Mr Sinclair's Mistress

Rosalie Maxwell

Life gets harder as I get older and I'm getting tired of it. My family's dream is exhausting, and a long time ago it became mine too. I run myself ragged every day, sometimes I come back and I'm too exhausted to do anything other than work and sleep, but I can't because their dream is mine. My parents used to own a general store called Maxwell's. It's named after our family and, when they were young, the shop did really well; but now, people buy what they need online, and the business my parents poured blood, sweat, and tears into, is failing. I don't see us making it another year.

Their medical bills are behind, along with their rent that is one month past due and the only reason our landlord is not evicting us is because he has known my parents for thirty years. If it weren't for that, and the fact I promised to pay him before the month ends, they'd be sleeping in this store. Even right now, the electricity in my parents' apartment is off, and I need to provide another fifty dollars to get it turned on.

My eyes begin to burn with frustrated tears, and I stop moving boxes to try and catch my breath. Pressing my palms against my eyes I take a deep breath, but my emotions are too strong. I'm too damn tired. I'm so sick of caring, but I have to, I need them. I can't give up on them. I feel like I'm the only one who gives a shit about this business, too.

My parents barely come to the store anymore. My mother, Mariah, only shows up when she needs money to waste on the latest gambling place that would accept her. My father prefers to come here with his friends to raid the alcohol section with his friends whenever he likes. Since I added that section, I've never come back to find the money from a complete purchase or even any bottles of alcohol left. David Maxwell is very charitable when it comes to the distribution of alcohol that I provided for his dying business.

As for my brother, he is always off doing who knows what, and I'm left here, trying my damn best to make ends meet. I have to come over every day after work just to make sure everything is intact and they don't need anything. I have to make sure the lights are on, the water is running and check if there's sufficient food. I'm not sure how much longer I can do this before I break before I quit, but what kind of person would that make me if I quit on my family? I can't do that to them even though they have done it to me. They left me with this store and now I'm stuck unless I want my family to be homeless.

I no longer have the energy to do this. I no longer have the will to be the only one keeping my family afloat.

When do my hopes matter? When do my dreams and wants matter? I don't think I even have any of those, to be honest. No one has ever cared. It's always been about me taking care of them. I've dedicated everything. I've drained my savings account to keep food on the table and electricity running in their home.

I have nothing to my name now except my house because they had nothing to theirs. All those jobs I worked when I was younger, including my present job as an assistant, at one of the most popular companies in D.C., every dime pinched and saved in hopes of buying my own house one day, gone.

I know I'm bitter. I know that. I know I'm selfish and I'm being a bad daughter and sister, but when do I stop being all that for them, and where does that leave my family? I can't stop, right? I can't stop being what they need me to be. It isn't fair to them.

"It's not fair to them," I mutter and then exhale loudly, mentally scolding myself for letting my emotions crowd my duty to my family.

I can't think of quitting, because they need me and I need them, we're family. Especially with my grandma living in my parent's house now. My parents had demanded I take her to a retirement home because they didn't want to have to take care of her at this age, but I refused. I refused to let my grandmother, the woman who had done a better job at raising my brother and me than our mother. Especially now, with her being very old I didn't trust any retirement home.

Gran needed patience, and enough care while being surrounded by loved ones. And I'll continue to provide that for her as long as we're both alive. Even if it means coming from work to see her every day when I'm supposed to be resting for my next day at work.

I throw my wild curly hair in a messy bun to at least get it off my sweaty neck and stand in front of the box fan for a few minutes. It's blowing dry, hot air but it's better than nothing, right?

The doorbell chimes and I hold my breath, hoping it's a customer but it's just my younger brother, James.

"Rosalie! I fucked up, sis. I fucked up!" He slams the door, locks it, and laces his fingers behind his neck.

