Making Home Ch. 08

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A slow burn M/F age gap romance.
5.7k words
4.66
4.3k
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Part 8 of the 11 part series

Updated 06/16/2023
Created 06/01/2022
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AVERY

I had no idea what last night had been all about. Mr. Crawford's cold demeanor at the end of bumping into each other in the kitchen was very off putting and did nothing to make me feel welcomed. Was he upset that I was making myself at home in his space? I had no idea what else it could be. As I sat and thought about it, my mind brought me to his hard body as it was pressed against mine. He sure did feel nice. And he may have been sweaty, but the smell of him hadn't been off-putting. The opposite, actually. I turned over in my new bed and studied the room around me. With my bags all unpacked and everything put into its proper place, the bedroom I had chosen didn't look much different than it had before. You couldn't call it cozy, but I could definitely say that it was where I wanted to be. With a contented sigh, I rose from my bed to get ready for the day.

The week went by pretty effortlessly. I had finished my finals and had contacted Grace on my free time. After a little phone tag, it was decided that I was going to shadow for a day next week, which would hopefully motivate her to write me the last reference letter I needed for medical school applications. I was already late as it was, and it looked like I might need to do a gap year. Which wouldn't be too much of an issue if I was working for Mr. Crawford. Caleb had thankfully left me alone, but that didn't make me feel too good. My mom wasn't answering my texts which meant she was either higher than a kite, dead, or Caleb had taken her phone from her. I tried not to dwell on it too much as I tried to settle into my new normal.

The weekend was approaching, which meant that Mr. Crawford would be home. We hadn't spent much time together in between my work-study nights and his late work nights. And thankfully we hadn't had many more run ins like the first night. On Friday morning, I received a text from him saying that he would be in time for dinner while asking me to join him. I had agreed, especially since the timing couldn't be better. The business party was on the 23rd and that date was fast approaching now that school was out for the holidays. I still needed a dress and shoes but didn't feel right asking just yet.

Now that it was finally the evening and I was home first, I decided to go explore a little bit and scope out the best spots for studying in the house. It felt strange walking around someone else's home. It was larger than any other house I had ever been in. Clyde was sitting at the island in the kitchen and seemed fully absorbed in a magazine while heat filled the room from some appliance that he was using to make dinner. Amanda sat next to him while swiping at the screen on her phone. They were both engrossed in what they were doing and hardly paid me any attention as I moved about. I wandered into the family room and noticed it was completely closed off from the rest of the house sans the door by the kitchen and a door to the balcony outside. The furniture looked comfy and inviting, and there weren't many distractions. I decided it would be my new space to hit the books.

As I was walking out, I took a turn down the hallway to the garage and noticed the laundry room door was open. I peeked in and noticed someone I hadn't met yet.

"Oh, hello," I offered.

The woman popped up, took one look at me, and resumed sorting laundry. "Hi." She turned away and didn't seem like she wanted to talk to anyone. I still didn't know her name, though. "I'm Avery. I don't believe I've met you yet."

"Amy." Again, she didn't turn around and continued folding laundry.

"Nice to meet you." I waited for her to say something. Anything. When she stayed silent, I left the room.

I decided to keep moving along and eventually found myself back in the extra bathroom upstairs. Admittedly, I was totally snooping by now. I perused the cupboards and found Epsom salts and scented oils. A bath sounded amazing. I filled the oversized tub and stripped down before climbing in. I could definitely get used to this. No one seemed to know where I was, and I just relished in the hot water as it relaxed my tense muscles. The heavy smell of lavender permeated the air, and I felt so comfortable that I was worried about dozing off. A little reluctantly, I climbed out of the tub and wrapped a towel around myself before walking back to my room. I threw on an old camisole and a pair of worn flannel shorts before I went downstairs for dinner. There were two place settings at the table when I came down. I took my place and Clyde walked over to take my wine glass and bring it to the spout of an open bottle.

My hand shot out to cover the top of the glass. "Oh. I can't drink. I'm not 21 yet."

He blinked a couple of times before wordlessly setting my glass back down on the table. He clicked his tongue and looked me over.

"That's cute." He scrunched up his face and rubbed my shoulder before sauntering off. "I think you'll be good for him."

"Good for Mr. Crawford?"

