't you? Yeah, I thought so too… My name is Robert Henry Johnson, 3rd child from the family of "THE HENRY JOHNSON" the multi-billion-dollar empire. My life has been on a roller-coaster, where and however it rolls, I oblige without trying to question where, how, and why. For the past 28 years of my life, I mean my life, has been lived based on how I'm instructed to live it. Under human surveillance, my parents precisely. I am being constantly monitored, followed by some people I don't even know. People hired by my parents as some sort of protection or whatever. “For how long will these last?” I question myself, anytime I glance at them stylishly, fully aware of their presence, including at my workspace. I got back from the office, tired and stressed out from the series of meetings I had to attend. Exhausted, I sluggishly dragged myself up the stairs to my room. Threw myself on my king-sized bed, and that was it for the night. As I lay, feeling glued to my bed, a gentle interruption brought me back to consciousness. I sluggishly rubbed my eyes like a 5-year-old who has been woken up from a magical dream land. I was woken up by a faint knock at the door. “Who could it be…” I groan, before letting the words out. "Who's it!?" "Sir, it's Catherine." Immediately I heard the soothing voice enunciating from behind my door, I swung up from my bed with great speed. I couldn't contain the excitement as I let out a bright smile. “Co…” I was almost letting out the words, when I instantly remembered my room was a complete mess from last night. I quickly turned my head like a clock going anticlockwise, my eyes bulging out of their sockets as I viewed the state of my room. My shoes had been left lying in opposite directions. My God! My shirt, trousers, socks. “No, no, man, you can't allow this to happen” I whispered to myself. I moved as fast as I could and picked up the embarrassing pieces of me lying littered. “What am I supposed to do?” I stood, frozen! “Okay, okay” I nodded, smiling to myself with the solution my thoughts provided. I hastily gathered my clothes, stuffed them in the closet, picked up my shoes and socks, and threw them in the bathroom. “A man on a mission must leave no stone unturned” I thought to myself, smiling sheepishly. Feeling myself and dusting my shoulder pads, I turned to take a look at my handiwork. Seconds later. “Yes! A bit cleared” I nodded, beaming graciously. “There's just no way I'm allowing Catherine to see me like this, anyone but Catherine” I whispered, trying to catch my breath. I tiptoed over and quietly threw myself back to my bed like I hadn't been up. "Ca, Catherine” I stuttered. “Oh Boy, what is wrong with you, can you calm down?” I was talking to myself, forgetting Catherine was still standing outside my door. Ahem, I coughed silently. “Please come in." Over the past few weeks, Catherine has been the source of my excitement. Her composure and poise are just breathtaking. She is my favorite amongst the entire staff working in our house. It sounds really crazy, but I look forward to her interaction with me every single day. Her mum used to work for us as a chef, but she has been feeling unwell. So Catherine had to come replace her, pending when she'll be fit and fully recovered to resume duties. I could remember the first time I was introduced to Catherine; I was swept away by her charms. She looked so beautiful and calm, wearing the cutest smile I have ever seen. "Good morning, sir, sir, your..." she walked, looking all ravishing as usual. I couldn't help but stare at her pretty face, before a certain word pulled me back to reality. "Catherine, really now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "How many times do I have to remind you that my name is Robert? It's just Robert, not 'sir' or any other titles you use to address me." I smiled. "I'm sorry, sir...I mean, Robert, sir..." she replied, trying to break free from the eye contact I maintained. "Sir, again?" I asked, amused. "But, sir, I cannot possibly address you by your name; you're..." she attempted to defend her stance. "I am what? Oh, I remember - the son of Sir Henry Johnson, business tycoon, oil magnate, best friend to the president, and friend to ministers." I paused, gazing into her beautiful eyes. "Come on, Catherine, I can go on, but all those things are my father's, not mine. Why not save the formalities for him and keep it simple with me? Can you do that?" I smiled, showing my teeth. "I work for you, sir, and I think it's disrespectful to address you by your name..." she tried to convince me, unaware of her captivating charms. "Shh, address me only as Robert; are we good at that?" "Alright, Mr. Robert." "What! Are you crazy...Mr. Robert? How?" I couldn't hold back my laughter.