Chapter 14

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Calla Stewart's POV

I leisurely padded into the kitchen after waking up for the day. As my days away from work increased, I had developed the habit of sleeping in until around 11, sometimes even noon. I was beginning to feel somewhat purposeless after being away from work for over a week. With that, came the feeling of underlying disgustingness. It was hard to explain, but staying at home doing nothing made me feel gross.

Raising my arms above my head I did my usual morning stretch, causing my pajama shirt to rise, and exposing my not-so-flat belly. I was still in half-asleep mode, but my usual habits remained, meaning I immediately opened the fridge to look for something to eat.

I was deep into my evaluation of the contents of my fridge. Margarine, milk, eggs... Omelet for breakfast? Or was it lunch? My meal planning was abruptly halted, however, when the sound of a throat clearing was heard from the living room.

My head snapped to the source of the noise and my eyes immediately landed on my boss. He sat extremely proper and clearly wasn't sure where to look. Afterall, I was currently far from appropriately dressed to see him.  There was the old Mickey Mouse t-shirt on top and questionably short pajama shorts on the bottom. He eventually settled on my face rather than my outfit, or perhaps whatever intimate object was behind it.

All I could think to do was to continue to stand like an idiot, blinking at him. Why couldn't I ever see him without embarrassing myself? 

Mr. King cleared his throat awkwardly once again, "Sorry to barge in, I called you and left a message that I was coming..." he said.

My arms instinctively crossed over my braless chest, Mr. King did not need to see anything more today. In an embarrassed panic, I awkwardly shuffled to the side in order to hide my legs behind the kitchen island. "I um... sorry I didn't look at my phone," I managed to let out.

I shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably while my boss appeared amused. "I can see that," he seemed to tease, making a point to look at my clothing again. 

My stomach twisted, I hoped Mr. King wasn't upset with me. The only response I could muster was a glance at the ground and the reddening of my cheeks.  "Why don't you go change and then we'll talk?" he suggested. 

I gave a sharp nod and darted off to my current room to change. I tried to change as quickly as possible, resulting in a pair of jeans with a zip-up sweater, and of course, a bra. Overall, not even close to what I would wear to work. I left my hair in the mess of a bun I had slept on and made my way back out to see Mr. King. 

He had relaxed into the couch a bit more while I was changing but sat up again when he saw me. I sat down on the seat across from him and prepared to apologize again, but Mr. King spoke before I could, "Don't bother apologizing, it's not an issue," he stated, attempting to ease my anxiety. 

I shut my mouth and waited for him to speak again, "I came here to let you know you'll start work again this week," he stated, "but things are going to be different."

I gave a confused frown and he continued, "From now on you will continue to be picked up by me to go to work. You will wait for me to take you home after work, and you will not go anywhere else without notifying me," he listed, "I know it seems like a lot, but the fact is that your father knows about you and we need to act accordingly."

He stared at me waiting for my reaction, but the mention of my father had me worrying. I was unsure how much Mr. King would really be able to do in terms of protection. He was only one man, and my father had people in many places who he could command to do almost anything. When I was young, many people who surrounded me would be involved in "accidents", I didn't want the same thing to happen to my boss, even if he was a scary person to be around. 

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