To Be Yours Again

“You speak English?” He asked, willing her to speak. “What’s your name?” She frowned, looking at him like he was an idiot. Hadn’t she been communicating with him in English few seconds ago. “Yes. I speak English. My name is Danica Diaz. I have been in your apartment since ten o’clock this morning.” Wow. She really did speak English and she had no sign of being mute. “Right. Well. How do you do, Danica. My name is...Lorenzo...Enzo for short.” She gave him a brief nod, and for a moment he thought she might curtsy, but she stood still, grasping the broom and stripping him naked with her anxious gaze. Suddenly he felt like the walls of the hallway were closing in and suffocating him. He wanted to flee from this stranger and her soul-searching eyes. “Well, good to meet you, Danica. You’d better get on and clean, then.” As an afterthought, he added, “In fact, you can change the sheets on my bed.” He waved in the general direction of his bedroom. “You know where the linen is kept, don’t you?” She nodded again but still didn’t move. “I’m going to the gym,” He muttered, though wondering why he was explaining himself to her. As he stalked back down the hallway toward his bedroom, Danica wilted against the broom and took a deep, relieved breath. She watched the flex and pull of the muscles on his back, right down to the two dimples that show just above the waistband of his jeans. It was a distracting sight, very distracting. He was even more distracting upright than when he was lying down. He disappeared into his room and she closed her eyes, her heart sinking. He didn’t ask her to leave, but he may call the agency and ask them to find someone else to clean his place. He seemed so cross that she had disturbed him, and then he became angrier still. Why? Danica frowned and tried to quell her rising panic as she glanced into the living room at the piano. No. That cannot happen. She will beg him to let her stay if she must. She didn’t want to leave. She couldn’t leave. The piano was her one source of escape. Her only happiness. And then there was the boss himself. His honed stomach, his bare feet, and his intense eyes seared her imagination. He had the face of an angel, the body of...well...She blushed. She should not think of such things. He was so handsome. No. Stop. Concentrate. With frantic strokes she continued to sweep the wooden floor of nonexistent dirt. She will have to be the best cleaner he’s ever had, so he won’t want to replace her.

With her mind resolved, she went into the living room to sweep, tidy, and polish. Ten minutes later she heard the front door slam as she finished plumping the black cushions on the L-shaped couch. Good. He has gone. She went straight to his bedroom to strip the bed. The room was untidy as usual, clothes and strange cuffs on the floor, curtains half open, and the bedding a tangled mess, but she collected all the clothes and strips the bed quickly. She wondered why there was a wide silk ribbon tied to the headboard but unwinded it and placed it on his nightstand next to the cuffs. As she threw a clean white sheet on the bed, she wondered what these items were for. She had no idea and didn’t want to hazard a guess. She made the rest of the bed, then ventures into his bathroom to clean.

---

Lorenzo ran like he had never ran before. He completed his five miles on the treadmill in record time, but he couldn’t stop playing the conversation with the new cleaner in his mind. Damn it! He bent down and placed his hands on my knees, trying to catch his breath. I am running from his fucking cleaner, whatever she calls herself, escaping from her big brown eyes. No. He was running from his reaction to her. Those eyes were going to haunt him for the rest of the day. Standing, he wiped the sweat from his brow, and a vision of her in that headscarf on her knees in front of him came unwelcome to his mind. His body clenches. Again. And this was just at the thought of her. Fuck. Angrily, he rubbed the sweat off his face with a towel and decided to do some weights. Yes. That should get her out of his mind. He pick up two of the heavier dumbbells and start hid routine. Of course, doing weights gave him space to think. In all honesty, he was confused by his reaction to her. He couldn’t remember meeting anyone who’s had that kind of effect on him. Perhaps it was stress.

Yes. That’s the most logical explanation. He was stressed out working at Moretti Group. Lorenzo pushed all thoughts of the cleaner out of hid mind as he concentrated on hid workout and counted through his biceps curls. He also needed to go meet up with her father at noon. Danica was in the laundry room moving wet clothes into the dryer when she heard the front door slam again. No! He was back. Glad that she was hidden away in the smallest room in the apartment, she set up the ironing board and started ironing the few clothes that are ready. Surely he would not come in here. When she finished the fifth shirt, she heard the door slam again, and she knew that she was on her own once more. It irked her that he had not shouted a good-bye like he did when he thought she was Ximena, but she shook off the feeling and finished the ironing as quickly as she could. Once done, she went to check his bedroom to see if he had left it in a mess. Sure enough, his gym clothes were scattered on the floor. Gingerly, she picked up each item. They were all damp with his sweat, but to her surprise she didn’t find this as repellent as she did before she met him. She placed the items in his laundry basket and checked the bathroom. The fresh, clean scent of his soap hung in the air. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, and suddenly she was transported back to the tall evergreens that surrounded the orphanage home. She savored the fragrance, ignoring her pang of loneliness. Danica wiped down the sink and was finished with half an hour to spare. She ran straight to the living room and sat down in front of the piano. As her fingers caressed the keys, the strains of Bach’s Prelude in C-sharp Major fill the apartment, the notes dancing in vibrant colors into the corners of the room and soothing her troubled and lonely soul.