Chapter 8 Housekeeper!!

• “Why did it take you so long to open the gate?” he asked, his tone laced with impatience. His eyes flicked over her from head to toe, lingering for a moment on the smudge of dirt across her cheek.
• Valerie opened her mouth to reply but found herself at a loss for words, still reeling from the shock of seeing him here, of all places. But before she could say anything, he added, “Show me the entrance.”
• She quickly pointed down the walkway. “This way…”
• Without even a glance back, he started toward the house, tossing a command over his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “Get my luggage from the car.”
• Valerie froze, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Did he just…” She gawked at his retreating figure, her mouth hanging open. She couldn’t tell if he didn’t recognise her from the boutique or if he simply assumed she was the hired help. Either way, he clearly had no idea that she was the owner of this entire property.
• The thought of correcting him flitted through her mind, but she held back, her pride simmering beneath the surface. Grumbling under her breath, she stomped to the car and yanked open the trunk. A towering stack of designer luggage filled the space, each piece shiny and new, their weight practically mocking her as she hoisted the first bag out. “What in the world…? Does he plan to stay here for a year or two months?” she muttered, struggling to lift a suitcase that seemed to weigh more than her entire wardrobe.
• “This is ridiculous,” she hissed, her voice echoing across the yard as she lugged the suitcase toward the house. “Mr. Fancy Pants here just assumes I’m some… urrrrgh! He’d better have packed a gold-plated wardrobe with all this luggage. Such a fool”
• As she huffed and puffed her way into the house, she heard his voice ring out from inside, sharp and commanding: “Housekeeper!”
• Her temper flared. “House what? Housekeeper? Really?” She bit her tongue, trying not to snap back, and hurried toward the entrance, dragging his luggage behind her. The man stood in the foyer, looking around with an air of bored detachment, barely acknowledging her as she approached.
• “Finally,” he drawled, looking up only long enough to wave her toward the stairs. “Take these up to the master bedroom.”
• Valerie muttered under her breath, casting a frustrated glance at the towering staircase, and back at the mountain of luggage she was expected to carry. Every step she took, she grumbled louder. “Oh sure, no problem. Just carry the entire contents of a luxury department store up the stairs,” she muttered.
• Halfway up the staircase, she lost her grip, nearly stumbling under the weight. The man looked over, raising an eyebrow. “Are you struggling?”
• “Oh no, I’m fine,” she snapped, panting. “Just so glad I could help.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but he didn’t seem to notice. She finally reached the landing, red-faced and sweaty, her dignity long abandoned. She dumped the suitcases near the door to the master bedroom and took a step back, wiping her forehead.
• As she started down the stairs, she heard him call out again. “When you’re done, please have my bags unpacked and ready.”
• Valerie’s jaw tightened as she fought back a scream. “Housekeeper? Unpack his bags?
• She felt like dying but took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm as she made her way back down, muttering all the way.
• Valerie reached the bottom of the stairs, trying to keep her composure as she stomped back into the living room. She could feel her cheeks burning, equal parts exhaustion and indignation fueling her frustration. Her mind raced with the absurdity of it all—the nerve of him to barge into her house and start barking orders as if she were his personal servant. She clenched her fists, breathing deeply to stay calm.
• She tried to slip back to her quarters quietly, but his voice called out again, echoing through the house. “Oh, and could you bring me a glass of sparkling water? No ice.”
• Valerie halted, glaring daggers in his direction, though he was entirely oblivious. She could almost feel steam rising from her head. “Sparkling water? No ice? Okay this is too much, I’m going to lose my damn mind!” She muttered to herself, “The audacity…”
• She stomped into the kitchen, her mind whirling as she searched through the fridge for sparkling water, slamming the fridge door harder than necessary. Just as she placed the bottle on the tray, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection on the fridge door: wild hair, dirt smudges on her face, a dishevelled mess. She couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at the sight. Once, she’d been the woman who commanded attention, the one who turned heads. Now here she was, forced to serve drinks to the very man who’d once insulted her in that boutique, her own house feeling like someone else’s domain.
• Holding back a sigh, she placed the bottle on a silver tray and made her way back to the living room. She walked over to him, setting the tray on the table with perhaps a touch more force than necessary. He barely glanced up, muttering a quick “Thank you,” without even acknowledging the effort it took.
• “Is that all, sir?” she asked, her tone saccharine sweet, though her patience was hanging by a thread.
• He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “You’re rather… spirited, aren’t you?” He smirked as if amused by her attitude.
• Her patience snapped. She folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “Well, I’m sorry if my spirit’s a bit hard to handle. This isn’t exactly how I envisioned today going.”
• His brow furrowed as he looked her up and down, finally seeming to realise the tension in her tone. “I’m sorry, is there a problem?”
• “Oh, there’s a problem, alright,” Valerie thought, though she forced a tight-lipped smile and shook her head. “No, no problem. Just let me know if you need anything else.” She quickly turned on her heel, determined to leave him in peace before her patience wore any thinner.
• She had just reached the door when he cleared his throat. “Actually, I’d like my bags unpacked now, and do bring me something light for lunch in about an hour.”
• Valerie stopped in her tracks, her entire body tense. She bit her lip, considering a hundred responses, each more unkind than the last. But instead, she took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders, and mustered what dignity she had left.
• “Very well,” she replied tightly. “I’ll… see to it.”
• As she left the room, she could feel his gaze on her back. She held her head high, reminding herself this was temporary. “Just two months,” she thought, reassuring herself. “Two months, and he’ll be gone.”