It was my first time inside the master's study room. As expected, the interior and furniture were plain and simple. No art painting hanging on the wall. It convinced me that he was not really fond of it at all.

He was behind the desk working. I felt his sadness, it radiated on me. I understood the pain so well, it's like your heart is ripped into two.

He looked drained, hollow and lifeless. His hair was a bit messy, his face was pale and haggard, and dark circles visible under his eyes.

"Good evening, sir. Here's your dinner. Beef Steak, grilled sandwiches and vegetable salad. I also added a cold and delicious orange juice, fresh from the garden."

He never bothered to look at me, just answered in a weary tone, "I only requested coffee."

I heaved a short sigh, being cautious of my reply. The last thing I wanted was to provoke him. I did not want these beautiful dishes flying everywhere in the room.

"I understood sir, but Mrs. Deary cooked this beef steak for hours to make it so delicious. She'll be very disappointed if you won't eat it."

He dropped his pen on the desk, then shot me a cold look.

"She's paid to cook delicious dishes for me, regardless if I eat it or not. So take the food away. I'm very busy, Miss Rosi, I want to be alone," he lowered his head, back to the documents in front him.

A few seconds later, aware that I was not moving an inch, he looked at me again. His well-sculpted face twisted in anger.

"Are you practicing to be a mannequin? If you are, then this is not the right place," he snapped at me, but I still stood there, tongue-tied and frozen, "What are you waiting for? I said, leave!"

I jolted at the force of his angry reply, it took me off guard.

I inhaled deeply, before answering him.

"We're worried about you, sir. Jack said that you only had coffee for breakfast and lunch. You can't have coffee again for dinner."

"Dammit," he hissed, cursing his bodyguard.

"You need to eat sir, you haven't eaten anything all day."

"It's none of your business, if I die of hunger," his eyes drilled at me, "you're not my nanny, Miss Rosi, so don't treat me like a seven year old boy."

"But sir..." I replied, but he raised a hand, to stop me from talking.

"I'm not paying you to worry either, so stick to your job, or you're fired!" he lashed out sharply, then took his pen again, shutting me out.

I cleared my throat, trying to be as gentle as possible, "I'm sorry if I offended you, sir. If you don't want to eat, then I respect your decision."

He pressed his lips together, his expression in rage.

"It's just that... we all enjoy working for you," I sighed briefly, "and we're afraid that if you won't eat, you'll die of hunger or caffeine overdose. What will happen to us if you're gone? We all rely on you, and our families. It sucks that we have to find another employment again. There are few hiring nowadays, and most employers don't give high compensation and big benefits like yours."

His lips twisted nastily, "tell the staff that I won't die easily, I'm a bad weed."

"Of course not, sir."

"You don't know me, Miss Rosi. So don't read what you only see on the surface," his voice mellowed down, "and for heaven's sake, leave now."

"What about the food?"

"Eat them, they're all yours."

"But I can't finish them all alone, sir. I need someone to eat with me."

He sat forward and looked at me intently. The anger was gone on his face, and replaced with something more dangerous.

"Is that an invitation, Miss Rosi?" his dark brows rose.

"What?"

"Are you inviting me to have dinner with you?"

My eyes grew big, realizing that he misinterpreted what I said.

"Oh! No, no, of course not, sir," I shook my head, my face burned with embarrassment.

"Too bad," he shook his head, "I realized, I haven't interviewed you yet. I was thinking we could do it now, while having dinner together. But since, you don't want to eat with me..." he returned to his papers, "just give me my coffee, Miss Rosi, then you can leave."

Did I hear him right? He considered having dinner with me?

"Oh no, no. I actually want to have dinner with you, sir."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Absolutely," I nodded, giving him a cheerful smile.

Finally, he chuckled. It was the sweetest sound that I've ever heard at that moment.

"A self sacrifice, just to save your employer from dying of caffeine overdose," he dropped his pen on the desk, then stretched, "the staff will be forever grateful to you, Miss Rosi."

"I'm sure they will," I agreed, then started setting the food on the small square table before he'd change his mind.

Good that there were extra plates and utensils in the trolley. Some extra placemats and table napkins too. I arranged them beautifully on a table, then told the master that the table was ready.

It was very awkward, face to face with Kristov Stavrakos, and sharing a delicious meal. My heart throbbed so fast, my pulses raced and my hands shook terribly. It looked very intimate, just the two of us inside the room.

"Do you... um.." I asked.

"Are you..."

