Mr. Brockwell

CHAPTER EIGHT

*Calista*

Mr. Brockwell pulls up in front of an iron gate, rolling down his window to speak to the man at the booth. The man had pure white hair, it was clean cut but with a handlebar mustache. He smiled widely, waving and automatically opening the gate. Mr. Brockwell waves to the man and drives through the open gate.

We drove along a cobblestone road. Bright green grass on either side, surrounded with trees and shrubbery. As we got closer to the house, I realized it was a freaking mansion! The road wrapped around in a circle and he parked right in front of the entrance. The house had tan trimming and river rock foundation, with a bright red double door entrance. He shut off the engine and came around to my side, opening the door for me and helping me out of the car.

The front door to his house opened and a man dressed like a butler came shuffling outside, instantly opening the trunk of the car and retrieving my luggage. Meanwhile, Mr. Brockwell helped me walk inside. We walked through the doors and into a warm large house, with lots of open space. The entrance opened up on either side, leading to other rooms, and straight ahead was a staircase. The butler took my luggage upstairs and disappeared beyond my sight, while Mr. Brockwell guided me left and into a dimly lit room.

Brown leather couches lined the wall, across from a fireplace that was already lit and warming up the room. There was a large bookcase next to the fireplace, containing a wide variety of books. There was a study nearby, but Mr. Brockwell didn't bother to show me inside.

Instead, he led me back through the entrance and into a dining room, adjacent to a massive kitchen. The dining room had a long rectangular polished wood table, with at least sixteen seats. There was a china cabinet in the room as well, but that's about it. The kitchen had employees running it, so it was the size of an industrial kitchen. It had top of the line chrome equipment that shimmered under the light.

"I have cooks that make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but feel free to help yourself to any snacks." Mr. Brockwell stated, leading me out of the kitchen.

"Wow," I whispered and gawked at my surroundings, "Your house is..."

"Yeah..." Mr. Brockwell almost appeared to be blushing, "My parents left a small fortune behind."

"You live here all alone?" I asked, shocked, because that would make me feel lonely.

"Yes, aside from the servants.." he answered and cleared his throat, "I'll show you your room. It's a big house, so you'll have an entire wing to yourself. It's the same for myself and the servants. I only have two, aside from the cooks. That's Ida and Walter. You already saw Walter, but I still need to introduce you to them."

"Who's Ida?" I asked, as we rounded a corner to a hallway.

"She's my maid." He responded and stopped in front of a door.

Mr. Brockwell pulled out a key ring from the pocket of his pants, full of different keys. As he shuffled through them, he finally found the one he was looking for and inserted it into the door, unlocking it. He opened the door and turned the light switch on, revealing the gorgeous bedroom. The bedframe was dark wood, like the floors, and had a plush white comforter on the top with matching white sheets. There's a wardrobe across from the bed. Next to it is a flat screen TV that's mounted on the wall. It has a closet, and it has its own personal bathroom.

Speechless, I turned to Mr. Brockwell, my jaw dropped and he chuckled. I left his grasp and entered the room, admiring all of its details. He stood there in the doorframe and watched my amazement. Sitting on the bed, I press my palms into the bedding and run them over the soft material. Smiling, I glanced back at Mr. Brockwell and found him staring back at me.

"Do you like it?" He asked, taking a few steps closer.

"Is that even a question? How could I not!" I shrieked, feeling my smile widen.

"Glad to hear," Mr. Brockwell chuckled lightly and someone else entered the room, "Ah, perfect timing. Calista, this is Ida, my maid."

"Nice to meet you, darlin'." Ida said, holding her wrinkled hand out to shake mine.

"Nice to meet you as well, Ida." I smiled and shook her hand, feeling her strong grip.

"If you need anythin', don't hesitate to holler." Ida replied with a thick Irish accent.

"Thank you." I smiled and nodded.

"Lunch will be served in about an hour, sir." Ida announced, and immediately left the room.

"I've asked Ida to help you put your things away because of your injuries, so take your time to get settled in and relax. I'll come get you for lunch in an hour. I just have a few things to wrap up with work first." Mr. Brockwell said, backing up towards the door.

"Alright, thanks again, Mr. Brockwell." I replied, kicking my shoes off and lying back against the pillows on the bed.

"Oh and," he turned and gave a coy grin, "at home you can call me Adrian. I'm not your boss here, Calista."

