The Unexpected Encounter

ADELINE'S POV

Eight years later, I was still disappearing.

"Table six is taking too much time to be served” Madam Brooke screamed from the kitchen.

“It’s almost ready!” I replied from the kitchen.

Two minutes later, I came out of the kitchen with the tray of food for that particular table, smiling as I walked there to serve. My hair is in a bun, and the blue apron looks like it was made for me. I caught my reflection in the stainless steel counter, same clear skin, same familiar face. Eight years had passed, but time hadn’t settled on me.

“You forgot to add wine,” the woman on the table said.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, will be right back” I apologized and rushed back to the cellar to get it.

It hasn’t been easy even after becoming a graduate, I still wasn’t able to get myself a good job that pays since then, so I had to settle for what I found here.

Tasty restaurant is one of the best around, and they get patronized well, so Madam Brooke pays all the servers well.

I got the wine and took it back to the table, then I returned to the kitchen but Madam Brooke blocked me. “You should rest now. Rest for five minutes before joining the others” she said and I smiled.

“Thanks ma’am” I said as I sat on a stool and got a burger from a tray which I ate as I rested.

“Adeline” 

I jumped up immediately.

“Mrs. Brown asked for you,” Madam Brooke said, already walking away.

“Mrs Brown” I smiled facing her. She was one of the customers who patronized us regularly and she treated me like her daughter anytime she came. 

“How are you today?” I asked.

“I’m fine daughter,” Mrs Brown smiled.

“I’ve got a proposal for you” She said and I grew more curious.

“You see, I know you are a very hardworking girl and besides, you are the first person who came to my mind as I was thinking, so please you’ve got to help me, I don’t have enough time anymore” Mrs Brown said but I was confused.

“What do you want me to do for you?”

“I need to take a short leave from where I work” Mrs Brown started explaining in detail to me, skipping the part of where exactly she’s working.

“So what do you think?” Mrs Brown asked.

“But … I can’t be working her and there…”

“Then quit working here” Mrs Brown cut in.

“What?” I half-yelled.

“I can’t do this, I said quickly “I have rent to pay. I have to eat.”

“How much pay do you get here monthly?” Mrs Brown asked.

“A hundred dollars” I replied.

“But you will be paid a thousand dollars in a month where I work” Mrs Brown said and I gasped loudly.

My breath caught. A thousand dollars? Just for… being a maid? I asked unbelievably.

“Trust me you can think about it…”

“When do I start?” I cut in and Mrs Brown smiled.

“Come here tomorrow morning “ she handed me an address.

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” I said.

“That’s when my boss will be available, so come early tomorrow” she said and I nod.

“I will be there” I said and Mrs Brown walked out.

9AM SUNDAY, HARTLEY MANSION

“Whoa”

The word slipped out as security escorted me through the gates. I couldn’t stop looking around, unsure whether I’d walked into a palace or the president’s residence.

We continued walking till we got to the main mansion.

Glass and steel framed the structure, sleek and restrained in a way that spoke of money that never needed to impress.

The doorman’s eyes swept over my thrift-store dress.

"Delivery entrance is around back."

“I have an interview,” I said calmly. “Penthouse level.”

He raised an eyebrow but called up and his expression changed after the call.

"Send her up."

The elevator was marble and mirrors. I watched my reflection rise with it, smoothing my dress, steadying my breath.

The doors opened into a penthouse that stole the air from my lungs.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park, furniture worth more than I'd make in years, and art that belonged in museums.

A man stood at the window with his back to me.

Tall with dark hair touched with silver at the temples and an expensive suit that screamed wealth.

"Miss Morgan." His voice was deep and cold. "You're four minutes late."

My stomach dropped. "I'm sorry. The subway was—"

"I don't care about excuses."

He started to turn then he completely froze mid-movement like someone had turned him to stone.

His hand shot out and gripped the window frame and his entire body went rigid.

He didn't move or speak or breathe and damn the silence was suffocating.

"Mr. Hartley?" I said, my voice shaking but he did not answer me.

His knuckles were white where he gripped the glass.

"Mr. Hartley? Are you alright?"

Slowly, like it was taking every ounce of control he had, he turned to face me and I watched the color drain from his face completely.

His grey eyes went wide with shock and his mouth fell open slightly, he stared at me like I was impossible, like I was someone who shouldn't exist.

His chest rose and fell rapidly like he'd forgotten how to breathe and his hand was still gripping the window frame like he needed it to stay standing.

We stood there in that massive penthouse, staring at each other across expensive furniture and eight years of missing memories.

"Mr. Hartley?" I whispered. "Do we know each other?"

He didn't answer, he just kept staring with those wide grey eyes that looked like they were seeing a ghost.

Then he took a step toward me and stopped like he couldn't help himself.

His hand reached out toward my face, trembling, then dropped to his side.

"Mr. Hartley, if this is a bad time, I can come back—"

"Don't move." His voice came out rough and broken.

He took another step closer until he was standing right in front of me, close enough that I could see the silver in his hair and the way his hands were shaking.

"Say something," he said quietly, desperately.

"What?"

"Anything. Just say something."

"I don't understand what you want me to—"

"Your voice." He closed his eyes like he was in pain. "God, your voice."

My heart pounded so hard I could barely breathe. "Mr. Hartley, you're scaring me."

His eyes opened and locked onto mine and what I saw there made everything inside me go still, it was like he'd known me for years then he whispered two words that made the air leave my lungs.

"It's you."