We both talked simultaneously, so I stopped.

"Go ahead," he said, "ladies, first."

"Um... do you often have dinner with Callio... I mean, Miss Chloros? She never mentioned that it's part of the job."

His eyebrows furrowed, "Never. I never eat with my staff, and it's not part of your job either."

"I'm flattered by the privilege, sir."

"You were pretty insistent and irritating, you wouldn't leave me alone," he chuckled, then concentrated on cutting the big flank of beef to thin strips.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so annoying."

The corner of his lips twisted in a little smile, then he put half of the steak on my plate.

I gave him a cheerful smile, and was returned with another penetrating look. We ate in silence, both of us were enjoying the food.

"This steak is really good," he said later on, breaking the silence.

"Of course. It took whole day for Mrs. Deary to prepare it. She wanted it to be the best beef steak that you've ever tasted in the whole world."

"Well, she did a great job on it."

I smiled at him again, beaming, while chewing the steak. I was so happy that finally, he ate.

He smiled back, and stared at me.

"If you keep on doing that, it would surely convince me that you're way younger than forty-five."

My goodness! I keep on forgetting that I'm supposed to be forty-five. I should stop beaming when I'm in front of him.

Pretending not to hear him, I took the glass of orange juice that he offered earlier, and sipped slowly.

"I saw a young woman at the servants' hall this morning. Who was that?"

His question caught me off guard. My eyes grew big, staring at him.

Oh no... so that confirmed my suspicion. He saw the real me this morning!

Darn it. I was so reckless. What should I do now?

He continued, when I did not answer, "long brown hair... fair skin. She was looking at the lake by the window. Do you know her?"

"I... I don't..."

"You don't know her? You should know who's coming in and out of the estate, Miss Rosi, that's part of your job," he shook his head disappointedly.

"Of course, sir. I know her," I said abruptly, my face burned with embarrassment for making another lie, "she's um... She's my niece. She... she lost the key to her flat, and she begged me last night, if she could sleep over for a night. I could not say no, I don't want anything to happen to her, especially that her parents are not here. They're on vacation in the Caribbean."

"Yeah, Mr. Rosi. That Caribbean vacation is his reward for being one of our most trusted employees," he nodded, "so that was his daughter."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry if I let her stay here without your permission. I hope you don't mind," I was holding my breath, and crossing my fingers together.

"Of course not," he smiled, then took a sip of water, "so, where is she now?"

"Um... she's back in her flat."

"And where is that?"

"In the city proper."

His dark eyebrows rose, "is she working?"

"Yes, she is," I diverted the topic, by telling him that the strawberries are ready to harvest, "you should see it, sir. The garden looks beautiful."

"Maybe tomorrow," he replied, then continued to ask, "where is she working?"

I sighed heavily. He would never stop asking, until I gave him all the answers he wanted. I looked at the food, we were still halfway in finishing them.

"She works as a researcher for a writer."

"Who's the writer?"

"Um, I really don't know. She said the research is very confidential. It involves the government."

"Did she go to university?"

I nodded, "she just graduated with a degree in history."

"Interesting. I'm sure, she's very smart."

I did not know if I should be flattered or not, since I was telling him some lies.

"And very pretty too," he smiled, his eyes were playful, "next time she visits, you should introduce us. I want to meet her."

My eyebrows rose immediately.

So, the interview is about the real me, and not about me as the housekeeper.

Typical guy with raging hormones, who wouldn't rest after seeing a woman they were curious to meet. I should have let this beast starve to death.

"I doubt if she'll come back, sir. She's very busy with her work."

"Does she have a boyfriend?"

My temper flared up at the question. Damn. He asked casually with no shame, like How's the weather today? What's for breakfast?

"Actually, she has, and they're engaged."

"What a pity," he said, looking genuinely disappointed, "by the way, what's her name?"

"Miss Rosi," I replied.

He chuckled, "I know. But I'm asking for her first name."

I wonder if I should give it to him? If I do not, he will call dad and ask him. I don't want that to happen, because dad will know where I am, and Mr. Kristov Stavrakos will find out that I'm in disguise. Poor aunt Jodie, if that happens.

"Pia. Pia Rosi," I answered, confident that he did not know my first name as his housekeeper. Anyways, he did not have the habit of remembering his staff's first names.

"So, you and your niece have the same first names?"

My mouth dropped open, merely stared at him, and tongue-tied.

Oh no. Now I'm dead meat.

_____

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