Mr. Brockwell left the room before I could respond, which is in my favor because I was dumbfounded. Completely at a loss for words, because me calling him by his first name meant we were on a personal level. The thought of all of this happening has got my mind spiraling out of control. All I can do is close my eyes and try not to panic, think things through as best as I can.

I'm currently living with my boss, Adrian Brockwell, who is a total hottie... but also a little older than me. If I broke up with Ivan, would I then feel the desire to pursue Adrian? Even calling him by his first name in my brain is enthralling, but deep down I know I shouldn't even think about that. It's unprofessional and I don't think Mr. Brockwell had acted in an unprofessional manner at any point in his life. The man seems very well put together, so to speak.

I guess I don't know what I'm doing, but Mr. Brockwell was right about one thing: I had to get away from Ivan. Though I was afraid to leave Ivan, I understand what Mr. Brockwell was talking about earlier, when he said things would always get worse. He was right and I am lucky that I lived to talk about it, but I never want to go back. I never want to be in that situation again, trapped by an abusive boyfriend.

Lunch came around quickly and Mr- I mean, Adrian, came to escort me to the dining area. He also had to help me, because I couldn't see where I was walking when I was wearing this stupid neck brace. I won't lie, I liked having his hand around my whist, guiding me down the stairs and into my seat. It keeps a permanent smile plastered on my face.

Walter serves us lunch and several beverages to choose from. It's the fanciest treatment I've ever received. I felt like a queen of sorts, because I didn't have to lift a finger. I don't know how to feel about it, because I've never experienced this before. Adrian is always extremely thankful, which strikes me as odd, considering he's grown up in this lavish lifestyle.

"Walter, this is Calista, she'll be staying with us for a little while." Adrian said, sipping his tea.

"Very good, sir. It's a pleasure, Miss. Calista." Walter bows towards me, smiling, and I can't help but blush.

"Nice to meet you, Walter." I smiled and nodded, as Walter left the room.

I could barely see the food on my plate with this stupid neck brace on, but I at least knew it was a club sandwich. What I didn't know was, there was a side of potato salad, and I unknowingly stuck my hand right in it. I was intending on grabbing the sandwich, when I felt my fingers plunge into the cold thick texture of the potato salad. A small yelp escaped my lips and Adrian looked up immediately. Soon after, he burst into fits of laughter.

"Here," Adrian said and walked over to help take the neck brace off, "You can at least eat without this, I'm sure."

"Thanks.." I muttered, mortified.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, I looked down to find Adrian wiping off my potato salad-covered hand with a napkin. His touch was incredibly gentle and captivating, as I stared down and watched his hands in motion. Once my hand was clean, he set the napkin on the table and smiled at me, before taking his seat again at the end of the table.

We finished lunch and I replaced the stupid neckbrace. It caused me to rely on Adrian for almost everything. I couldn't even walk around the house by myself. However, he was all too willing to help me. Every time he wrapped his arm around my waist to help stabilize me, it felt so normal. What I mean by normal is, like we were used to this. Somewhere deep inside my heart, I'm familiar with his touch and I welcome it every time.

I don't believe in past lives or anything, but if I did, I'd swear that Adrian was a former lover. It's weird, because he acts like he feels the same way. He'll act like we're close, more than just boss and assistant, but then sometimes he returns to his cold stoic facade. I don't understand him, but I'm willing to try and figure him out.

"I have to return to work for a while. Ida is going to keep an eye on you while I'm gone. I'll be back around five." Adrian noted, helping me sit back on the edge of my bed.

"Alright.." I muttered, thinking about work and how I looked brought an ugly feeling to my chest.

"Don't worry, I've already excused you for the week." Adrian said with a soft grin, turning to the door.

"The whole week?" I asked in shock.

"Yes," he chuckled, "I thought you would want to heal in peace, without anyone knowing about your injuries."

"Thank you, Adrian." I said, feeling a large grin form across my lips.

I was grateful not to receive that kind of attention at work. I didn't want to have to explain myself to the entire building and I know people couldn't help themselves. Adrian left with a handsome grin and my heart released the wave of wild butterflies into my stomach. Meanwhile, my mouth is fighting off a vicious smile that's starting to form.

What is this that I'm feeling towards my boss? It feels a lot like... no... couldn't be. We barely know each other... but my heart has never felt this way before. It feels like it's beaming with a brightness that could overpower the sun. I take a deep breath and smile to myself. I love the feeling but I know damn well this is only going to lead to heartbreak. Do not fall for your millionaire boss, Calista! He could have any woman he wanted, he definitely wouldn't settle for little old me.