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“Are you giving me a ride to work today?” he asks, his voice echoing off the bathroom tiles.
“I don't have a choice, do I?”
“You could call me another ride.”
“I'm not your assistant or butler. You want someone else to take you, call them yourself,” I say before heading for the kitchen.
Enrico follows closely behind me with the towel wrapped around his waist, hanging low off his hips. I don't allow my eyes to wander the way they did earlier. I only glance long enough to know he's dripping water all over my wood floor.
“I don't have anything to wear. Am I supposed to arrive at my meeting in dirty clothes?”
“You can borrow mine.” I fill the kettle in the kitchen sink and place it on the stove to heat.
He breathes out a laugh. “We aren't exactly the same size.”
“You can change again when you get to the office. You have plenty of suits there for a reason.” Not meeting his eyes, I pull down two mugs and grab the tea from one of the drawers.
His frustration is evident in his drawn out breaths. “So I'm supposed to walk through the door drowning in your clothes?”
“Should have thought about that last night,” I say, slowly approaching the fridge. “I'm going to make us some breakfast. I want you dressed and sitting at the table by the time I'm done.”
He grinds his teeth. “And if I’m not?”
Turning around quickly, I bore my eyes into his. “Do as you're told,pequeño. I don't have time for your stubbornness today.”
The corners of his mouth twitch as his need to argue increases. “Fine.” He drags his feet away as I'm turning back to face the fridge.
My next words have him stopping midway. “Oh, and wipe off the floors on your way back to the kitchen. You got water everywhere.”
“Yeah, yeah.” His words trail off as he walks to the bedroom.
By the time I'm scooping eggs and bacon onto two plates, he's exactly where I asked him to be, wearing one of my white T-shirts and a pair of drawstring pants.
I laugh, carrying everything to the table. “You look like you're on your way to play basketball.”
“Good,” he says, wiggling in his seat. “Means I blend in more.”
“I'll try and sneak you through the back way so no one thinks a stranger is trying to break into your office.”
“I don't need you to do everything for me. You're not my butler or assistant, remember? Besides, don't you have your own shit to attend to?”
Glancing down at my watch, I nod. “Yeah, but not until later. Now hurry and eat so we have time to stop by your place on the way to the club. You aren't showing up there like that. Your dad would have my head. There are important men stopping by today, and they’ll look for anything they can to use against you.”
“Even my clothes?” He tilts his head, lifting his mug to his lips.
I sit in my chair, pressing my arms on the table. “Every fucking thing.”
We eat our food in silence and I have to tell Enrico to slow down after he took my request to hurry up seriously. Eating fast will upset his stomach, and it's too early in the day for him to be spending hours away from the club floor. He doesn't think I know about how he's been disappearing a lot. It's all the stress. It's piling up so high, it's upsetting his whole body.
I clear the table once he devours his last piece of toast.
“Need some help?” he asks, sneaking behind me, innocently placing his hand on my shoulder.
Shutting off the water, I place the clean plate into the drying rack. “Nope. You can go wait for me in the car.”
“You sure are barking a lot of orders today.”
“It only seems that way because you're pointing all of them out instead of automatically following them the way you usually do.” Another sign I missed. Obeying comes so naturally to him, and he often follows my instructions without giving them a second thought.
