I just finished working out in the gym and headed back to my room with a towel on my shoulder. The house was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning.
As I turned the corner, I saw a figure rushing toward one of the guest rooms, it was the same girl from earlier. She glanced back once, then quickly slipped inside and shut the door behind her.
I stopped for a second and shook my head. Was she running from me?.
I let out a quiet scoff and shook my head. Ridiculous.
I entered my own room, went straight to the bathroom, and turned the shower on.
The water came hot and I stood under it longer than I needed to, waiting for my mind to settle the way it usually did after a workout.
When I stepped out, I took a towel to dry off, pulled on sweatpants and a shirt, and sat on the edge of the bed.
I picked up my phone, scrolled through emails and messages, and replied to the important ones. Once I was done,
I dropped the phone on the nightstand and lay back on the bed. My mind wouldn't stay quiet.
It kept drifting back to the woman, the woman my mother had brought home.
How did she end up in our house? What happened to her? I remembered how she had passed out that night after the man tried to rape her.
I wondered if she was okay now. Why do I care?. I shook the thought out of my head. "None of my business", I told myself.
I pushed off the bed. Sleep wasn't coming, it hadn't come easily in a while now, not since the accident.
I decided to have a drink. I went downstairs to the bar, poured myself a glass of whiskey and leaned against the counter,taking a slow sip.
The liquid burned nicely on the way down. Which was exactly what I needed. Better than the silence, at least.
I was halfway through the drink when I heard soft footsteps behind me.
I turned. It was my mother. She came closer, her eyes gentle but worried. "You still haven't been sleeping, have you?" she said softly.
I gave a small nod. She sighed and settled beside me, folding her hands in her lap. A moment of silence passed between us.
I raised my head and looked at her. "Who is the lady?"
She looked at me for a moment, then said quietly, "Her name is Eva."
I waited.
Mother continued, "I met her tonight on the street. She was soaked, crying, and completely broken.
She told me everything…how she worked so hard for years, paying every bill while her husband and his mother did nothing.
How she got fired today and they threw her out into the rain like she was nothing."
She paused, her voice softening even more. "I felt so much pity for her, Reid. She doesn't deserve that kind of life."
I took another sip, saying nothing.
Mother went on, "I don't want her to keep staying here with nothing to do. Since you're back, you need a PA. I'm sure she can handle the role."
I set the glass down slowly. "How do you know she can? You barely know her."
Mother smiled a little. "I believe she can."
I set the glass down slowly. I didn't want to agree.
The last thing I needed was some stranger, especially one connected to my old rival, working that close to me every day.
But Mother looked at me with those hopeful eyes and kept pressing gently until I finally gave in.
"Okay," I said.
The word was out before I could reconsider it. My mother's face lifted immediately with warmth spreading across it.
I didn't look at her directly.
"Tell her to come to the office tomorrow," I said, keeping my voice even. "9a.m. Proper interview. No exceptions."
If this was happening, it would be on my terms. I'd assess her myself. Make my own judgment.
My Mother's face lit up again.
She smiled happily, stepped closer, and pecked me on the cheek. "Thank you, my dear."
She added softly, "Now go back to bed and try to get some sleep. You've been up all night again."
I nodded. "Goodnight."
She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze and left."
I watched her go. Then I picked up my glass and finished the last of the whiskey in one slow swallow, the burn sharper now that the glass was nearly empty.
My mother had always liked helping people.
She had always been like that. Kind to a fault. Always finding someone who needed saving, always certain that care was something you could just give freely without counting the cost. I respected it. It was one of the things I both admired and found exhausting about her. I stood up, decided to get some sleep so I could prepare for work the next day.
I set the glass down and turned off the light.
Back upstairs, walking the hallway in the dark, my eyes shifted, just briefly, without meaning to glance toward the guest room. Her door was closed.
I slowed for half a second.
Then looked away and kept walking.
I went into my room, lay down, and stared at the ceiling in the dark the way I'd been doing most nights lately.