Lana
I couldn’t believe he said yes.
Going along with the impulse of having the courage to ask him, I still struggled to wrap my mind around the fact that he agreed to it.
Even after collecting my feather duster and a dry cloth, I waited excitedly for him to leave his office and let me inside.
Standing right outside of the large vault-like door, I waited for him to come punch in his code before letting me inside.
Three weeks into working under Mr. Pratt now, and I had to admit, he wasn’t as bad as I thought he was. While he might have held some anger and annoyance with his work, he never really pointed any of that toward me.
I couldn’t tell if he held a soft spot for me or if he literally just didn’t want to put in extra effort dealing with me. Either way, I didn’t mind him so much.
Now he was going to let me in his super secret room. The one I had made myself forget about each time I thought about asking him to let me look inside.
Only once had I seen him let someone put something inside that room. Funny enough, it was a large painting that I knew well enough that went for one million minimum. While I couldn’t tell the guy not to blow his money on certain pieces, that didn’t stop me from wanting to see each artwork up close.
When I caught a glance of Mr. Pratt coming my way, my heart picked up speed. For some reason, a part of me expected him to change his mind at the last minute. Instead, he came and pressed ten digits into his keypad.
With such security for a single room alone, I could only dream about what he had inside.
Clutching the feather duster in my hand, I noticed the way he looked behind his shoulder over at me for a brisk second before letting himself inside.
Keeping close behind him, he flipped on a light in the door shut behind us. At that moment, I finally got the chance to look around.
Goosebumps covered my skin, and I wasn’t sure if I could blame the cool air. With the lack of natural sunlight, the room was lit up by the lights above alone. It kind of felt like I was walking around a miniature museum.
How could one man alone own so much treasure? Half of this stuff, I couldn’t have even dreamed of seeing up close.
It wasn’t just paintings inside of the room. As I walked around and swiped my feather duster across each wooden surface, I took in the different statues and vases resting on their own pedestals.
Looking behind my shoulder, I noticed he was watching me. His back was pressed against the wall right next to the door and he just stood there staring. Did he intend on watching me for the entire ten minutes? I guess I couldn’t blame him. It must’ve cost an arm and a leg to stock up the room.
Remembering that I had a job to do, I carefully continued dusting. Noticing the layer of dust on some pieces of art, I realized the lack of cleaning the room. He really didn’t allow anybody to come inside.
Yet, here I stood, taking in a view of a lifetime.
I couldn’t believe I had gotten so lucky to get hired under someone who held an appreciation for art as much as I had. At one point in my life, I could have had a room like this for my own personal enjoyment.
Nowadays, I’d have to go to an art museum to feel such a rush.
With the amount of time he gave me, I knew it would never be enough. Wanting to see everything, memorizing everything, it would take a few more visits. One day, if I could get the older man to trust me, then maybe coming inside of here could be normalized.
Noticing one miniature statue, I paused to bend over and get a good look at it.
“Miss Morrison, please refrain from trying to touch anything if you could,” he warned as if I thought about doing something daring.
I would never. If anything happened to one of these pieces and I was the cause for it, I might as well be signing my death certificate. After all, the only way I would be able to pay him back would be to sell a kidney on the black market.
“You can call me Lana,” I told him, giving him a look for a passing second. “I think three weeks is enough time for you to drop the formalities.”
Sure, I wouldn’t tell him that I wouldn’t mind hearing him say my first name. I didn’t dare use his to avoid disrespecting him. That wasn’t enough to stop me from thinking about it anyway. I secretly craved hearing Carter Pratt say my name when talking to me.
Offering him a smile, I moved to stand up while turning toward him. Without noticing, I stood closer to the stand than I realized.
My hip bumped the stand and I didn’t have to look to know the statue was no longer resting flat. Hearing it rock back and forth, my reaction time failed me horrendously.
Between the mixture of hearing Mr. Pratt call out a warning and turning to see the statue tipping over, fear shot through my veins.
Apparently, I wasn’t careful enough. Such a mistake could have easily been avoided, yet I caused it to happen in less than a handful of minutes of being inside the room.
Eyes widening, I watched the statue fall to the ground and before I could even try to catch it, it hit the ground and shattered.
Oh no. Fuck.