CHAPTER 6: SECRETS

Isabella awoke the next morning with a slight lightheadedness, the unfamiliar surroundings of Mark's bed taking a moment to register.

Soon, memories from the previous night flooded in, and a wave of uncertainty washed over her. Was it the wine that led her here? She questioned herself, grappling with the aftermath of sharing an intimate night with her boss.

Unable to entirely blame the wine, Isabella admitted to the soft spots she had been developing for Mark in recent days. "But that doesn't mean I should sleep with the man," she chided herself.

She felt the weight of anticipation lingering, as she wondered how Mark would perceive their shared intimacy. Not willing to stick around and find out, she gathered her scattered clothes from the floor, and tiptoed out of the room, silently retracing her steps toward her quarters.

Restless on her bed, memories of the night played back, each recollection growing more vivid. The lingering scent of Mark enveloped her, and the taste of his lips lingered on her own. Her mind vividly recreated the sensations—the gentle teasing of his tongue on her nipples, the tightening response of her body, the security she felt in his arms, and the whispered gasp that escaped her when he entered her.

When has drinking with a man ever led to something good? She asked herself . Isabella recognized that a line had been crossed, and the consequences of that choice loomed over her thoughts.

She had worked extra hard to mold the friendship she now enjoyed with him but she grappled with the thought of how last night might reshape their whole relationship. Soon, she dozed off again.

When she woke again, the time was 9:25 A.M., she shot up from the bed, realizing how much time had slipped away. An urgent need to start her day propelled her into action, and she silently prayed that Mark was still in bed. She still wasn't sure she was ready to face him after last night.

Unfortunately, luck wasn't on her side. In the kitchen, she encountered him, leisurely sipping the coffee he had made for himself— black and sweet. "I am sorry, Mr. Matthews. I overslept." she stammered, her eyes avoiding him.

"It's alright," he replied with his disarming smile. "I think we both know the reason why." he added, emphasizing the unspoken connection.

"Plus, we talked about this, my name is Mark," he gently reminded her.

"Mr. Matt—No, I mean Mark, that will take some getting used to," Isabella stumbled, her inner turmoil evident.

"That didn't seem to be the case last night, though," he observed, closing the distance between them. Isabella, still caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, instinctively backed away. Avoiding his gaze, she couldn't afford the vulnerability that meeting his eyes might expose.

"I will make some toast," she deflected. "Would you like an espresso along with the toast?"

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking concerned. "You look pale". This time he raised a hand to her cheek as if to feel her temperature.

"I am fine. Nothing to worry about"

He continued to look perplexed but she was glad when he graciously accepted the offer. "An espresso too would be lovely, thank you. I'll be in the office," he informed her as he walked away.

As Isabella completed the toast and espresso, she formulated an idea of what she needed to say to Mark. Finding him in his office, she steeled herself for the impending conversation. He turned around as she entered, and this time, she met his eyes.

He must have been waiting for her because before she could get a word out, he shot at her, "What's going on with you? You have been awkward all morning". His eyes were unwavering as he stared at her, daring her to lie.

"I am sorry about that… it's just… I am trying to get a grip with what happened last night."

"Get a grip? Why are you making so much fuss about it? You seemed eager when it happened"

Isabella flushed, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

"Yes it was fun," she managed to say. "... but it doesn't make it any easier"

"You need to stop overthinking this." he said as got up from his chair and rounded the hug table to face her. This time when he reached for her, she didn't back away. "It was just two people having a great time"

That was exactly what Isabella feared. They had mixed business with pleasure and she was unsure what that meant for her job. If it was a one time thing, she might be able to move past it, but what if it happened again?

"I think last night was a mistake." she finally said. "I am not sure we mixing business with pleasure was a wise move"

"Are you calling me a mistake?" He asked, trying to feign a hurt look.

"No, not you… you are beautiful," Isabella wished to express, but what she managed to say was, "What I'm trying to say is I don't usually go around having casual sex… and to make matters worse, you are my boss."

"So what would you have me do, Isabella? Apologize about last night? Cause as I remember, I tried to stop but you said no"

Isabella remembered that scene vividly, which led to her feeling more embarrassed. I should have stopped him when he asked, she decided. "I just wanted to clarify… that's all. What does last night mean for my job? What does it mean for you and I"

"You and I?" he gave her a quizzical look. "There is no You and I. You are my housekeeper, that's all… no more. Yes, last night was great but considering how you are acting right now, it's starting to look like a grave mistake"

An awkward silence settled between them. Isabella had awakened that morning uncertain of her emotions and Mark's perspective, but now he had made his mind quite clear…She was nothing more than his housekeeper

She knew he was right. Despite their new found friendship, she didn't let herself get distracted that the man was from a higher social class than her and if it wasn't for her job at his place, he wouldn't look at her twice if he passed her on the streets.

But last night's event had left her a bit confused. First he had braved the heavy rainfall to come find her and then they shared a nice conversation before the sex. She might have been forgiven to think he at least considered her a friend, but now that was clarified.

