Chapter 3 A little romance

"What were you trying to accomplish by that little drama?" the guy asked. "I allowed you to work in my establishment and you went ahead to..."

"I'm pregnant," the word left my mouth in a bit of a squeal in frustration.

The guy blink twice. "I'm sorry, you're what?"

"Don't act like you don't know, I'm not the most subtle person."

His eyes narrowed and then widened again as if he understood something about me or maybe even was surprised. I didn't care either way at this point. "Well, that's...unexpected. Why telling me that?" He frowned.

I felt my heart thumping in my chest rapidly as the car went to an abrupt stop. I felt so embarrassed by his reaction that I almost melted in the seat, for once I thought I was accusing the wrong person of my misfortune.

"You're a crazy lady, your priority is out of order," the guy mumbled. "The wrong choice for my hotel."

The moment he mentioned that my eyes narrowed into slit. Does he own the hotel? I bit my lower lips as my cheek started to burn, I was accusing the wrong person.

"I'm sorry, sir?" I apologize for the thought that I needed the job badly. "I didn't know you weren't the one, you happened to have similarities with the father of my unborn child."

The guy was quiet for a while. "Rogers, I prefer you call me that," he said.

I nodded, my hand reaching out to unbuckle my seat belt. "Okay, Mr Rogers. I'm sorry for everything."

"You shouldn't, you're day is going bad," he replied.

I immediately looked up, suddenly shocked by his words. My eyes got trapped in his and he leaned forward his face getting closer until I could feel his breath.

He reached forward and unbuckled the seat belt for me. I pushed open the door slowly and found my way out of the car, trying to recollect what had just happened as I made my way towards the entrance of my apartment.

I turned to look behind me and eventually spared a few glances from Mr Rogers as he climbed down his car and made his way towards me.

My heart froze as I wondered why he was following me when he would have driven his car away like a decent young man. I stood transfixed at the spot and watched him as he took his step one at a time, letting the wind embrace his hair as he made his way to meet me.

"I don't want to go back to the office and face the mess you've created," He said. "If you don't mind, can I come in?"

The question rang through my ears in a much more embarrassing manner. After being called a cheap standard now he wants to see the mess of my one-room apartment.

I gulped. "Um, yes of course." Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I pushed open the door of my room and my gaze fell on the mess of my room. Clothes were almost everywhere on the floor and my pillows were in an adverse direction, everything looked like my room was a previous battleground for teenage girls.

I had my closet wide open and the window display was the worst. I felt like I should disappear. I rushed forward and grabbed a chair close to the window and brought it next to where Mr Rogers was standing. He had this retched look plastered on his face as he scanned my room with his eyes.

"Um, sorry my room is a mess," I drawled. "I didn't have much time to put things in order this morning, and I wasn't expecting anyone to come by."

He forced a slight smile and took the seat. "It's okay." He scoffed. "It's not bad."

I sighed looking around the room to figure out what I should do first. I gathered the clothes and pilled them up to my closet before picking up the remaining stuff from the ground.

"So you live here?" Mr Rogers asked, his voice embedded in mockery.

My back stiffened. I wasn't expecting someone so rude to question me. But I couldn't let him know that.

"Yeah, I've only been here for two years, but yeah." I turned around to look at him.

"You're so unorganized, technically not the kind of stuff I need in my hotel. I mean look at your house, it's like a rat hole." His words were full of disdain and disgust. I knew I shouldn't care about his opinion of my home, but he was too rude to say things about it.

I tried not to show any sign of discomfort as I continued putting away my belongings. But deep within my heart, I was angry and sad. "Not everyone has it all on roses, sir," I responded with a hint of venom.

His eyes widened as they looked at me. They narrowed when he thought for a moment longer before saying, "I see, very discomforting," He smirked.

My face dropped and I quickly looked elsewhere. I wasn't used to people dismissing my life and telling me how horrible it was.

But I have a temper the type I can't control when it comes to people trying to point out the obliviousness of my life.

"Yes, I find myself extremely uncomfortable at times because people like you tend to think of my life as a mess because they think they're better than me, and if you're starting to feel discomfort I'll suggest you leave," I spoke quietly as I placed another pair of shoes into my small box.

Mr Rogers was quiet for a while before he stood up, and I thought he was going to leave but instead, he made his way to meet me hastily. The shoe box in my hands dropped to the ground and he pulled me close to the wall.

We were standing in each other's personal space and my face grew hot. My eyes darted from his piercing stare to his lips then to his chest. A shiver went through my body as his hands grasped the sides of my hips.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, not wanting to break whatever fragile peace we had between us just yet. I felt some sort of attachment between us and my heart beat rapidly.

"I didn't say your life is a mess, you talk too much." He looked down at my lips and I felt the urge to push him away but I couldn't resist him. He pressed his lips against mine and kissed me hard on the mouth.

After a few seconds of me fighting against his kiss, I gave in and kissed him back. It was passionate and fast.

"I've been holding the urge to kiss you, Miss Stone," he mumbled.

The way he said my name sent shivers up my spine. I didn't respond and instead pushed him away as much as I could.

"I'm afraid I don't share those feelings." I tried to keep the disappointment from my voice but couldn't quite manage to hide it. "I'm sorry," I added softly, looking down at his feet.