Chapter 6

As the sun gently filtered through the window. I blinked away the sleep and rose from the bed. With Mr Anderson aware of my secret, I knew I had to be careful and avoid any action of him firing me. Determined not to give up, I resolved to change his perception of me and make him see that I was worth keeping around. 

Heading straight to the bathroom, I freshened up and made my way downstairs. To my surprise, Mrs. Vilis was already in the kitchen, bustling about and preparing breakfast. Concerned etched across my face, I approached her and asked, "Mrs Vilis, why are you doing all this by yourself? I'm here to help. She looked at me with a mixture of compassion and worry "Are you okay now, Chloe?" she asked. I reassured her saying "Don't worry, Mrs Villas, I'm okay. "Deep down, though, I couldn't shale off the anxiety that came with facing mr Anderson. Just then Mrs. Vilis handed me a cup of coffee and said, "I did to go and prepare Emily for school. Take this coffee to me Anderson in his room." my eyes widen with shock, but before I could protest, Mrs. Vilis had already disappeared. How was I going to face Mr Anderson? Taking a deep breath, I carried the cup of coffee and made my way to his room. I knocked on the door and he responded with a curt"Come in." as I opened the door slowly, our gaze met, and I quickly averted my eyes. The tension in the room was palpable. "Mr Anderson this is your coffee," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I placed the cup on his desk, ready to make a swift exit. But just as I turned to leave, he stopped me. "why is my coffee not hot as I prefer? He demanded. I turned to face him, my heart racing" How do you like your coffee, Mr Anderson? I asked, trying to keep my composure. "it's not hot enough, go make me another cup," he replied, his voice firm. At that moment, I felt a mix of frustration and determination. I knew I had to prove myself to him, not just through my work but even in the smallest tasks. Taking a deep breath, I nodded and said. "of course. 

As I carried the freshly brewed coffee to Mr. Anderson's room, anticipation filled the air. I was hoping that this time, it would meet his elusive standards. But to my dismay, his face twisted in displeasure as he took a sip. My heart sank, and I couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Anderson was intentionally trying to make my life difficult.

Feeling a mix of frustration and confusion, I returned to the kitchen to prepare another cup of coffee. Thoughts raced through my mind as I questioned his behavior. Was he purposely being rude? Did he have something against me? The more I thought about it, the more determined I became to confront him about his attitude.

With a fresh cup of coffee in hand, I mustered up the courage to face Mr. Anderson once again. As I entered his room and handed him the coffee, a glimmer of hope flickered in my eyes. But that hope was quickly extinguished when he spat out the coffee, criticizing it for being too sugary.

"Miss Chloe, don't you know how to make coffee?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. I tried to explain, but he cut me off, demanding that I go and make him another cup. Frustration welled up inside me as I returned to the kitchen, questioning whether Mr. Anderson was purposely trying to punish me.

As I prepared yet another cup of coffee, doubts clouded my mind. Was I making it too sugary? I decided to taste the coffee myself to confirm. To my surprise, it wasn't sugary at all. Confused and frustrated, I was fuming with anger. I mean, who did he think he was, trying to punish me like that? So, without a second thought, I angrily threw the coffee into the sink. I was determined to give him a taste of his own medicine.

I brewed another cup of coffee, but this time, I decided to make it extra bitter. I wanted him to regret ever messing with me. With the cup in hand, I made my way to his room, my heart pounding with anticipation. As I walked in, I could see the surprise on his face. He had no idea what was coming.

I handed him the cup, trying my best to hide the smirk that was creeping on my lips. He took a sip, thinking it would be the same as before, but boy, was he in for a shock! The moment the bitter taste hit his tongue, he immediately spat it out and squeezed his face in disgust. It was a sight to behold!

At that moment, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He had underestimated me, not knowing who he was dealing with. , I whispered to myself, "He doesn't know who he's trying to mess with." It was a small victory, but it felt oh-so-good. As I stood there, ready to walk out, Mr. Anderson confronted me about the bitter coffee. "Did you intentionally make my coffee bitter, Miss Chloe?" he asked with a stern look on his face. I tried to play innocent, quickly responding, "No, why would I do that?" But Mr. Anderson wasn't convinced.

He approached me, holding the coffee out towards me. "Take and drink," he said, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Reluctantly, I reached out and took the coffee from him, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew I had intentionally made it bitter, but I couldn't let him see my true intentions.

I brought the cup to my lips, closing my eyes as I took a sip. The bitterness hit my tongue, and I couldn't help but cringe. I expected Mr. Anderson to be furious, but instead, he remained silent, staring at me intently. It was as if he was trying to read my every thought and emotion.

At that moment, I couldn't help but wonder why Mr. Anderson was being so savage. I had specially made the coffee for him, thinking it would be my way of getting back at him. But now, I questioned whether I truly knew anything about him at all.

As I stood there, holding the coffee in my hands, I could feel Mr. Anderson's gaze piercing through me. There was an intensity about him that I had never noticed before. It made me wonder what secrets he was hiding, what depths lay beneath his composed exterior.

The silence stretched on, and I couldn't bear it any longer. Slowly, I raised the cup to my lips and took another sip, this time trying to hide my distaste. Mr. Anderson continued to stare at me, his eyes filled with an enigmatic mix of emotions. I took a deep breath trying to hide the bitter taste that coasted my tongue. With a forced smile, with a forced smile. I looked Mr. Anderson straight in the eye and confidently declared, "See, is not bitter, Mr Anderson."silence hung in the air as if time itself paused to witness the tension between us. Mr Anderson's piercing gaze never wavered...