Chapter 121: Meeting the employees

The following morning, Sienna woke with a headache pressing hard into her eyes.

She groaned into the pillow and stayed there a moment longer before forcing herself upright. The night before came back only in pieces. She remembered going to Rosemary’s place and how glass of alcohol kept getting refilled. She remembered she had started talking but couldn’t remember what she said or how much she drank. Nothing was clear. She did not even know how she got home, or who brought her, or when she fell into bed. The missing stretch of time irritated her almost as much as the pain in her head.

She swallowed and her throat felt too dry.

She needed cold water. And there was none left in the small fridge in her room. She sat on the edge of the bed first, for a few seconds before dragging herself up, pulled a robe around her body, and stepped out toward the living room with a slow movement. She expected the house to be empty at that hour.

Then she stopped short. Because apparently the house wasn’t empty...

Two strangers were seated in the living room, a man and a woman.

As Sienna laid eyes on them, the last of her sleep fell away at once. The man looked to be in his early forties, dressed in a sharply kept corporate suit, clean, expensive shoes and even sat in a straight formal posture, looking so comfortable. If Sienna thought the man had been striking in his appearance, that was because she hadn’t observed the woman properly.

The woman beside him made Sienna’s eyes catch and hold before she could stop them. She was strikingly put together for seven in the morning. From her sitting position, Sienna could see how big her bust was, the huge breasts were straining against the purple shirt she wore. And there was the dramatic waist. Her hips were wide, hinting at a heavy backside in her sitting position.

Sienna blinked.

She was not expecting anyone. No client appointment, no scheduled guest. Certainly not at this hour... Her eyes moved to the wall clock.

7:00 a.m.

The two visitors noticed her at the same time and rose slightly in polite greeting.

"Good morning," the man said.

"Good morning," the woman added.

Sienna remained where she was for a second, one hand still holding the front of her robe closed. "And you are?"

"Stephen DeMarco," the man said immediately. His voice was calm and respectful without being soft. "I’m the legal counsel for Mr. Tom Harlow."

"Bree Lawson, I’m Mr Tom Harlow’s new personal assistant." the woman followed. Her voice was soft just as her chest seemed but she sounded so confident it almost seemed rude.

Sienna’s mind went blank.

Lawyer and Personal assistant? In her living room, even before breakfast. The same man who had closed a door in her face the previous evening now had staff arriving like this, looking like this, carrying themselves like his world had expanded overnight while she was still nursing a hangover and unfinished thoughts.

She composed herself at once.

"Okay, I see." she said more to herself than to the strangers.

Then she turned and walked back to her room, completely forgetting the water she had come out to get.

She thought that was the worse part of the morning but when she caught her reflection in the dressing mirror, morning got worst.

"No, no... God, no. I didn’t just go out like that." She growled.

Her hair was out of place. Her face still carried last night’s drinking. The robe did nothing for her. She looked rough in a way she hated, especially after walking past a woman like that in her own house.

Then, out of the blues, Sienna’s eyes dropped to her chest in the mirror. She turned slightly, then faced herself again and let out a sharp breath.

"Why would Tom get a PA with that kind of obvious BBL? Is he trying to test my blood pressure?" she scoffed.

She braced both hands on the edge of the dresser, staring hard at her own reflection. It was one thing for him to become distant. It was another thing entirely for the house to start filling with people who made her feel replaced before she had even brushed her hair.

The thought clung and she hated that it clung.

~~~~~~~~~~

A knock sounded against Tom’s door.

He woke up at the noise, and his voice came out rough with sleep; "Who is it?"

"It’s Aria," came the answer from the hallway. "Sir, there are two people waiting for you in the living room. They’ve been there about an hour."

Tom pushed himself up on his elbows. "An hour?"

"Yes, sir. I didn’t want to keep knocking earlier."

He sat up fully, rubbing a hand over his face. "Okay. I’m coming."

He pulled on a vest and stepped out into the hall, his face still carrying the roughness of sleep.

In the living room, the same pair Sienna had met rose to meet him as he stepped into the place. Tom’s gaze firstly landed on, the man, Stephen DeMarco who looked every inch of an expensive and controlled Lawyer. Then on Bree Lawson, who was even harder to ignore in motion.

"Mr. Harlow, i’m Stephen DeMarco. I’ll be handling your legal matters." Stephen said, extending a hand to him for a handshake. Tom took the hand and shook it sharply.

"Bree Lawson, Your PA." the woman said next. She didn’t extend her hand, instead she was doing something else.

As Tom was looking at her from bottom to head because that figure of hers wasn’t a view to rush over, she was looking at him from head to toe. Then a frown made its way onto her face at whatever conclusion she had seen... He was just waking up.

"You’re not ready." she stated firmly.

Tom blinked. "I just woke up."

"That," Bree drew out, checking her phone, "is exactly the problem. We can’t waste the morning. You need to be at L×L by nine for the signing. It’s already eight."

Aria, still near the hallway entrance, stared openly at the woman. She hadn’t expected guests. She had not expected a woman that looked like that. Instantly, she told herself that she didn’t stand a chance. However, the stubborn part of her said; ’Nah, girl, believe in yourself.’

Meanwhile, Stephen remained composed beside Bree, offering no interruption. Whatever working rhythm existed between them, he appeared used to her pace.

Tom glanced from Bree’s phone to her face. "You’re early."

"I’m on time," Bree corrected. "You’re behind, Sir. Take me to your room. I’ll get you ready."

At that, Tom was taken aback. Aria’s mouth parted slightly.

There was no pause after the request, no visible concern for how it sounded. Bree had already shifted her weight toward the hallway, ready to move as soon as he did.

Tom recovered enough to gesture down the hall. "This way."

Bree was already moving.

He followed half a step behind her, still adjusting to the speed at which she had taken over the morning. Stephen stayed back in the living room while Aria remained frozen near the wall, watching the free-spirited stranger with the aggressively attractive figure disappear down the private hallway of the house as if she belonged there.

At Tom’s door, he paused with one hand on the frame and glanced at Bree again. Then he mumbled to himself;

"Does her role include that too?"