I drop the broom when I see the bruises on his face. "Oh my god, James. What happened?" I hurry to the front door and flip the sign to close. "Who did this to you?" I grip his chin, turning his head left and right. He has a black eye and a split lip. One hand is holding his side as if he has been kicked. "Who did this to you?" I repeat.

He pulls away and begins pacing the length of the room, "It doesn't matter. I need some money," James tells me.

"W-what? I don't have any money right now." I say honestly. "Who hurt you, James? We should go to the police right away." I walk closer to him and begin studying the bruises again.

"I said leave it! All I need is the money you're going to give me." He says roughly.

"I told you, I'm currently broke. But if you can be patient, I'll try to ask for an advance at work. I already spent my last salary on all the needs you and our parents have." I explain gently.

"So, not only are you useless to me right now, you're calling us needy?" He sneers.

"W-what? James don't be ridiculous. I never said that. You should know what I-" he cuts me off abruptly.

"Never mind. I'll find the money myself." He walks towards the door to leave.

My heart breaks as I blink back tears, "James! Wait, I don't have the money now but just be patient with me, please." I go after him and beg.

"Leave me alone, Rosalie. I don't need your stupid money." James spits before walking out and leaving me alone in the dimly lit, and quiet store.

Rosalie

"Rosalie, send the minutes from the last meeting to my email." My boss's voice fills my office through the small communication device he installed here. It's only connected to my office. So, I'm the only one that can hear him.

Which is a bad thing sometimes.

Mr Sinclair looks up in surprise when I walk in, a frown marring his handsome face as his gaze roams over my attire. I look down at myself, taking in the skirt and long-sleeved blouse I'm wearing, embarrassment rendering me speechless for a moment. I can count the times I've been around him in my usual work clothing on one hand. I never compromise on my professionalism, and neither does he.

I still remember the warning he gave me when we first started working together. He told me to never walk into his office wearing anything I couldn't attend a board meeting in, and until today, I never have.

I cleared my throat and cleaned my sweaty palm on my skirt, "Mr Sinclair, I brought the minutes you asked for." His hard gaze remains on my face and I want to cower and hide from it.

I make sure to avoid eye contact with him. I can feel his eyes glaring holes into my skin, intimidating me.

He hesitates for a moment, and then he nods, before motioning me forward with his hands. He takes the file from me and opens it, reading the contents. I stand there in silence and take a minute to study him. He's irritatingly handsome, with that strong jaw, that straight nose, and his thick dark hair. His good looks don't make up for his complete lack of personality, though. I can't even imagine him acting affectionate. Does he even know how to smile, or have his facial muscles completely atrophied due to lack of use?

In all the years I've worked with Mr Sinclair, I don't think he has ever smiled at me or regarded me in any other manner.

"What other manner would he regard you in?" My subconscious retorts rudely.

"Why didn't you just send it to my e-mail?" He asks and I stare at him feeling uneasy.

"I-I was just compiling the digital minutes to send it to you when you asked for it," I explain, making sure I do my best not to stutter.

I always seem to lose the ability to be fluent in speech any time I'm communicating with my boss.

"Hm," he lets out a low grunt. "Fine. Make sure I have that file in my e-mail before the end of the day." He tells me and I nod in agreement.

"Yes, sir." I mentally remind myself to drop every other work and focus on compiling that file. I move to pick the file up from his table but after I see how close it is to him, I think against it and walk towards the door.

"And where do you think you're going, Rosalie?" he asks, his tone as emotionless as it always is. We've been working together for years, yet he still calls me by my full name. I'm Rosie to everyone but him. From the very start, he's made it clear that he dislikes me and that he intends to keep me at a distance.

That's the only explanation I can give for how he treats me.

I've seen how he acts and talks with the other employees and he's never this cold or rude towards them, except me.

"I was going to continue working on the minutes you asked for, sir," I tell him, hoping my voice doesn't betray me.

"I never gave you permission to leave." He relaxes in his chair and keeps his eyes on me.

Permission?

"I'm sorry, sir. I-I had no idea." I tell him honestly.