He nodded. "And good for the team, sweetie."

I followed him into the kitchen and took a seat on a stool at the bar. "I sure hope so. I'm really nervous about it all."

He smiled as he reached over to squeeze my hand. "I'll help you out. I'm sure Chloe will, too. She'll be by later next week to go over a few things with you." He turned and began pulling plates out before setting them on the counter. He moved gracefully around the kitchen and stooped to check something in the oven.

"Who's Chloe?"

"Mr. Crawford didn't tell you?" He donned an oven mitt and took out whatever he was baking. He walked back over and set it on potholders he had placed on the counter.

I shook my head. "No."

"Oh." He shrugged and started dishing food up onto the plates. "I'm sure he'll give you all of the details tonight." He gesticulated toward the dining room. "Now, shoo. I've a dinner to put together."

I resumed my spot at the table and sat quietly by myself. I didn't have to wait long before Mr. Crawford entered, dressed in slacks and a sweater with the sleeves rolled up along his arms. He looked wonderful as he confidently took his place at the head of the table. He didn't really look as old as he was, but it was obvious that he wasn't close to my age, either.

"I apologize if I kept you waiting. This has been a very busy week for us. A lot of my employees will be off for the holidays so we're trying to get ahead to compensate."

I smiled at him as he took inventory of the silverware set out. "No worries."

Mr. Crawford seemed to study me as we waited for dinner, his eyes roaming over me and making me a little uncomfortable. I rubbed at my arm, suddenly feeling goosebumps form all over my skin.

I swallowed and looked over at him. "Is something wrong?"

He jerked his head away to refocus on the stem of his wine glass. He clicked his tongue dismissively as he straightened the forks and knife. "No, nothing. Just tired."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

He forced a smile at me. "Such is life, hm?"

"C'est la vie. Oui."

His eyebrows rose and he assessed me. "Parlez vous francais?"

I coughed and laughed a little at the same time. "Uh, no. That's, like, the only thing I know how to say."

He surprised me with a smile and just hummed as he turned his attention to the entrance from the kitchen. Clyde walked in and set a plate down in front of each of us before returning to the bar and retrieving the bottle he had brought over earlier. He pulled Mr. Crawford's glass and expertly poured a portion.

"Thank you, Clyde. As usual the food smells wonderful."

"My pleasure, sir. I have to let you know that your little sober Sally declined the alcohol tonight. Caught me a bit off guard."

Mr. Crawford cocked a brow up at him. "Is that so?"

Clyde raised his eyebrows and nodded before walking back to the kitchen.

Mr. Crawford looked over to me, a small, relaxed smile on his face. "Good girl."

My breathing hitched, but before I could react, he turned his attention to his food. Clyde had prepared some type of fish with rice pilaf and vegetables. I followed in picking up my own napkin and utensils and began to cut into my meal.

"Did you get all unpacked and settled?"

"Yes. I finished everything on the first night."

"I see." He took a bite and chewed while he looked over his food before slicing up the fish into bite sized pieces. "Are you off from school for the holidays now?"

I nodded while chewing. "Yeah. I resigned from my work-study job, too, so I don't have to work at the library anymore."

"Good. I was going to speak to you about some training over your break. When do you plan on visiting your mother for Christmas?" He looked over at me before taking another bite.

I finger slipped on my knife and I had to reposition to resume cutting. I tried to fight down the anxiety bubbling up. Images of the text messages from Caleb flashed in my mind. A heavy swallow pierced the silence in my head, and I took a steadying breath before forking a bite of food.

"Uh, well, she's busy this year."

He picked up his glass but held it just before his lips. "Oh. I just thought since you spoke so fondly of her before that you had plans."

"Yeah, well, things change." I didn't offer anything more and didn't look over at him. I could feel his eyes on me, studying my composure as the air around me grew tense.

After a few moments he gave a solemn nod and began forking food. "Just as well. You have a lot to get done before the corporate Christmas party." He continued working at his meal without looking up at me. "I also wanted to be the one to inform you that you now have a company car in the garage. This one is all paid for and maintained by Amanda. You can sell your other one."

I coughed as I nearly inhaled a piece of fish. "Sell my car?"

