Reality hasn't had a way of setting in until it slaps you faster than you can say bow peep.

-THEO

Caleb Parks' POV

Jacob, Jack, Shawn, and I are in the penthouse's gym. I'm running on the mills with Shawn; Jack is doing sit-ups while Jacob is working with some dumbbells.

Our usual banter deviates from talking about the brunette with blonde highlights that came in here not less than twenty-fours ago and has wreaked more havoc than a volcano in Hawaii.

"If I knew that computers do no justice to people's appearances, I would have upped my game before that girl came here," Jacob grunted as he dropped a dumbbell and rested his arms on his knees.

"I doubt you have a chance at her. She walked in with your pants on your ankles and our ex-maid on her knees." Jack completed a seat up and went back down to start another one.

"I can always work my magic and Balaam; we will be hearing her moans in the deepest ends of the pacific."

Jack snorted at that, "The only thing that the fishes of the pacific will hear is the drums which will play in the burial of your penis. You didn't even get to woo her with your magical wording before she set the record straight with her boots."

Shawn let out a laugh at that.

Jacob's expression went sour. Then a sly smile crossed his face, "You know that all is fair in love and war."

"You don't even know what the hell love is? even if it came here dressed as a naked chick in handcuffs."

I stopped running and got down from the treadmill. "Speaking of chicks. Jacob, please stay away from the new maid." I say with exasperation, "It's a miracle that none of the ones I had to get rid off hasn't come back to get her second end of the straw because of you."

"It's not like they will sneak in here one night, cut off our male parts and go ahead and kidnap Marci and Abigail, then sell it all to the highest bidder," Jacob responds with an eye roll.

I sigh irritably, "My point exactly. The last thing I need is some offhand scene from the crush movie. And Marcel does not support dating between employees, but in your case, dating does not matter."

Jacob held up his hands in mock surrender, "Fine. I'll back off after I handle a smart-mouthed girl in the kitchen."

"You never told me what you did to this girl that made her send flames your way when you came in last night." Jack directed at me.

Honestly, I have no clue. I walked in from CD signing; the tension in the room was thick as Peyton froze me over with a glare before marching up the stairs after dinner.

Shawn got off his treadmill and clicked his neck, "Seriously, bro, lay off her. I want to be an uncle one day. And I will not want to explain to my future niece and nephews why they are bubble babies, and their father has been eating from a straw long before they were born." His face shouted amused, but there was some seriousness in his tone.

"Why do you only want one niece and so many nephews?" I ask our quiet friend.

"Trusting my idiot brother, he wants a football team, and since he is so lazy. I'm pretty sure he will only have the energy for two women in his life. That's if he can nap the first one." He snorted the last part with a shrug.

Jacob got up with a playful yet annoyed tone and said, "What is this? Take cheap jabs on Jacob day."

"Seems we have been celebrating this all year long," I add with a laugh.

"Haha, very funny," Jacob said as he made his way to the exit. We trailed behind him and the morning banter was back on track.

The gym is located in the hall of activities, we've got the arcade, indoor swimming pool and music room. The hall was opposite the elevator. The dining room that we barely use was at the end of it.

The sight in the dining room was a sight for sore eyes. I tuned out the friends around me and focused my gaze on the spitfire in front of me.

Dressed in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, Peyton had her hair in a knot on her head. Flour covered her cheeks as she smiled like she had no care in the wall.

She was making conversation with Gail while making sure she had breakfast.

The sights made me wonder if this is what it feels like to come down the stairs in the morning. And see your child and wife having breakfast. Surprisingly, Peyton would fit that role. Sure being my wife was a bit far-fetched, considering she is staring death in my direction.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Apparently, the guys felt that the moment was private. In other words, they left me rooted to my spot while they went up the stairs.

"You can stop staring. It's not a crime to see an angel in your home at seven in the morning." She turned her attention back to Gail, who now noticed my presence.

I closed the distance between us as my sister got up and threw herself into my arms.

"NO! You're going to cover her with sweat." Peyton looked at us with a horrified expression.

I grinned and hugged her tighter. Soon I released her, and she went back to meet Peyton. Peyton sent Abigail towards the stairs as she sniffed the air, "Meet Marci whether she can remedy this situation."

She packed up the plates that Abigail used to eat, blatantly ignoring me and heading for the kitchen.

"I don't get why you are angry at me here," I say.

"Being in your presence is bad enough." She called over her shoulder. She dropped the dishes in the sink and began doing them.

"It's not like you have a choice. I employed you to work and not act like a spoiled brat." I hate to play this card, but she has left me no choice.

