The Billionaire's Maid in Disguise

Nineteen - "Please don't call her, sir."

Chapter Nineteen

Kristov's POV

Monday morning, I arrived in the office, feeling grumpy. It started in the dining room. I asked the maid why she was the one serving me breakfast when it was Miss Rosi's job, now that Miss Chloros was gone.

"She hasn't returned yet, sir," the maid stuttered.

I looked at my watch, it was eight in the morning, "isn't her work starting at seven?"

"Yes, sir. She called and said she'll be late. Her car won't start."

The usual employee's excuse. Either trapped in a traffic or the car broke down.

"Then she should have taken a cab."

"She knows you're going to say that, sir. So, she asked to tell you that she can't leave her car behind. It's an extension of her life, like her phone."

What kind of excuse is that!

"Give her number to Jack, so he can send a mechanic," I grunted, then dismissed her.

Later, I asked Jack if he called Miss Rosi,

"I did sir, several times, but she didn't answer my calls."

I grunted irritably. This aunt and niece duo is giving me a headache.

I slammed my pen on the desk. I could not stop thinking of Pia Rosi since last night. I'm so distracted that I could not focus on my work.

Last night, I called her but she did not answer. I also texted her, but she did not reply. I waited to call her after twenty four hours, so I would not sound so eager, but this is what I got.

Damn that girl for ignoring me.

If she's trying to play hard to get, then I'm not the kind of man who chases a woman. It's always the other way around.

I leaned my back against my seat, clasping my hands together.

At least, she should have the decency to answer the phone. Ignoring one's call and text messages is rude, unprofessional... and inconsiderate!

I closed my eyes, trying to put myself into her place. Maybe she lost her phone. Maybe there was a problem in transmitting calls and messages. Mr. Park mentioned that that's one of their problems lately. Or maybe... she meant what she said, that she doesn't date someone like me, and doesn't want to entertain me.

I opened my eyes and let out a groan of frustration.

Damn her. If I'm not her type, then who cares! It's her loss not mine. There are plenty of girls who are dying to date me. From young celebrities, super models, heiresses and princesses in the whole world. All I have to do is text, and they'll come running in haste.

I took a document and studied it, but I could not concentrate. Fuck! Who am I kidding? I don't want anyone else, I want her!

I tried to call her again, and she did not answer. I groaned aloud, and tossed my phone on the desk.

A young woman entered, bringing a cup of coffee. She was wearing a red business suit, with a very low neckline. Her red lips widened in a smile, the moment our eyes met.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Vivian, sir. I'm the new intern," she walked towards me, very slowly, trying not to spill the coffee she was holding.

Damn, Mr. Penn for not being careful in choosing interns again.

"I didn't ask for coffee," I said firmly, then she pouted. That look was very familiar already, a lot of women used it on me.