Chapter 2: The Meal

Patrick turned and stared at the entrance door as it pushed open. A pretty, fair-skinned maid stepped inside, and he felt sluggish, almost weightless, as he stared at her pretty face.

Patrick felt drawn to walk up to the maid and seize her as she entered his sitting room. Her cute, round, chubby face met his cold gaze while she carried a tray of his evening meal. His mother had probably sent her to deliver his dinner.

Furthermore, Patrick clutched the third alcoholic wine bottle he was gulping, removed it slowly from his lips and set it on the bar top as she stopped in front of him. She flashed him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

“I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but Mother said I should deliver this meal to you. Where can I keep it?” she asked.

Patrick stood up sluggishly and staggered toward Loveth. Her shining, black eyes immediately looked away to the tray in her hands. He sniffed her like a dog, and she froze at his sudden behavior.

Loveth had never seen a handsome man like Patrick before. She had refused at first when her mother spoke to her about moving into the Anderson home to serve elderly Mrs. Eleanor Anderson.

It was only after much pleading from her mother and two younger sisters, Janet and Juliet, that Loveth finally accepted and moved into the mansion.

Seeing the handsome man in the red, expensive shining shirt and plain black trousers approach her, she felt her blood pressure rising. Her grip on the tray tightened when he sniffed her like a dog.

'Do I smell bad?' Loveth wondered as her cute smile faded.

Patrick ignored Loveth and sauntered into his bedroom.

Loveth stood speechless, unsure what to do.

Mrs. Eleanor had told Loveth that her son had a weak stomach from birth, and that she should ensure he ate well, since she had given birth to him at an older age.

Loveth’s grip tightened on the tray containing a plate of jollof rice, fried chicken lap and freshly cooked pepper soup with scented leaves. She hesitated, unsure where to set it down.

Loveth stood there for a while, but the young master did not come back out. She did not even know which room he had entered, since she was not responsible for tidying his rooms. It was only her second day and second night working for the family. She had not seen him the previous day because he had left early for work. She breathed out heavily and looked around his wide sitting room.

Her gaze moved from the seven purple couches placed in different locations to the standing shelves holding books that she felt drawn to examine, even though she could not read well.

To the walls of the living room were painted white, and Loveth realized the Andersons loved the color white. Every corner of the four-story mansion was painted white, including the exterior.

Loveth sighed and walked to the bar to set Patrick's dinner down, unsure what to do next. She hesitated about approaching the door he had entered and knocking.

She shook her head, stepped back, walked to the sitting room door and entered the elevator, which immediately took her down to the ground floor.

Loveth saw Mrs. Eleanor retiring to her room downstairs. Her husband was not around; he had traveled for medical treatment. Mrs. Eleanor smiled at Loveth and waved her closer.

“Come,” she said softly.

Loveth walked over. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Has my son eaten his dinner? Did he like the meal?” Mrs. Eleanor asked.

Loveth swallowed, stared downward and shook her head. “No, Mother. Master did not respond. He left me and went back into one of the rooms.”

Mrs. Eleanor frowned. Loveth felt sorry for her and met her gaze.

Mrs. Eleanor said nothing. She knew her son was stubborn and would not eat his dinner. She continued her slow walk to her chambers.

Loveth, uncomfortable with the sad look on Mrs. Eleanor’s face, rushed after her.

“Ma, should I …?”

Mrs. Eleanor stopped and stared back at Loveth's face. “What is it?” she asked quietly, trying not to sound harsh.

“Should I go and check on Master again, to see if he has eaten his dinner?”

Mrs. Eleanor nodded.

Loveth, always the happy one, immediately darted away and rushed back to the elevator to go up to Patrick's room on the fourth floor.

* * *

Patrick had just stepped out of his bathroom. He did not bother wrapping his white towel around his waist because he liked stepping out bare when he was in his room.

Patrick remembered the look of his mother’s new maid and shook his head in rejection as he dried his wet, taut body. He loved to work out, and his biceps and well-chiseled chest were striking to behold.

Furthermore, Patrick remembered the videos of his fiancée Willow Albert in the arms of his rival Tony Miles, and his brows furrowed.

Willow thought Patrick was stupid and did not have enough informants. She had agreed to travel to New York City with Tony to have fun and wild nights.

Patrick’s grip on the towel tightened.

Tony knew Patrick loved Willow and had intended to marry her.

Tony, a 29-year-old CEO of Miles Corp., was always in competition with Patrick, copying everything his hotel did, monitoring his private businesses and even trying to extract personal information about his top sponsors from his mobile app through Willow.

Willow was 24, a hot brunette with melanin-popping skin. She was slim with a simple, sexy shape and small breasts like oranges.

Patrick breathed out in anger, remembering he had a business meeting with private sponsors at 10 p.m. He glanced at the clock on his magnificent room wall and saw it was 9:15.

Patrick sighed, dried his short brown hair roughly, and squeezed it with the towel to stop water from dripping onto his bare masculine body.

He walked to the wide full-view wall mirror on the right side of his executive room, painted white with a golden chandelier hanging brightly from the ceiling and milk-colored curtains on the wall.

Patrick stared at his handsome, dark unclad reflection in the bright light and frowned.

Patrick was handsome and hot-blooded, yet Willow had chosen to cheat on him with Tony, who was also huge and two years older.

Patrick stared at his member and shook his head in irritation. Plenty of women gawked at him and desired to pleasure him at the hotel, but he had chosen Willow because she was a hot, charming, melanin-popping model.

Still, Patrick had thought Willow was innocent because of the poor-girl look on her deceitful face.

After sleeping with her and realizing she was no virgin but wild in bed, he had still loved her craziness and how she overpowered him.

Patrick was no saint either, but nights and office romance with Willow had been incredibly fun.

Patrick owned a celebrity cover magazine that shot and displayed past events hosted in his hotel.

As he continued staring at his handsome, unclad reflection—the one Willow had dumped for his rival—he heard the elevator leading into his chamber ding open.

Patrick had been sure the new maid his mother introduced had already left.

He thought it was probably another maid coming in to pick up something. He was certain the maid would not dare near his room.

Patrick threw his towel onto the executive blue chair, walked to the drawer near the wide wall mirror, took out his cream and applied it to his hard body.

Patrick was a little drunk, and remembering his hot nights with Willow made his díck harden. He groaned and rubbed the cream into his palms.

* * *

Loveth stepped into the wide living room belonging to the younger master, as the other maids called him, and looked around his sitting room.

She did not see him and knew he would still be in the room he had entered.

Loveth remembered Mrs. Eleanor had said Patrick had a weak stomach. She walked to the bar, picked up the tray of food that was almost getting cold and approached his room door.

The door was not locked. Holding the tray in both hands, Loveth could not knock, so she used her leg to push the door open and walked in.