He stopped and looked at me, his expression not surprised or amused, but more irritated. "Yes. Sell your vehicle. I have provided a different one for your use." He took a sip and set his glass down with a sigh. "Avery, I didn't want to have to put it like this, but your car is an eyesore and could easily tarnish my reputation. It has to go."

I scoffed. "That's your grand reason? I paid for that car all on my own! I've paid for the insurance and maintenance... you'd think some people might see that as commendable!"

He clenched his jaw, and I noticed a slight twitch. "It is more a reflection on how well I care for you."

It made sense what he was saying. But it also didn't. Were people really that shallow that they would judge him because of my car?

I straightened in my seat. "What if I took the bus?"

He shrugged. "That would be a little less safe, but it would probably come off as conservative and, how is it that you kids say these days, 'green', I believe?" He took a deep breath. "I honestly don't understand why you're so surprised. I mentioned this during the first interview."

I licked my lips as I tried to fight down my anger. "I'm not selling my car. That wasn't the agreement."

He took another bite of his food and spoke between chewing, "Fine. But it is not staying here, nor will you drive it again while you are under my employment. Is that understood?"

"But it'll fall into disrepair if it isn't driven! Then what will I do?"

"Which is precisely why you should just sell it. You can keep the company car. How does that sound?"

"I don't want that kind of debt."

"Consider it a gift. A tax write off for me."

"I don't want that kind of charity."

"Avery. This is non-negotiable. Take the car or resign. Now, would you like to keep your job?"

I could feel my face tensing as I fought down my emotions. My chest heaved and I felt like I might explode. It was so much worse that he was calm about it all. He didn't show any sign of being angry or even being dominant, yet I could feel the pressure of his decision. Closing my eyes, I clenched my fists in my lap and took a few deep and slow breaths. Finally, I felt relaxed enough to look over at him and nod.

"I need to hear your words, Avery."

A small incredulous laugh bubbled up from me. I began questioning how much I really wanted to be tied to him after all, but then I remembered Caleb and the money I had to get to him next week.

I shook my head but forced a whisper through my lips in an angry hiss, "I understand."

"You understand, what?"

More deep breaths. "I understand about the car."

"And who are you speaking to?"

He certainly wanted his pound of flesh. I gave him a fake sweet smile. "I understand about the car, Sir."

"Good girl." He resumed picking at his food. "One more thing, we're spending the weekend together. We need to get to know each other if this arrangement is to be successful."

The fact that he was able to return to his dinner so casually had me fuming. I focused on what he had said, and I thought back to the dinner with Jess and the others. "I have plans on Saturday night."

He stopped eating and looked over at me. "What sort of plans?"

"With my old roommates. We are having dinner together."

"Female roommates?"

I felt my brows pull together as I tried to make sense of his strange question. "Well, yeah, we're all women... Why should that matter?"

He grunted and turned his attention back to his food. "Because we have an image to protect, that's why. It wouldn't look good if you've promised yourself to me and instead you were hanging out with a bunch of guys."

Again, he made sense. But would it really kill him to ask a little nicer? I was so irritated that I found myself wanting to defy him, just out of spite. Yet again, I thought back to how much I needed the money and fought down a snarky comment. "I promise, all girls. But other than tomorrow night, I'm free."

"Very well. We will spend the day together and I'll accompany you to the dinner."

A piece of food struggled going down and I tried to smooth out the discomfort with fingers pressed against my throat. "Um, you don't have to do that."

"Don't be silly. It would be my pleasure. It'll also give us an opportunity to work on our public image."

"There might be one little problem, though."

"Now what?"

"My roommates think I work for you."

He chuckled. "That's easily rectified." He wiped his face with his napkin before pushing away from the table. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work to finish up." He walked by me but paused. "Oh, one more thing." He walked back over to me, and his fingers gently traced my jaw as he urged me to turn up to him. He pressed his lips to my forehead, and I felt the anger I had been holding onto dissipate into the air. "You're going to have to get used to some level of physical contact with me. We should probably start now. Just so it doesn't seem awkward in the public eye."

My head was spinning, and everything felt light and foggy. "Start? Now?"

