Chapter Five- What Waits When I Close My Eyes
Ethan +++++
"Tell me, boss!!!!"
My assistant cut into my thoughts before I could even finish the sentence.
I almost laughed at how eager he sounded, but the truth stuck in my throat.
I couldn't exactly tell him I wanted the job so I could get close enough to destroy Logan piece by piece. That kind of crazy stays locked in my head.
I cleared my throat and covered it quick.
"I would've happily told you everything if my application to become his bodyguard had actually worked out. But it was a complete disaster. Honestly? I regret even stepping foot in that interview room."
"What happened, boss??" He sounded worried now, voice jumping up.
"It's a long, messy story," I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Bottom line is that I didn't make it. Not even close to the next round or whatever bullshit steps they have.
So while you're at it, do me a favor and check the Logan Enterprise job listings again. See if anything else is open. Anything that'll put me close to him every single day. Not just in the same building but I need to be in his face and breathing the same air with him.
I wouldn't even blame him if he thinks that I had a crush on Logan because of how obsessed I am with him.
"There… there are lots of vacancies, boss," he said, but his voice was all shaky.
"Okay, that's good. Focus on the ones that keep me glued to him. Personal assistant, driver, whatever — as long as I see his face and he sees mine constantly. And why the hell is your voice shaking like that?" I frowned slightly.
"N-no… nothing, boss." He stammered harder. "It's just… I'm scared you're gonna kill me because you didn't pass the interview."
I actually barked out a laugh this time. The poor guy sounded dead serious.
"You know what? The thought did cross my mind for half a second. But then I remembered I still need you for a bunch of other shit, so you're safe… for now."
He let out this huge, dramatic breath of relief, like he'd been holding it since morning.
"Thank God. I was already writing my will in my head."
"So funny," I muttered, shaking my head even though he couldn't see me. "Anyway, apply for the best positions you can find. Use your brain — change the names, tweak the portfolio, make everything look fresh. Get back to me with the next steps."
I didn't wait for him to reply. I just ended the call and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.
My original bodyguard application was the only one where I'd used half my real info. Everything else had to stay buried.
I started the car and headed home. Since the board meeting got pushed to tomorrow, the rest of today was mine. Just me and whatever the hell I decided to do with the hours.
I pulled into my private parking spot, turned off the car and went straight inside without even glancing at the living room. My feet carried me right to the bedroom.
The second my back hit the bed, I let out the longest breath I'd been holding all day.
What now? I thought, staring up. I had time to kill and my brain was still buzzing from that disaster of an interview. Maybe I should hit the gym, or finally watch that documentary I'd been putting off, or—
"Mr. Ethan? Are you in here?" A soft, familiar voice called from the other side of the door.
"…She's back?"
I sat up a little. My housekeeper. I figured she'd left hours ago. Guess she came back.
"You can come in," I called, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
The door opened quietly and she stepped inside, bowing her head a little like she always did.
"Hello, Mr. Ethan."
"I thought you'd gone home already."
"I did, but then I went to the market and the supermarket. Stocked up on foodstuff, beverages, toiletries — everything you usually run out of." She gave me that gentle, worried smile she always wore when she thought I was neglecting myself.
"Oh. That explains why the house was empty this morning." I nodded, waiting for the real reason she was here.
"I came to tell you to come eat something," she said, hands clasped in front of her. "You haven't been eating properly again. I always have to force you."
"Don't worry about it. Just leave whatever you made — I'll eat when I'm free."
She didn't move.
"That's exactly what you always say, sir. And then you skip meals the whole day. I'm not leaving until you have at least something."
I shook my head, half-amused, half-exhausted. She'd caught me fair and square. My stomach didn't get the memo that it was supposed to feel hungry when life was this stressful.
"Fine. You win."
I stood up slowly and followed her down to the dining room. When we walked in, I stopped dead. The long table looked like a damn feast for twenty people — plates of grilled chicken, rice in three different styles, fresh salad, soup, some spicy-looking stew, fruits, even dessert options. It was ridiculous.
"Why is the table this full?" I asked, blinking at the spread.
And how didn't I notice that there were various foods on the dining table when I passed the sitting room?
I guess I was so engrossed with getting to my bedroom and laying down because I didn't even perceive anything.
How long did I also spent in Logan enterprise that would make her prepare this dinning feast?
The way she does her things always convince me if she had a super power that she is hiding.
"You can choose whatever you want," she said, cutting me off my thought.. "I made options in case you're not in the mood for one thing."
She really didn't have to go this hard every single time. I opened my mouth to tell her the usual — "Don't bother making so much next time" — but I already knew how that conversation would go. She'd just smile and say she'd freeze the leftovers for later. So I kept quiet.
"Thank you," I said instead, I sat down and started eating. The food was good.
After a few solid bites I was stuffed. I drank some water, wiped my mouth, and pushed the chair back.
.
"Eat more," she said.
"I'm full."
"You just started."
"I'm full," I repeated.
She sighed but didn't argue further.
I then stood up as I gave her a smile.
"I'm going back to my room." I said to her.
"Yes, sir."
.....
When I got to my room, I didn't flop on the bed. Instead, I walked straight to my desk.
I turned on my system. I need something to distract me.
My executive assistant had already organized the spreadsheets for tomorrow's meeting, but I still wanted to go through every line before I signed off.
"…This is going to take hours."
I leaned back slightly, then forward again.
"Let's just get it over with."
I dove in, my eyes scanning line after line, making small notes in the margins.
...
Hours later my eyes were burning. I rubbed them hard, blinking against the screen.
"…How long have I been sitting here?"
My vision felt strained.
My shoulders ached, my neck was stiff, and my brain felt like mush.
"I need to finish this," I muttered to myself, trying to push through. But I knew better. If I forced it now, I'd mess something up and regret it tomorrow when my head was clear.
I saved everything, shut the laptop, and dragged myself over to the bed.
The second my head hit the pillow, the darkness started to swallow me whole.
"Pleaa… pleeease… just… please… I don't want to have any nightmares…" I mumbled, my voice all slow and heavy, like I could barely keep my eyes open… but… wishes don't really work that way, do they…