"You're my assistant, you work for me and I pay you. So, that means you're obligated to obey me whenever we're at work," He says.

"Yes, Mr Sinclair. I apologize." I can't lose this job, it's the only thing that has been keeping me and my family afloat.

Since Mum and Dad lost their jobs and the store started failing, my job as an assistant to the CEO of Sinclair Enterprise is the only thing helping my family and me survive.

Each of the Sinclair siblings handles different areas of the Sinclair conglomerate. Between them, they handle finance, media and PR, hotels, motor vehicles and tech, real estate, and some foreign holdings.

They're all industries the Sinclairs have entered in the last fifty years, under their grandfather's guidance. They've been tremendously successful, but it's the Finance industry they entered first. It's Sinclair Finance, and The Sinclair Bank, that they're best known for. And the bank along with the hotels and real estate is being controlled by my boss, Mr Nicholas Sinclair.

That's how big and powerful his family name is.

"Have a seat." He commands and nods at the empty seat in front of him.

"Thank you, sir. I'm fine standing." I mutter weakly.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Rosalie." He pushes his seat back, walks to the makeshift bar in the corner of his office, and pours himself a glass of bourbon.

"I assure you there's no need, sir. I-I have to go finish my work soon anyway." I mumble.

He starts walking towards me and the marbled floor suddenly becomes an interesting sight for me. I keep my eyes on the floor, making sure to avoid any contact with him. The part of the bare floor I was just looking at is suddenly replaced with two black shiny shoes.

I jerk backward unable to control my surprise and my reaction to being this close to him. I lift my head slowly and my breath gets lodged in my throat. My pulse leaped in my throat. Up close, he was so beautiful it almost hurt to face him straight on. Thick black hair brushed his forehead, framing features straight out of the classic Hollywood era.

Chiseled cheekbones sloped down to a square jaw and sculpted lips, while deep brown eyes glinted behind glasses that only heightened his appeal.

Without them, his attractiveness would've been cold, almost intimidating in its perfection, but with them currently occupying his face, he was approachable. Human.

"Do I make you nervous, Rosalie?" Mr Sinclair asks

"N-no, sir," I mutter weakly. I seem to be doing that an awful lot around him.

He smirks, his eyes graze over my face and stop on my lips before he chuckles and steps back, looking away.

He's silent for up to a minute, and I make sure to keep my eyes down, completely avoiding his intimidating gaze. "Go and get your work done." He tells me, "You may leave." He adds, dismissing me.

Rosalie

"Grandma! That's a naughty thing to say." I laugh along with my grandmother at something she said.

She smiles at me. "I'm not a child, Rosie. I may be old but I used to get it down too when I was around your age." She winks at me and I can't help but erupt into another fit of laughter. I don't think I want to ever hear my grandmother use the term 'getting it down' again. I lift our joined hands to my face and warm her hand on my cheek.

Her touch has always felt like home. I've always been at my happiest when I'm around my grandmother.

"Oh, Lord! Grandma." I throw my head back, laughing loudly. My laugh fills the silence in the house, reminding me that Grams and I were alone tonight, as usual.

She shoots me a knowing look. "What happened, Sweet Rosie? Why have you been so upset lately? It's been a few weeks now, and you haven't been yourself."

"Upset? I'm not upset, Grams. I'm fine," I lie. "Don't worry about me."

She places her hands on mine, "Don't lie to me, child. I know you better than that." She was right. Grams knew me better than anyone in my family. After all, she was the one who raised and looked after James and me when our parents disappeared doing heaven knows what.

"It's just stress with work, nothing else." I decided to tell her the easiest answer just so she would stop worrying.

She smiles lovingly, studying my face silently. "How is, Mr Sinclair?"

"He's fine, Grandma. Do you want some ice cream?" I ask her, trying to change the topic to something else apart from my boss.

"I don't believe you, darling. What's wrong? Did something happen with, Nicholas?"