He smirked. "Yes, start now. It'll be small things. Well, goodnight." He turned and left me once more but stopped on the staircase. "Oh, Chloe has agreed to take you shopping for me. I thought it would be best if she helped you dress the part of professional homemaker, as well as help you find some warmer pajamas. And, before you can object, I'm paying for these clothes. It'll be an advance on your clothing allowance. She's flying into the metro next week." He finished climbing the stairs and I still hadn't fully registered everything he had said to me. My head was spinning so fast that I didn't know what to make of our encounter. The only thing I could focus on was the feel of his lips pressed to my skin.

The next morning, I went downstairs to find Mr. Crawford at the breakfast table. A steaming cup of coffee was in front of him, and he swiped on the tablet that I was quickly beginning to associate him with. He was dressed in a large navy blue robe with a gray cotton t-shirt, flannel pants, and slippers. I could see why he wanted me to get warmer pajamas. He was dressed to the nines in formal sleepwear. There wasn't a piece of clothing that matched between us.

"Good morning," I squeaked as I crept toward the table.

He looked up at me and stood. "Good morning, Avery." He began to slide his arms from his robe. "Here," he draped the material around my shoulders before I could protest.

"Um, thanks." I pulled it around me and sat down in the seat next to his. It was still warm from his body heat, and it smelled divine. I fought the urge to bring it around my face and inhale deeply.

"How did you sleep?"

"Just fine. The bed needs a little getting used to."

"Is the mattress the wrong level of firmness? We can replace it if you'd like."

I giggled. "Oh, no, not at all. It's just that my last mattress was basically springs and my mattress before that, well, it wasn't really a mattress." I began adding cream and sugar to my coffee and noticed him watching me, waiting for me to elaborate. I shrugged. "So, when is Chloe getting in, again?"

He blinked a few times and looked down at his watch as it buzzed. "Tuesday. We'll go pick her up together. Maybe catch dinner somewhere."

"Cool. Will she know about our arrangement?"

He pushed back from the table and stood while pressing the screen on his watch interface. "What do you mean?"

I played with the napkin ring around the napkin on my plate. "I guess, who am I supposed to be around her? Does she know about the contract I signed? Should she?"

He grabbed his mug and took a large drink. "No, she doesn't know about the contract. I think it would be best if only employees at the house knew of our arrangement. Chloe is a bit sensitive to my... ventures."

"Okay. So, what do I tell her if she asks about us?"

He shrugged. "Tell her the truth, just leave the business part out of it."

"You want me to tell her that we met through a want ad, you took me to dinner, and you offered me to move in with you?"

He chuckled. "Well, not quite like that. But it can sound realistic if you just bend the truth a bit."

"Okay, like how?"

He grunted, clearly annoyed, his watch buzzing again. "Avery, you're going to have to get good at stretching stories if you want this to work." He sighed before pressing on his screen a few more times. "You needed a place to stay because of school and circumstances that you are uncomfortable discussing. I offered you my spare bedroom while we were at dinner. You were reluctant, I was persistent and pushed you to take it. She won't need convincing of that. We're still taking it slow, hence why we aren't sharing a room. This way she won't question why we're not rooming together if she stays over."

I hung my head a little. He was disappointed in my capabilities already. I knew it was only a matter of time. "That sounds kind of weird to me, but I guess it could work. I still don't know a lot about you, though. Should I? I mean, how are we going to convince people that we're together?"

He sighed and leaned on the back of his chair. "We will begin to rectify that this weekend. Is there anything else you need to know? Something has come up."

I tried to fight down that little demon of irritation that gnawed at my patience once more. I swallowed down my pride. "No, Sir."

"Good." He leaned in to kiss me like he had last night and turned to walk upstairs. "I'll see you around lunch. Try to occupy yourself until then. I'll be in my office if you need me, just shoot me a text."

"Yes, Sir."

After he left, I stuck around the breakfast area while Clyde spoiled me rotten. When he was convinced that I was filled to the max ("We need to put some meat on those bones.") he dismissed me as he usually did when he was through. I wandered back up the stairs, debating whether I should take a nap or figure out my books for the next term. When I got to the landing, the housekeeper walked out of the double doors to Mr. Crawford's suite while buttoning the top few buttons of her blouse. When she noticed me, she smirked knowingly and then brushed by me to go downstairs. I rushed into my room and closed the door behind, unsure of why I had felt so rejected.

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