I Woke Up Next To A Half-Naked Bad Boy in School [25] And He Suddenly Made Me His Personal Slave?!

"You can't," Brandon protested immediately. "You can't go!"

"And what have you the right to decide what's best for me? I'm not your daughter...I'm...I'm not some kind of your freaking personal slave!" I retorted. "I can't be the best help for you and you know that!"

"Of course you can--"

I snorted. "Oh yeah? I turned your shirts purple, I nearly killed myself on the treadmill, and last week I ate the last cupcake you were asking for," I said, and I saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I thought that was the cat," he replied.

"I lied! There's no cat in that household!" I shouted, bemused. "See? This is what I meant! You're so...so busy and tense all the time that you don't care about everything else other than your work! I just don't think I can keep up with your ridiculous lifestyle of...of trying to kill yourself!" I spat.

"How can stress kill me, again?" he said, holding back a smirk. Damn, I was annoyed as hell by his stupid attitude. "It could! There's scientific proof that shows the nerves release a hormone called n...niropeptine...thingamajic..."

Wait, that's not it. I swore I read it somewhere in the school's newspaper article.

"Neuropeptide Y, you mean?" he suggested. I glared at him. "Yes! That. I know that."

This was hopeless. Why were we even on this subject?

"I know you're hurt," he said gently after a few moments of tense silence we had. "And I wish I could say something more meaningful than the crap 'I-am-sorry'. But I can't find the perfect word if there is one. But I am being as sincere as I could, and I wish for you to stay," he said, unfolding his arms.

"I've wrecked my chance to be with you," he whispered, coming closer to me. "I'm hoping for a second chance, and if you can't find it in your heart to give me that chance to be with you...would it be too much to ask you to not break the deal and continue on living with me?"

I looked at him dumbly. "Are you deaf?" I shrieked disbelievingly. "I ate your last cupcake and you still want me to live under the same roof with you?!"

"I don't mind if you burn my clothes-- and no, don't you lie to me I know that it was you who ironed that shirt," he said when I opened my mouth to protest. I blushed. In my defence, the shirt was silk...and I was completely oblivious to the temperature of the iron.

He ran his fingers through his hair warily. "I'm busy all the time...I know that," he continued on. "At first, I made that deal because I pitied you. It's only human of me to feel that way. And sooner or later, I need a help that wouldn't mind not being paid."

"But after spending time with you, I just don't see a regular, normal housekeeper...I see the girl who can make me laugh and forget about the stressful life that I have in the first place. It's like you are my antidote, and I just had to screw things up."

"You pretty much did," I said before I could stop myself. He let out a sigh. "Can you please just stay?" he asked again, looking like a lost puppy. "We'll keep a professional distance this time or something, anything! As long as I can get you to not leave."

"Fine."

"Fine?"

I unwillingly smile. "It must injured your pride so much just to admit that to me."

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I really didn't like professional distance. It was hard for me to forget about my crush on him. But for the next few days, I kind of didn't care about it since Rachel made me work around so much that I didn't sleep for two nights.

Two. Whole. Fucking. Nights.

I didn't complain though. I was scared to open my mouth in front of Rachel or any of them. So I did my job as well as I could, and trust me, it took the very last ounce of energy I had left in my system. It was rewarding to see what I organized to be more wonderful than I could ever imagined.

White canopies were set up on the grassy garden at the front of the house with gold ribbons on the poles. Under the canopies were rows of round tables covered with white tablecloth. The violinists, cellists, harpists (and every type of '-ists' you can think of) were playing a classical tune.

Rachel really did enjoy to socialize, I thought when I saw her with a couple of people around her, talking about politics and scandals. I turned around happily and nearly screamed when I almost ran into Brandon.

"Shouldn't you be out mingling with business people around here?" I said lamely as a greeting. He shrugged. "They're too boring. I don't even know who they are, even though they claimed to be world famous. You did a great job today," he said, nodding towards the party. I beamed proudly.

"Can I help you with anything?" I asked. He shook his head and muttered a 'thanks'. "I just need you to make up an excuse if anyone asked where I am," he said, obviously tired. I nodded. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"Take a nap. I'll be in my room if you'll need me," he muttered and turned away immediately.

I looked down towards my feet before turning around to face the crowd. It's been like that with us ever since he asked me to stay. It was awkward for the first couple of days. And when the awkwardness finally disappeared, I wished it came back. He treated me like before. He kept ordering me around, demanding this and that. Seriously, he was the bad boy in school again...and we're not even in school!

