Employee of the Month

Clutching the front of his shirt in my hands, my knuckles had to be white from the tight grip. I didn’t need to pull him closer. He’d already stepped forward and met me halfway.

When he pulled away, his kiss lingered long after his lips left mine.

I sucked in a deep breath. Somehow forgetting how to do something that should have come naturally to me, I fought to clear my foggy head.

“You have a strange way of asking me to come back,” I joked hoarsely. My lips felt swollen from being nipped at. Something told me he didn’t try to kiss the other two cleaners who quit before me.

Carter’s hands remained on my face and his thumbs brushed my cheekbones so gently. The way his skin lingered on mine, I wondered if he thought I would run away if he let me go.

Honestly, I didn’t know what I would do if he let me go. I felt confused and wanted more at the same time.

Staring into my eyes, I could see the emotions swirling around. He parted his lips and finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, “I should have told you that over the phone. Knowing that I hurt you had been eating me away inside this entire time. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I need you to know that I’m sorry.”

His apology caught me off guard and while I tried to wrap my mind around his words, he continued to stroke my face. I didn’t think it was possible for Carter Pratt to be gentle.

Considering telling him that I wasn’t easy to break, I decided to enjoy the contact instead.

I wasn’t entirely sure what brought him into my home, but it felt right.

“You don’t have to apologize, I kind of deserved it. I shouldn’t have been in that room and we both know it. You are just trying to be nice and I messed up.” Giving him a shrug, I was the first to take a step back.

My face and body began to lose heat that he caused only seconds ago.

“It was just a statue collecting dust,” he tried to argue.

A very expensive dust-collecting statue.

“It’s fine,” I promised him before turning around and giving him my back. Walking deeper into the room, I sat down on my bed. “Though, I’m still not set on coming back Mr. Pratt. I didn’t intend on sticking around for much longer.”

He hardly made a sound, but I noticed he’d walked away from the door. For the first time since arriving, his attention wasn’t on me. Something else had grabbed his eye.

“You’ve been busy,” he pointed out before I realized he was looking at my current piece. He walked up to the easel and stared down at it long and hard.

I had never been self-conscious of my work before, but having him stare at the canvas made my stomach do a small flip. I guess he didn’t really know too much about me outside of our small conversations here and there while I was working for him. He knew I held an appreciation for art, not that I created it.

“I have been.”

What he was staring at was what I painted over the last few days. He probably saw the painting as a busy city with a lack of people on the street. What I felt while painting it was loneliness.

“It’s not finished,” I added defensively.

He continued staring at the painting with an expressionless face. I wish I could tell what kind of thoughts were swirling around in his head. Going around in a mind like his, I couldn’t tell if he liked it or hated it.

“I didn’t realize you painted,” he finally spoke and pulled his gaze away to look at me. “You’ve got a natural talent for it. I can see why you don’t want to come back as a cleaner. You’d rather use your hands for something better.”

Hearing his compliment, my stomach tightened and fluttered at the same time.

“So, if you don’t want to come back and work under me as a cleaner, why don’t you come back as my painter?”

His painter. Even though I knew I could be making a mistake, that didn’t stop me from nodding my head.

Even if he didn’t realize it, and it would only be for a few more weeks, Carter Pratt was letting me live my dream.