The First Impression
824 Words
Clara quickly learned that working for Anthony Kingsley was unlike any job she had ever had.
He didn't shout.
He didn't insult her.
He didn't treat her badly.
But somehow, his silence was more intimidating than anger.
Every morning, Anthony followed the same routine.
Wake up early.
Read business reports.
Drink black coffee.
Leave for Kingsley Group.
Return late at night.
Repeat.
His entire life seemed controlled by schedules and responsibilities.
There was no room for mistakes.
And apparently...
No room for emotions.
Three days passed since Clara moved into the villa.
She had slowly adjusted to the environment.
Mrs. Brooks helped her understand Anthony's habits.
George handled the household arrangements.
Lily, another maid at the villa, became the first person Clara felt comfortable talking to.
"You really aren't afraid of him?"
Lily asked while they organized the kitchen.
Clara looked confused.
"Mr. Kingsley?"
"Who else?"
Lily lowered her voice.
"Most new employees don't last more than a month."
"Why?"
"Because they can't handle him."
Clara smiled slightly.
"He hasn't done anything wrong to me."
Lily looked surprised.
"Really?"
"No."
"That's because you're different."
Clara laughed softly.
"I don't think so."
"You are."
Lily looked at her seriously.
"You don't treat him like a billionaire."
Clara paused.
"He's still a person."
Those simple words made Lily smile.
"Maybe that's why Mrs. Brooks chose you."
That afternoon, Clara received a call from the hospital.
Her smile disappeared the moment she answered.
"Hello?"
"Miss Evans, your mother's condition has improved slightly."
Clara released a breath of relief.
"Really?"
"Yes. The new medication seems to be helping."
Tears filled her eyes.
"Thank you."
"But she still needs continued treatment."
The relief faded slightly.
"I understand."
After ending the call, Clara leaned against the kitchen counter.
For a moment, she allowed herself to feel exhausted.
She had to stay strong.
She didn't have another choice.
Anthony arrived home earlier than usual that evening.
The moment he entered the villa, he noticed something unusual.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Usually, the staff would have completed their work and returned to their rooms.
But today, something felt different.
"George."
The butler appeared immediately.
"Yes, sir?"
"Where is everyone?"
"Mrs. Brooks and Lily are helping in the storage room."
"And Clara?"
George hesitated.
"Miss Evans is in the kitchen."
Anthony frowned slightly.
The kitchen?
He walked toward it.
Clara stood alone, carefully preparing dinner.
She didn't notice him at first.
Until his voice came.
"What are you doing?"
She turned quickly.
"Mr. Kingsley."
Anthony glanced at the table.
There were several containers arranged neatly.
"What are those?"
"Food."
"I can see that."
Clara looked slightly confused.
"Then..."
"Why are there extra portions?"
She looked down.
"I was preparing some food for my family."
Anthony's expression remained unreadable.
"You are supposed to work here."
"I know."
"Then why are you using your personal time?"
Clara hesitated.
"Because my brother has been staying at the hospital with my mother."
Anthony said nothing.
"He doesn't always remember to eat when he's worried."
For some reason, that answer caught his attention.
She wasn't doing it because she had to.
She was doing it because she cared.
Anthony looked at the containers.
"You should rest when you're not working."
Clara gave a small smile.
"I will."
He knew immediately she was lying.
But he didn't comment.
At dinner, Anthony noticed something.
The meal wasn't complicated.
It wasn't prepared like the expensive dishes served at business events.
It was simple.
But it was good.
"You made this?"
Clara looked up.
"Yes."
"Where did you learn?"
"My father taught me."
Anthony became quiet.
"Your father?"
"He was a good cook."
A small smile appeared on Clara's face.
"He said food always tasted better when it was made with care."
Anthony looked at his plate.
He couldn't remember the last time someone had cooked for him because they cared.
Not because they wanted something.
Not because of his money.
Just because.
Later that night, Anthony sat in his office.
The report in front of him remained unread.
His mind kept returning to one person.
Clara Evans.
He didn't understand why he noticed her.
Why he remembered small details about her.
Why her tired expression bothered him.
She was only his employee.
Nothing more.
That was what he told himself.
Meanwhile, Clara sat beside her mother's hospital bed, holding her hand.
"Mom..."
Mary slowly opened her eyes.
"Clara?"
Clara immediately smiled.
"You're awake."
Her mother's weak smile appeared.
"Are you taking care of yourself?"
Clara looked away.
"Of course."
Mary knew her daughter too well.
"You always say that."
Clara held her mother's hand tighter.
"I'll be okay."
And for the first time in days...
She believed it.
Two people.
Two completely different worlds.
One billionaire who had forgotten what warmth felt like.
One woman who gave warmth without expecting anything.
Neither of them knew it yet...
But their lives were already beginning to change.
End of Chapter 6
- Writer