I suddenly wished he was just another normal boy in school without the burden of work on him.

In a way, he was a slave to Compton's Industries himself...not literally, but you get what I meant.

I've told Amber, and she was outraged. I ended up apologizing to her for half an hour straight.

I picked up the silver, polished tray that had gift boxes on it and offered it to everyone with a polite smile stapled on my face. I was so sick of smiling. It made my muscles sore. Somebody should promote smiling as a form of exercise.

"Thank you for coming!" I said politely. Damn these pumps were killing me. I wobbled to a chair nearby and sat on it. Beads of sweat made its' appearance on my face, and I brushed it aside. Just as I was about to have a sip of my drink, my ears were met with a shrill, annoying noise that nearly made my ears bleed.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, and Rachel's eyes fell on me. She glared at me with so much hatred in her eyes that I thought she would kill me right there and then. I looked around and saw a man in a kilt with a bagpipe...

You've got to be kidding me!

A few days ago, he heard that Rachel Laurent was hosting a party, got a hold of Brandon's phone number and said that he wanted to play at the party. I thought bagpipes would be interesting at first, until I actually heard him play.

One might think a dying dog was stuffed inside that instrument. It turned out that he was no pro at all. He was an amateur, and as much as I felt guilty when I turned him down...he wouldn't give up.

I approached him with a nervous smile and hissed, "What are you doing here? Please leave, you're trespassing," I said. He stopped playing and looked at me with determination. "I'm here to make a name for myself! Don't you know that there's the president of the Bagpipe Association here, young lady!"

There was such thing as a Bagpipe Association?

"Please leave or I'll call the cops and...and bring my entire legal team to deal with you along with their bodyguards and their bodyguards' bodyguards!" I said. I wasn't making any sense, and I was aware that I did not have any legal team...

But as long as I could stop him from disrupting the event. I could practically feel Rachel's eyes burning at the back of my neck.

"I'm so sorry," I said when he looked disappointed and deflated. "You're err...really good though! I do wish my best on you."

One disaster avoided as the cellist started to play again, and everyone didn't paid attention to the man with the kilt leaving.

"Hey! You're the event planner right?" a brunette girl about Andrea's age asked me. I nodded. "Can I help you?"

"Yes...yes can you tell me where Brandon Compton is?" she asked. "I saw him talking to you just a few minutes ago. I need to talk to him about the rumors about that bankruptcy that's been all over the place!" she said, laughing as if she said something funny.

"He's...err...at the hospital," I said. I think now was the time to mention that I was pretty much hopeless at lying. The girl looked shocked. "The hospital? Did something happened? Is he alright?"

"Err...yes I suppose. He broke his leg and had to rush to the hospital as soon as possible."

"Oh dear! How did it happened? He looked perfectly fine to me earlier! How did he drive to the hospital? It's a long drive to the city you know."

My god!! Stop asking questions, I almost cried out. I was tongue-tied. I didn't even know what to say anymore. So my brain went into automatic mode. "He fell down the flight of stairs earlier. Slipped on a...uh...banana peel..." I said slowly and lamely, furiously blushing.

"Banana peel!" the girl exclaimed in horror. If I wasn't anxiously lying I would laugh at her reaction by now. "Y-yes, broke both of his arms."

"I thought it was his leg that was broken...?"

Shit!

I nodded gravely. "Yes, err...it was actually his leg and both of his arms," I said in a hurry. "Andrea...his sister...had to leave the party early too because she was driving Brandon to the hospital--"

"What are you wearing?!" someone shrieked a few feet in front of me. "You look like the Queen of England!"

I didn't know how to accept that statement. "This suit! That...stupid hat."

In fact, I was too shocked to accept any statements. Miss Brunette looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "I thought his sister send him off to the hospital?"

"Hospital?" Andrea echoed. "No no! Hey Andrea," I said, my voice sounded like a chipmunk. "Why don't you get some punch. It's really delicious," I continued, motioning fervently towards the buffet table. "Ooh, chocolate cake."

Andrea drifted away to the table, leaving me with the brunette alone. "She must have called the ambulance...discreetly," I added quickly. "Hey Minnie," another girl said, waving. "Found Brandon C yet?"

"Oh the awful thing happened to him!" Minnie said, her wide blue eyes opened even wider. "He broke both of his arms and a leg by stepping on a banana peel!!"

I sneaked into the house. Brandon was so going to kill me because of this.