Chapter 5 Can We Talk

Thirty minutes later, I walked downstairs in my uniform. A black ribbon secured my hair in a bun at my nape. I wore no accessories except for a watch, a gift from my mother on my birthday last year.

Mom spotted me from the top of the stairs, her lips curving into a smile. "You look good, darling."

"You tell me that every day, Mom. It's hard to believe you now."

She chuckled. "I mean it. You really do look great."

Celine emerged from the kitchen, holding a dozen fresh pink roses picked from Mom's mini garden. She smiled at me. "I packed you some lunch, Lily."

She replaced the withered roses in the vase with the fresh ones. After she finished arranging the flowers, she handed me the lunch she had prepared.

"You shouldn't have bothered. I can eat from the cafeteria."

"There's enough food left for us. You should enjoy the meal your mother prepared."

Celine placed the lunch bag into my hands, and I had no choice but to accept it. "Thank you," I told her, feeling a little embarrassed that, in addition to taking good care of Mom, she was also looking after me.

"You'll be late for work, darling. You should hurry," Mom chimed in.

I pressed my lips to Mom's temples. "Don't forget to take your medicine, and don't stay in front of the television for too long. I'll be off to work now."

"I will take good care of her, so don't worry," Celine said, her smile reassuring.

"Please do," I replied. "Call me if something important comes up."

Celine nodded, and I gently closed the door behind me.

The clear sky stretched across the horizon like a breathtaking painting. The clouds were the purest blue I'd ever seen, promising a beautiful day ahead.

I tore my gaze from the sky and climbed into my car. Before I pulled out of the driveway, I took one last glance at the house. I hope Mom and Celine have a great day too.

The drive to work was uneventful. The streets were surprisingly empty today, no long lines of cars, no stressed drivers honking their horns, no rush hour madness. I guess I got lucky.

Usually, this drive would take me almost half an hour, but today it felt like the road was all mine. After fifteen minutes of peaceful driving, La Paraiso, a luxury hotel owned by the Bradfords, came into view.

I turned into the staff parking area at the back of the hotel, finding my usual spot empty and waiting. The clock on my dashboard showed I had plenty of time before my shift started-another good thing about having no traffic today.

Grabbing my bag and the packed lunch, I stepped out of the car and made a beeline for the employee entrance.

I flashed my identification card to the security guard before hurrying to the employees' locker, where I carefully placed my lunch inside while checking my appearance one last time in the small mirror I'd stuck to the door. Satisfied with what I saw, I closed the locker and headed to the time clock.

I pressed my thumb against the biometric scanner. Shortly after, I joined my coworkers with cleaning tools in hand to help prepare the dining area before opening the restaurant.

I was so focused on cleaning that I hadn't noticed the light footsteps approaching from behind. I continued to mop, unaware of the figure stopping behind me, watching with intent gray eyes.

Finally sensing someone watching me, I turned.

Those familiar gray eyes. Grey Bradford. My husband. My boss. The owner of La Paraiso Hotel.

My heart jumped in my chest, but I forced myself to keep mopping.

He stood there, watching me work, his expensive black suit perfectly pressed, hair neatly combed, and those stormy eyes fixed on my every move. I could feel the weight of his stare on my back, making my skin tingle.

The other workers whispered and moved away, leaving a bubble of tense space around us. They knew better than to stay close when Grey was around.

My hands tightened on the mop handle. Why was he here? He never came to this part of the hotel this early. The restaurant didn't open for another hour, and he usually stayed in his top-floor office until much later.

The silence stretched between us.

Maybe if I ignored him long enough, he'd leave. Go back to his expensive office. Go back to pretending I didn't exist.

But Grey didn't move. He stood there like a statue. My face burned, and I could feel sweat forming at my temples. Still, I refused to look up. Refused to meet those gray eyes that used to make my heart race for very different reasons.

I knew he was waiting for me to acknowledge him. To look up. To speak first. But I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Not today. Not after everything.

"Can we talk, Lily?" he finally spoke, his thick eyebrows merging into a straight line.

"Aren't we talking, sir?"

A horrified gasp came from the small group of employees who were quietly watching. If anyone at La Paraiso could defy the owner and not get fired, it was me. But of course, none of the employees knew Grey was my husband. They must have thought I was out of my mind.

"Follow me to my office, Lily," he ordered, turning his back and marching toward the door.

The employees scattered away in fear. Grey Bradford, the heartless CEO of Bradford Hotels, fired employees as if flipping through a book. Employees avoided him like a deadly plague.

He must have realized that I wasn't making a move, as he paused and turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "I won't ask you again."

I tilted my chin stubbornly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bradford. We have VIP reservations today, and I can't abandon my duties. I'll see you when I'm free." That said, I ignored him and went back to work.

Silence fell over the restaurant.

The great Grey Bradford, who always had the last word and could silence a boardroom with a single look, found himself at a loss for words. Several emotions flickered across his face in rapid succession. Disbelief. Anger. Something that resembled hurt. The last one disappeared so quickly I might have imagined it.

I could see my coworkers frozen in place, their eyes darting between Grey and me.

Grey opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds, his shoulders straightened.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and left.