Will You Listen?

It seemed that my relationship with Jack improved over the last few days. Whether it be due to me helping him out or he just started to open up more as we get to know each other, I really don't know. But Mrs. Nichols was right about one thing though. It is easy to get along with him. As long as everything happens according to his wishes. However, at least he is not as insufferable as he seemed to be at the beginning. He still gets on my nerves sometimes and he still keeps pestering me about that damned cat. He seems to not understand that if I had any idea how to break it to his father that their household is getting a new member I would have done it by now.

Truth be told, I really do want to help him. I'm telling myself it's because I have a helpful nature. I always help when I can and there's someone who needs it. And I just don't want to see him suffer. I bet it's...

"Hey, do you happen to know if my father we'll be back for dinner or will he eat out with potential business partners?"

Jack barged in suddenly in the middle of my thought process, distracting me. He stood there in the doorway looking straight at me. He is wearing a T-shirt above his jeans which is extremely unusual since as far as I know, he prefers to wear shirts. And I have to agree with that decision since shirts suit him better. This one is just too loose, not because the size is too big but because it was designed that way. If he were to do a headstand wearing that it would easily fall back down on his head revealing his chest.

"He doesn't tell me his schedule. But he would have said if he wasn't, don't you think?" I glanced at him and pretended to write something down as if I was too busy. If I am lucky, he'll leave. "I mean, at least Mrs. Nichols would know, since she needs to know how much food she is required to cook for dinner," I told him but he just continued to look at me as if he was waiting for me to say more. But how the hell could one say anything if his hair is too distracting? A thin lock of it is still above his eyes, almost touching his nose bridge. Doesn't it tickle him? It would tickle me if I were him. I suddenly had the urge to get up and sweep that lock of hair away.

"Are you even listening?" He asked suddenly.

I need to get a grip.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't." I figured it was better to tell the truth but it still made him snort.

"At least you are honest. But it won't do you any good if you continue to behave like that," he said wickedly which instantly made my blood pressure rise. I stood up suddenly and walked up to him.

"Like what?"

"If you don't listen when others speak to you. Especially if it's me talking," he said angrily and took a step towards me.

"Sorry. This is what you wanted to hear, right? Well, I am sorry. I suppose your thoughts never wandered off in the middle of a conversation, so you cannot imagine how one can do such a disrespectful thing." I felt my voice getting louder with every word, so I had to remind myself not to shout. I don't want to fight with anyone, especially him.

"On the contrary," he said calmly and put his hands in his pockets. "But you know... The other person might feel as if he means nothing as if he isn't even worth the effort to listen to," he said with a sad face.

"That's because you are used to ordering people around and that people will listen to your every word as if their life depended on them. Well, not your friends of course but people you deem to be in a lower status than you are," I told him earnestly and went back to my desk. I tried to busy myself with organizing the papers on it as if I was just tidying up the mess. But the truth is, I no longer wanted to face him.

"That's not true," he said. He was clearly hurt, I could hear it in his voice.

"Doesn't matter even if it is," I told him bluntly, turning to face him again. "Don't worry, I try to figure everything out as quickly as I can and leave, so you won't have to bear with me."

Funnily enough, I realized now I am the one, who is hurt.

"You rather want to go back to your sad little life?" His voice was perfectly normal when asking me, not even a hint of scorn could be heard in it. But the choice of words was just too bad. I felt something snap in me just like on that day when I taught his classmate a lesson after talking back to me. I turned back in a fit of anger.

"Why not? Do you think it's such a joy to be bossed around by a brat, who will earn at least a hundred times more than I do, and thus can never fathom what goes on in ordinary people's minds?" I took a few steps forward to shorten the space between us. To my surprise, he didn't move an inch to avoid me. "Have you ever thought about what it feels like to be at the beck and call of someone? Well, I did. And for the record, I don't think that you'll be a bad CEO. You just need to be more emphatic towards others. If you did so, perhaps your previous assistant wouldn't have resigned."

"But then I wouldn't have met you," he said in a low voice.

"Maybe it would have been for the best." 

I don't know what made me say what I said. I don't even mean it. I regretted it the moment I said it. But I cannot take it back now. I wish I could.

I looked at him immediately but I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I cannot see his eyes, since he is looking downward and both his hair and his eyelashes cover his eyes. He is giving off a sad aura now but even in his sadness, he looks so, so handsome. I'm not sure when he started to bewitch me but I have to admit that he is just too captivating standing there without even doing anything.

"I only said that if my father has a meeting maybe we could eat out at a restaurant or something for a change," he said in an even lower voice than before. And even though he cleared his throat before speaking, his voice still sounded hoarse as if he had been shouting for hours before.

His suggestion surprised me and immediately made me feel like a jerk for not listening and missing him saying it.

"Good idea. This way, we also save the trouble for Mrs. Nichols to cook for us, so she can have the rest of the day free to do what she wants."

"Yeah, that too," was his only answer but he still avoided eye contact and looked past me. "I'll ask Emma whether dad is coming home and I'll inform you later." And with that, he just turned around and left. He closed the door behind him so silently that even a leaf falling off a tree was noisier than that.

After he left, my first thought was who is this Emma he talked about then I realized it could only be Mrs. Nichols' first name. Which it seems I completely forgot after she first introduced herself to me. It kinda feels awkward but at least she doesn't know it.

However, there's something that bothers me even more. If he really was hurt by my behavior, why didn't he tell me so? Why does he expect me to guess it? I'm not a mind-reader. If I had known how much it would hurt him, I would have listened.

Wait a minute... Now that I think about it, the reason why I didn't hear what he was saying is because I was thinking about him. So basically, he was angry at himself because he was the object of distraction which distracted me from listening to him. This makes me feel slightly better now.

But when I think about those eyes...

No, I cannot do this anymore. I really do need to get a grip. Otherwise, I may do or say something I'll regret for the rest of my life.