Love between Maid and Master

"I've hurt my back. Come back and cover for me for a month. You'll get to work with a charming guy and earn money, a treat for both your eyes and your wallet."

On the other end of the phone, my mom mixed command and temptation. Once she used this strategy, it meant her mind was made up, and there was no turning back. With just over a month until my next paper submission, I had no choice but to obey her and book a ticket home.

My mom was a domestic service worker who loved her job immensely. She was an elite in her field and she was quite fond of it.

I looked over the tasks and preferences she had noted down for her job. "Aren't you worried I'll make a mess?" I asked.

"You've been learning everything you need. Just relax."

I recalled all those winter and summer breaks when she coaxed me into doing housework at home, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. If I hadn't pursued my studies all the way to graduate school, she would have surely groomed me as her successor.

The next morning, after countless reminders from my mom, I set out.

The remarkable employer my mom mentioned was named Simon Gates, who lived in a villa in the university's prestigious faculty housing area. It was said that his parents were university professors who spent most of their time abroad for academic exchanges, while he stayed in the country to help his uncle manage a company.

I arrived right at six, quietly opened the door. I changed into slippers, and tiptoed inside to the kitchen and start my work.

By nearly seven, breakfast was ready.

As I walked into the living room, I noticed wine bottles and glasses on the table. I cleaned and placed them in the wine cabinet.

Feeling a bit tired after tidying up, I sat on the sofa and scrolled through my phone as a rest.

By 7:40, Simon still hadn't come downstairs for breakfast, so I sent my mom a message saying, "He hasn't come down for breakfast yet. What should I do?"

Mom quickly replied, "Mr. Gates rarely does this. If it's past eight, remind him gently. If you're hungry, feel free to eat first."

After eating, I noticed it was already past eight, so I called out by the stairs, "Mr. Gates, breakfast is ready! Or you'll be late!"

......

I called several times but got no response. Tentatively, I climbed a few steps and called again, still no answer.

Suddenly, I thought he might be sick since he lived alone, so I went upstairs.

Turning a corner, I bumped into someone, and the scent of shower gel mixed with a hint of alcohol filled my nose. I looked up to see a handsome, refined face, followed by a sexy neck and perfect abs. Oh my! A real-life Adonis, and he was standing in front of me with just a towel wrapped around him!

"I'm... I'm sorry," I stammered, stepping back, without noticing the stairs behind me.

"Watch out!"

Instinctively, I reached out to grab something, and ended up grabbing his towel!

Wow. He was truly a treasure! I was mortified.

I realized he had already reached out to catch me, pulling me around to face away from him. "Are you Lily Yates, Liz's daughter?"

"Yes, I'm sorry about that..."

I felt my mind buzzing as he picked up the towel.

"You can go back to your work."

Before I could fully process what happened, he was calm and composed, as if nothing had occurred.

Mechanically, I went downstairs and only came to my senses in the living room. Shit, I was in trouble!

I could already picture my mom's furious, disappointed expression. Damn!

"Let's eat," Simon said as he descended the stairs with elegant presence.

A true gentleman, with an air of grace and sophistication. Looking at him, those words naturally came to mind.

"Ms. Yates, is there a problem?"

"I'll get right on it!" His question snapped me back to reality, and I rushed to the kitchen to serve the breakfast.

He gently pulled out a chair, sat down, and took a sip of the orange juice.

The next second, he spat it all out. Was he starting to take revenge on me? I had heard that people who seemed gentle on the outside could be quite dark inside.

"Water," he said.

I quickly poured him a glass of water and noticed his pained expression.

"Mr. Gates, are you okay? What can I do?"

"My bedroom, bedside table, there's medicine."

I immediately ran upstairs, entering the bedroom. I retrieved the medicine he mentioned, and hurried back down to hand it to him. "Will it work? Should we go to the hospital?"

He waved his hand, indicating it would be unnecessary.

"Should I help you to the sofa to lie down for a bit?"

He didn't answer, so I took it as consent and helped him to the sofa.

"Mr. Gates, What's bothering you? Maybe I can make something easily-digestible for you."

"Stomachache, soup will do."

"Alright, please wait a moment."