The Perfect Scandal

Chapter Nine

A week flew by since the afternoon that I safe-worded Mallory. She seemed casual when she was around me, light conversation always in the air unless she had a meeting, or too much paper work. If there was a meeting scheduled, she would either have me wait outside the office, or sit me in the back with some files to alphabetize. When she had paperwork, Mallory would tell me to proofread each document twice at a minimum. It was a simple job, and so far, she hadn't pushed my buttons. Honestly, Mallory Morgan was a decent person, minus the egotistical and self-absorbed side of her.

I hadn't told anyone of my new "job", not even Kalob. I continued to tell my parents that I was working at the coffee shop, and that every morning I missed her calls, we were too busy for me to take a break.

I felt bad for lying, but I had no clue how I would even begin to explain that I was a "pet" to Mallory Morgan, wife of Governor Morgan, and on the weekdays, I spent time in her office doing minuscule tasks like an intern. How could I rationally explain that I called this woman, this state-wide idol, Mistress whenever I was in her presence? There was no logical way of doing so, so I stuck with the simple way and lied.

Quietly setting down the papers in my hand, I glanced up at Mallory, noting that she looked tired, more tired than usual. The circles underneath her eyes were hardly covered with makeup, and her eyelids slightly drooped as she read each line of words. I wondered why she looked that way.

Could she just not sleep? Was she stressed? Where there problems at home with her husband? Did she have nightmares that prevented her from sleeping?

"What are you staring at, Miss Holland?"

Snapping out of my daze, I looked into Mallory's eyes, noticing how they sparkled with mirth. "You just, look tired," I replied, tilting my head to the left to get a better look.

Mallory took off her reading glasses, setting them on the desk. A smile formed at one corner of her mouth as she watched me. I could feel her eyes tracing all over my face, mapping out each contour and crevice of my face. "I am," she finally said.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off and go back to sleep?"

"Because I have a job to do."

"It can wait until you're rested."

The older woman glared at me, her eyebrow raised in challenge. "And who made you my boss?"

I realized my mistake immediately. "No one, I'm sorry, Miss."

She seemed pleased as she looked at me once more before turning her attention back to the task at hand. I did the same. We continued in this routine until Mallory spoke up yet again.

"Go home."

"What?" I asked.

The brunette repeated herself. "Go home, Esme. Do whatever you need to do. I'll call you later if I really need you. So go."

She didn't have to tell me twice. I neatly placed my stack of papers on the desk, followed by the black pen I was using to make corrections, and practically skipped out of the office building and to my car. I was sure I looked ridiculous: a grown woman just frolicking down the street like a gleeful child.

Still, though, I couldn't help but worry about Mallory. I hoped she would take the day off, maybe go home and nap, but I couldn't tell her what to do. I wasn't her boss, her wife, her anything; just her pet, which meant I had no say.

I drove back to my apartment. I couldn't go to Kalob's because I was technically still working at the coffee shop, at least that's what he thought. When I got home, I began cleaning. The apartment was an absolute mess. Clothes were scattered, dishes (mainly cups) were stacked by the sink, and I was out of all normal food and toilet paper. Good.