I saw her eyes widen in anger with the help of the glass mirror cabinet above the sink. But she didn't turn around just yet.

"So, are you going to talk? Or am I going to have to get you your own sitter?" I cocked a brow haughtily, silently daring to call me out on my bluff.

She had finished the dishes and was now drying her hands with a dishtowel. When she was finished, she turned around just to throw the towel at my face and offer me a fake smile.

She almost got the chance to walk off, but I gripped her wrist and pinned her to the sink, perfectly cornering her.

"For a musician, your breath sure stinks." She calls out halfheartedly.

I almost fell for her trick, but I offered her a not amused smile. "In layman's language, I will ask again. Why are you so mad at me?"

"Isn't it obvious? I have to spend the next couple of months listening to you trying to sing better than a walrus." She examined her nails.

I was shocked by her wording of my voice description; surely she can't hate my music that bad.

"You have no idea." She glanced up at me for a second before turning her focus to the black claws that were her square focus. It seems that she is a mind reader too.

I don't know what got into me, but I pressed her closer to the counter. The distance was far from being the employer-employee relationship I was going for.

She moved her head to look at me. Since she is good at reading facial expressions, she won't have trouble reading mine.

"If you plan on making me dislocate my spine, I will claw out that stupid heart that some dumb girls want as a birthday gift, and then I will sell it on Pinterest to the highest bidder." She says with narrowed eyes.

"If I sing for you, you won't be having those same thoughts," I whisper to be sure that only she hears me.

"And why will I want to be deaf prematurely?" She looked at me as if I off-loaded a kilogram of cocaine into my system.

I stared into her silver-blue eyes. Suddenly I was curious about how those eyes would look if they rolled backwards? Or how her razor-sharp tongue would feel if I tamed it? I moved my head closer, ready to silence her insults, and she held her breath, silently daring me.

Of course, like cliché movies, Marci walked in with Gail.

"Whoa, whoa whoa!" Marci's hands covered Abigail's eyes as she giggled.

"Count yourself lucky that a child is in the vicinity." Peyton's eyes narrowed into slits. They reminded me of a thunderstorm about to begin as the silver part of her eyes became more profound.

"Now I suggest you get your paws off me. Or I will hang you higher than anyone has ever hung mistletoe."

-

The sound vibrated around the soundproof box. Marcel threw the headphones from his ear as if they burnt him, the annoyance clear on his face.

"What the hell, boy?! How did you go off-key and tone in the song you sang back in Bahamas bloody weeks ago?" Again I will remind you that he is a bloodhound.

"Everyone take five." Jack saved me the embarrassment that was sure to unfold.

As everyone left, I hung the headphone I used to sing around my neck and came out of the soundproof box to face a fire-breathing Marcel. Am I the only one wishing that this box was fireproof too?

"Mind telling me what is up with your vocals, boy?" He arched a brow that went so high up his head; it looked ready to join the hair on his head.

I remained silent because the answer may not be something he would want to hear.

I mean, come on. Sure I may have a grim reaper waiting for me back at home, but I couldn't help it. She looked so...

I can't even express myself in words, she has made me feel like banging my head against the wall twice, but her words this morning are starting to haunt me. Is my voice really that bad?

"Earth to Caleb Parks, my personal dimwit," Marcel snapped his fingers in my face, "Mind telling me why the wheels in your head are spinning faster than their job description?" Believe it or not, but that brow went higher.

"It's nothing really." I tried to play it cool, but my best friend clearly didn't get the memo.

"Marci told me what happened this morning. You, my friend, are a hypocrite." Jack grinned wildly.

"Am I missing something here?" Marcel looked at us, trying to put two and two together.

"I only relayed your message to Jacob," I spoke sourly, hoping my tone would get Jack to drop it, but of course, like a turkey at thanksgiving, he roasted on.

"Marcel, we got that girl from the Bahamas to come and fill in Trisha's spot while she is away. Our buddy Caleb here had a moment with her in the kitchen."

It took only two seconds before the bloodhound released the air in his lungs. His way of saying that he has figured everything out.

"Firstly, boy, if you allow this girl to mess up your career, you're as smart as an ostrich. Secondly, Jack, did you do a background check on her?"

"I already did, and she seems clean."

Marcel's eyes drilled into mine as the following words passed his mouth, "Boy, you may not want to hear this, but I suggest you keep your distance as far as this girl is concerned; she is here to get money and leave. You can allow her to leave with your heart in shards or your dignity as high as it goes. The choice is yours."

I hate to admit it, but Marcel is right. No matter how much this icy brunette with blonde highlights thinks she could intimidate and intrigue me, it's best if she didn't get to a part of me that was yet to recover.