She would never try it again, never!
Orla thought, scenes from last night flashing through her vision as she dipped the fork into the piece of steak that was on the plate in front of her.
Violently clanging the fork against the ceramic plate, she was venting her aggression on the innocent object and she felt bad that she was just pitiful.
Last night was a night of discomfiture, hell embarrassment, the biggest one of her life. She couldn't even look Callan in the eyes after acting stupidly last night. But he noticed her struggles with the steaks.
He shot her a side glance but turned away very quickly to eat his food. The fork was in one hand while the other hand supported his phone. He was working again, as he always did.
"I can change the steaks if they are too hard to cut." Dora, Callan's chef at the penthouse, said when she noticed Orla's behavior towards her food. "I made them soft, I don't know why you…"
"They are soft." Callan chimed in, picking up the glass to sip some water.
His eyes swiftly flickered across the dining room, resting on Orla before she could raise her head to look at him.
He was disgusted with her act, and he had been holding back the words since she started eating that morning, but now, he just had to talk.
"Dora, get my wife something else if she doesn't like the steaks and rice."
"Yes Boss," Dora bowed her head in reverence, ambling closer to ask Orla what she wanted to eat in place of the steaks and rice bowl. "Ma'am, what would you like me to get you?" She smiled easily and heartily, displaying her set of perfect white teeth.
Orla was enchanted by her smile and without thinking twice about it, she returned the smile. "I am fine with this. Thank you, Dora." Her voice was low.
"Are you sure about this?" Dora asked for the last time. Orla nodded, assuring her that the steaks were good for her.
"I will be back when you are done with the food then," Dora bowed again. Turning towards the exit of the dining room, she smiled and slid out.
An arching silence blanketed the dining room after Dora's exit. The steaks suddenly became so stiff Orla couldn't cut them into smaller pieces anymore. The atmosphere between them was so tense she tasted the tension that burned within it.
She couldn't talk, there was nothing to discuss with Callan. But she wanted something to obliterate the stillness. Maybe one of his employees walking in and talking to him about some business deals, a phone call, just something. Something that will distract him.
"We will sleep here if you don't increase your pace, slow girl." The sound of his deep voice jolted her out of her reverie. She balanced the fork in her hand and cut harder, but it didn't pull through. Callan looked at her and shook his head. "Trash it if you can't eat it. I don't have all the time in the world to wait for you."
She just remembered that they were moving into his mansion today, but she hadn't expected it to be too soon.
After minutes of failed attempts to cut the steaks, she peeked at Callan from the corner of her eyes. Luckily for her, his eyes were on his phone.
She checked him out. Clean shaven. Well-structured jaw. Nice suits. and…he veered around, his eyes meeting hers before she could finish her exploration.
"I am done with the food and ready if you are ready to leave."
Callan looked at her plate. She barely ate anything from the food. He heaved a sigh and rose to his feet. "Pack whatever you have to pack and meet me on the third floor." He walked closer to the mirror side and took a cursory look at himself, making necessary adjustments to his clothing where it was needed.
Orla scurried out of the dining room and within seconds, she was back in the bigger room with a bag dangling in her hand. "I am ready," she murmured, audible enough for Callan to catch her words.
His eyes ogled her hand and he noticed something was missing. He didn't care anyway, but he felt the need to voice out.
“Sure you are ready," he snorted, clasping the Salvatore Ferragamo watch against his wrist.
"Yeah," Orla nodded, hugging the bag to her chest.
"I see you are." He bent a little to check the mirror. He straightened up and made for the door, ready to leave the room but not without saying. "Your cat. I won't let her mess up my room with her awful poops." Slamming the door shut, Orla could make out the loud sound his brogues elicited as they slapped the tiles in the hallway.
She was still standing speechless when his words clicked. Her cat, Betty. She had forgotten to pick up Betty where she was curled up in the small room. She was too engrossed in whatever she was dealing with that she forgot about her best friend.
"Oh Betty," she moaned, hurrying back into the room to get her cat.
-
-
Orla strolled beside Callan as Rosa called out his schedules for the day. All she had in her mind as they stepped towards the elevator was for Rosa to trip on her heels and fall flat on the floor. That would make her feel better for what she made her go through last night.
"And about last night, I am so sorry, Boss." Rosa closed the tablet, heaving a sigh. She looked from Callan to Rosa and back to her boss. "I thought that was what you needed."
"I will spare you this time because I didn't specify what I wanted and you were able to rectify your mistake by sending in a new dress last night. Next time you do that, I don't know what will happen, Rosa." Callan said frantically at her.
"Noted sir." Rosa nodded her head, clutching the file in her hand to her chest. That was a narrow escape, it didn't matter that she had been Callan's personal assistant for five years. She knew well that he could relieve her of her job if she flopped at any point. She had to tread carefully.
Orla slipped into the car before David could open up for her, she wasn't used to that kind of lifestyle yet. David opened the door for Callan and they all settled in.
"Are we good to go?" Davis asked, loosely gripping the steering.
"Yes, to the house please," Callan responded, his eyes on the tablet screen.
He had been on the same deal since last night and he was yet to nail it. It didn't always happen that way, he was bothered but his expression didn't portray his feelings.
"Yes, Boss." David turned on the ignition, jerking the car back to motion.
He arranged himself carefully and drove out of the parking lot when he was sure everywhere was good. He hit the street, joining the long line of cars that were waiting for a clear road.
"I am sorry for neglecting you." Orla kissed Betty. For a second, Callan thought she was talking to him, but looking beside him, he saw that she was communicating with her cat.
Their eyes locked and he lazily studied her gaze. He saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, but he looked away before he dwelled too much on that.
"Thanks for reminding me about her," Orla said faintly, fiddling with her fingers. Betty meowed, "No, no, I was not going to forget you, I swear." She kissed her again, diverting her attention back to the cat.
Callan wasn't sure why he felt satisfied that she was happy with her cat. Whatever it was, he didn't give a fuck about it.
David maneuvered his way through the traffic, making a turn towards the busy road that led to Callan's mansion. He drove swiftly but in a moderate way, just as Callan had always instructed him to drive him.
Thirty minutes later, the car halted in front of a gigantic dark brown gate.
"Finally!" David wailed, grinning. He seemed so excited about their arrival.
Callan turned to Orla, but she had drifted to sleep with Betty clinging onto her chest.
He stared at her for a little longer than normal. Her dreamy eyes as she slept peacefully like she had no worries, the short breaths she took in her sleep and how she wrapped her cat to her chest like she was protecting it from being taken away.
"We are back home, Boss," David said again, interrupting him.
Unknowingly and briefly, his eyes swept past Orla to the gate in front of him. He looked back at her and he smiled broadly. He wasn't sure why he did that.
He wasn't certain if he smiled because of the sight of his fragile wife sleeping peacefully in his car or if it was just the happiness that surfaced because he was back at his house after abandoning it for months. Whichever was the reason for this broad smile, he wasn't sure about it.
David kicked the car again, and the roaring sound jolted Orla out of her sleep. She yawned a little, shoving her head out of the window.
"Oh, are we home?" She asked when she noticed the gate in front of them.
Callan had stopped gazing at her now. "Obviously." He snorted. "Drive in, David. We don't have all the time in the world."
"Yes, Boss." David waited for the gate to completely open up before driving in.
Orla's heartbeat intensified as David drove in. She looked at Callan again. Stony face. Unreadable expression. They were in his house and she didn't know what to expect.
The gate finally opened up, revealing the most beautiful house Orla had ever laid her eyes on.
"Wow!" her jaw dropped.