"No," My brows lift. "Why would you think that? I already told you before, Grams, he hates me." I tell her.

"Well, you've always had feelings for him." My eyes widen and I'm about to start protesting when she lifts her finger, stopping the words from leaving my mouth. "And don't tell me it's a lie, I know you do." She says with a knowing smile.

Have my feelings towards, Nicholas been that obvious that even Grams noticed?

"No, Grandma." I lie. "I don't care about him at all. Didn't I tell you? That man is the devil. He's heartless and emotionless. He cares about nothing and no one but himself." I suppress the aching of my heart and straighten my spine.

"Don't lie to me, Rosie." She pinches my cheeks playfully.

"No. He's just my boss, nothing more. You should stop watching so many Telenovelas because you're seeing things that aren't there."

"Am I?" she asks, her brows raised.

"Yes!"

She rises to her feet and starts to unpack the food she made and kept for me, placing different containers on the coffee table leisurely. "If that's true, then why were you upset that one time when a woman came to see him in the office?" She asks me

I stare at her in surprise. How could she possibly have noticed that? All I did was rant about my day to her. I didn't tell her about how my heart ached when I saw how lovingly he gazed at the woman. "I was not upset." I lie again.

She glances at me and shakes her head. "What is it then?"

I groan and fall back on the sofa. "Grandma. I'm focusing on building my career. I just want to take care of you, James, and my parents."

She looks me square in the eye and pauses, a yogurt container in her hand. "But who is going to take care of you, Princess?" there's a small pang in my chest after what she said.

I cross my arms and sigh. "I don't need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself."

She nods. "I know you can, Rosalie. But sometimes it's nice to rely on someone, even if you don't have to. Sometimes it's nice not to be alone. Life goes by fast, Rose. When you get to my age, what will you have? What memories will you have made? Your work won't keep you warm at night." She hesitates, and then she sits down next to me. "I love our family, but they're bringing you down, Rose. You've spent half your life caring for all these grown people, and it is not good for you." She places her palm on my face and kisses my forehead, "You need to start looking out for yourself more, sweet child."

I muster a weak smile "I don't mind, grandma. I like taking care of my family. I don't mind." I kiss the back of her hand.

Grams sighs tiredly, "I won't be here forever, Rosie." There's another sharp pain in my chest again. "And I'll hate to leave this world, knowing you aren't happy. You deserve the world, princess." I smile lovingly at her, doing my best to accept everything she's saying.

"Don't say that! You still have a lot of time to spend with me." I hug her

After some time, grams pulls away and turns back toward the food she made for me. "Here," she tells me. "Have some of this-" she frowns as she stares at the container filled with Chicken in front of her. Her face pales as her expression goes blank. "Mariah," she says, calling me by my mother's name. "This? What is it called?"

Worry grips me as I wrap an arm around her. "Grams?" I murmur, my heart racing.

She looks into my eyes and blinks. "Ah, Darling Rosie? What is wrong, Princess?"

What is going on? "Grandma, have you been forgetting things lately?" I ask, my voice soft.

She laughs it off with a wave of her hand. "I'm old, Rosie. It happens."

That seemed like more than momentary forgetfulness. She was confused, and for a moment, she thought I was my mother. "How about we pay a visit to the doctor? It would make me feel so much better."

Her expression hardens and she shakes her head. "Sharks," she tells me. "They're all sharks. All they want is your money. Even if nothing is wrong, they'll find something to make us pay. I won't go."

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. "This is why we have health insurance, Grams."

She shakes her head, a stubborn glint in her eyes. "You know they don't cover everything, especially for me. I won't go."

I nod reluctantly. It'll take me a while to convince her to go, but I'll have to. "Okay, Grandma."

I rest my head against her shoulder, a hundred different thoughts fighting for dominance in my mind. I'm worried about my grandmother. I can't lose her, she's all I have left in this wicked world.

I need her, I'll be all alone without her.

I can't be alone.