"If you feel this whole situation will impair you from doing your duties, you should let me know… I can have Elizabeth relieve you of your duties." he said scowling, his voice jolting her back from her thoughts.

"That won't be necessary. I can do my duties just fine… sorry for bothering you" she said wryly and then turned to quietly walk out of the office while grappling with the revelation of her place in his world which left a bitter aftertaste.

Breakfast became a rushed affair for Isabella, a desire to distance herself from Mark urging her through the rest of her morning chores. As soon as her duties were complete, Isabella changed into casual clothes, yearning to escape the confines of the mansion. The beach called to her, a sanctuary where the fresh ocean air promised solace and clarity.

Down on the beach, the sun reclaimed its dominance, erasing the memory of the heavy rain. Seeking refuge under a shade, Isabella watched the ebb and flow of people along the shoreline. A father and daughter building sand castles stirred warm memories of her childhood visits to the beach with her father.

Reflecting on the divergent path her life had taken after her father's tragic death at the hands of the cartel, Isabella wondered how different her circumstances might be today.

Her father, a devoted teacher, had cherished their small town despite the dangers. As a tear traced her cheek, she abruptly halted the memories, acknowledging that tears wouldn't alter the past.

Time seemed to stretch on the beach as Isabella observed the rhythms of life around her. Eventually, she rose, reluctant to face the reality awaiting her back at the mansion.

Along the way, she skillfully sidestepped friendly advances, particularly from a charming Italian man around her age, intent on inviting her to join a beach volleyball game but today she wanted solitude over socializing.

Finding Mark in the sitting room engrossed in a football game was an unusual sight for Isabella. The massive 70" TV, which she always jokes was just for show, now served a practical purpose. When he saw her eyes, he asked if she had been crying.

"No," she fibbed, "the saltwater got into my eyes."

"Is that so?"

"Un unh"

"You are a terrible liar… but anyways listen this morning, maybe I was a jerk. I should have been more receptive to your feelings" he said apologetically.

"When have you ever not been a jerk?" she answered him.

"Fair point." he said with a smile "But you can't blame me. we had sex one time, and suddenly you want some clarification… who does that?"

"I wasn't asking you to marry me or anything Mark. This is new for me… casual sex with my boss… I just wanted to know how it will affect my job." She answered exasperated.

"The job is yours as long as you want it Isabella. You have my word on that… and maybe we can just move past last night and pretend like it never happened? Can you do that"

"Yes… That seems reasonable enough" she said,pouting.

"Alright good. Starting now, nothing happened… in fact I can't even remember what you look like naked" he said with his sweet, boyish grin.

"Oh Please" she teased back. That was his charm, she realized. He had a way of swooping in to save the day at the last moment.

She soon offered to make mac & cheese, diverting the conversation, but as she walked to the kitchen, She couldn't help but feel the weight of his penetrating gaze. Damn your beautiful eyes, she silently cursed, recalling the mosaic of him that accentuated their hue.

Isabella set to work. Cooking was a skill she had honed, often taking charge of meals when her mother was occupied with work. The restaurant experience had further enriched her culinary abilities, and tonight she found solace in the familiar rhythm of preparing a popular American dish.

With the mac & cheese ready, she called out to Mark, planning to retreat to her room for the evening, avoiding unnecessary interaction. However, a sudden thump from the sitting room disrupted her plans.

Rushing to investigate, Isabella found Mark sprawled on the floor, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Panic gripped her, but instinct took over. Swiftly moving him onto his side, she cradled his head in her lap. Unbuttoning his shirt for easier breathing, she cleared the immediate surroundings to prevent any injuries during the violent jerking.

As she comforted him through the unexpected seizure, Isabella's heart raced, her prayers silent yet fervent. In this intense moment, the boundaries that had separated them seemed inconsequential.

The sudden calm that washed over Mark felt like a response to Isabella's silent prayer. His body ceased its violent jerking, and as his eyes slowly fluttered open, she could discern the shadow of shame in his gaze. Yet, she met his eyes with a comforting smile, wiping away the residual foam from his mouth.

Guiding him to the nearest chair, Isabella fetched a glass of water and a bowl to rinse his mouth out. Soon, the gravity of the situation started to dawn on her… his disappearance, the NDA they had her sign… it all began to make sense.

But what else was being hidden from her? Was he dying? If so, would she be implicated if anything happened to him? She had to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

When he finally settled, he opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off by raising her hand.

"Mark, you just had a seizure… you have no idea how scary that was and I cant help but assume this is related to why you suddenly never go out in public anymore…"

She paused waiting to see his reaction and when he didnt make a move to interrupt her, she continued. "... I don't know know what is going on with you, but if I am to continue workin for you like this, I need to know everything and I need to know NOW!"

The air hung heavy with unspoken revelations, and Isabella awaited his response, ready to face whatever truths lay beneath the surface