I kept walking, going inside the car as his driver moved to the trunk and started extracting my boxes.
As I approached the door, Thomas opened it for me with his plastered-on smile.
"Thomas, how are you?" I greeted him.
"I'm okay, miss," he replied. "Are those your stuff? Should I help you with them?"
"Yeah, maybe you should help me with them. I really have no idea where to put them."
"What are they? I'm sorry if I may ask. Do you want me to put them in your room, or do you have somewhere specific you want me to put them?"
"I don’t know. They’re stuff from work, but I don’t think they’re important enough that I need to hide them in my room. But I also don’t know where you’re going to put them."
"Don’t worry about that, miss. I’ll have it taken care of," he assured me with a smile a
