"Nothing. It looks like the women here have a crush on him. Does he also live there in the hacienderos' residence? "I asked.
There is someone else with an aunt because she has been smiling. I don't want to assume that she knows anything because if there is a reason why she let a rich man work here.
He could afford to buy the whole hacienda if necessary, but he chose to work here. Is he already begging? Impossible.
"Yes, Kylie. The diligence of that young man is also strange. He does no rest all day. His diligence and posture are not his things, but he adapts ".
I was silenced by what my aunt said. Now, I am still determining. I should talk to him.
After dinner, I went back to the bedroom. I went to the big window of my room. I looked at the vast acres of mangroves where Clinton is now harvesting.
I saw a truck there. The sun was up, and I saw the farmers working there with Clinton.
My heart hurt. I'm worried if he's eating. To a CEO like him back then, he was being served and eating expensive food. The clothes are clean and very fragrant.
But now it's different. He was stained and turned a little brown because of the sun's heat. But that only adds to his appeal. Why is there no way for him to be ugly? Everything suits him.
I sniffed because I couldn't bear to see him like that. My heart aches.
I went back to bed and was just online. I didn't feel like going out because of the sun's heat.
The first time I scrolled, the HMU files opened up for me.
My forehead furrowed as to why Clinton's name was there.
No picture. That's just a post by the admin of that page.
"Shantal Dimaano, the new transferee of HMU, got a slap in the face of our admired Clinton Montemayor! This is a big issue today at HMU. What could be Shantal's fault? And was physically hurt by our well-known snob and bad boy Clinton?
-admin
-gay horse "
What ?!
I just read this post on HMU files. Why did Clinton slap her? My god! Clinton did that? Looks like I need to talk to him.
I slept in the room all day. The wind makes me feel drowsy.
In the afternoon, I just washed up and left the house. I wore a brown floral dress just up to my knees. I curled my hair pretty blonde and put lip tint. I realized that I was making an effort to get out.
I plan to talk to him today.
Because maybe he still needs to have a snack, I brought a pineapple pie made by my aunt. She is not there now because she is at the market every day. After all, she is involved in delivering fruits and flowers.
Carrying the basket, I went to where the Clinton was. And there was Clinton there, and it was just a little barn and a barn in each. I wondered if he was comfortable in the barn and could afford a hotel! Why does he suffer in the barn?
After a five-minute walk, I reached the mango trees. I turned the stall of the wintering haciendas to a shade under the mango tree with wooden chairs and tables.
I was stunned to see Clinton handing over juice and bread from a female worker. Clinton accepted that, and the woman blushed. Not only that, but many of them fantasize away from Clinton.
Others pretend to pass. Others pretended to get something at the table where Clinton was snacking.
My head heated up, and I approached him. I dropped the basket on the table, and he looked at me. The woman turned away as if they had seen a ghost in fear.
Did Clinton look at me? But he took a deep breath and pulled me to a chair beside him. He glanced at the basket I was holding.
I don't know what I can say. His face was red and accentuated his mixed complexion. His boots and pants are dirty. He was topless, and the shirt was slung over his shoulder.
I looked at his red lips and realized I saw the corner rise.
He smirked arrogantly.
Didn't you feel sorry for yourself?
"Why are you here?" I said coldly and folded my arms.
"How are you feeling?" instead, he asked. He didn't seem to hear me.
I close my eyes tightly because of irritation. I can still see a glimpse of us working on our side.
"As you can see, I am fine. You, why are you here? What do you want and come here? "my voice rose slightly.
His mouth tightened. Suddenly, he stood up, and someone took a basket of ripe mangoes and some fruit from under the mango tree.
He handed it to me.
"I took this for you. It's healthy for our-"
He hadn't finished what he would say when I suddenly threw the basket to the ground. He didn't expect me to do that because it fell to the ground!
The woman sighed, and our worker shook his head at what I had done.
I blinked so hard because even I couldn't believe I had done that.
"Uhm, I-" I stammered but finally looked up so that the tears wouldn't fall from my eyes.
His jaw clenched as he looked at me intently. My heart seemed to be pounding. In the extreme cold of his gaze, I bowed down.
I bit my lip as he bent to the ground at my feet where the mangoes and roses had fallen. As I stood in front of him.
One by one, he picked up the mangoes and returned them to the basket and the broken pieces of roses.
My heart ached as if it was being squeezed as I watched him pick them up individually.
I never even imagined that a Clinton Montemayor wearing a complete suit and many bodyguards was now here on the ground picking up the mangoes I dropped.
Before he stood up, my tears welled up.
Damn it!
He laid it down on that table and looked back at me.
"I took that for you. I'm here because I can't keep you from me, especially since you're pregnant. You don't have to ask why I'm here because that's what I want. Even if you ignore me, as long as I can see you, I am happy with it.. " he said seriously, his eyes red.
I sobbed and was surprised when he wiped away my tears. It was so light that he didn't want me to be hurt.
"Give me a chance, please," he whispered, stroking me on the cheek, but I avoided that. I folded my arms and looked at him boldly.
"Chance? You want it?"
I ask.
"Yes," he replied hoarsely.
I turned over the mountain basket of mangoes that had yet to be loaded into the truck.
"See that?" I pointed to the mangoes.
"It shouldn't be the night before it's all in the truck. I don't want you to ask for help. Do it yourself; it shouldn't be the night before it is delivered." I knew it was impossible.
He looked at me darkly.
"And if I can, you will do what I want?" he determinedly told me.
He can't finish this afternoon.
"W-What's that?" I stuttered the question.
"You will sleep with me tonight."
I bit my lip but knew he couldn't finish.
"O-Okay d-deal."
He stepped closer to me. He leaned on me and reached my left ear.
"Did you know yesterday I was still holding back on your charm? You know me, Nicole. I will do anything to get you and be ready. . . I will punish you too much. "he whispered in my ear, and he kissed me there.
Because of his scent, I was close to inhaling as he started to put a basket of mangoes in the truck.
I even stumbled because he had a brain. For each pledge, he lifted three baskets simultaneously in just one pledge. One on his left arm, one on his right, and one on his head.
It looks like it won't make him overnight and deliver early to the market.
He even looked at me and bit his lip as he looked at my thigh.
Damn. Pervert! I am dead tonight!