Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
I reached the bus stop, but he wasn’t there yet. Nervously chewing on my thumbnail, I spotted him arriving just as the bus approached. I didn’t have time to say anything because people were queuing up, and I had to get in line. When I climbed on and took my seat, I found myself staring at the floor, my attention on the shoes that passed me by. I didn’t know if I wanted Shay to sit next to me or not, but then an older man took the seat next to mine, and I watched as Shay’s boots walked by. Lifting my head slightly, I saw him take his usual seat, and my heart sank.
Were we back to that?
Back to being strangers?
The journey passed almost in slow motion. I wanted to turn around and look at him so many times, but I never did. When we reached our stop, we alighted, and he caught my eye briefly. There was a question there, but I couldn’t interpret it.
Emotionally, I was all muddled up as I headed to work. It was a good thing it was my least taxing day of the week. I cleaned two penthouse apartments on Mondays. Both were at the top of a prestigious luxury complex and were owned by a man named Jonathan Oaks.
I knew very little about Jonathan, other than the fact he worked in the financial sector and was rarely home. I’d only met him in person twice, once during my interview and once again on my first day when he showed me around the apartments. He was a handsome, tall, fair-haired man who wore an expensive looking suit and fancy shoes. I judged him to be in his late thirties or early forties, and I hadn’t laid eyes on him since. He was always at work when I arrived. My routine was to collect the keys for the penthouses from the security desk in the lobby and return them when I was done at the end of the day.
Both penthouses were almost identical; though, I could tell Jonathan only lived in one of them. I wasn’t entirely sure what the other was meant for, but I knew it was rarely occupied because it didn’t require much cleaning. I wondered if perhaps he only kept it as an investment and would sell it off at some point in the future. It seemed a waste to own such a large apartment and not live in it, but Jonathan Oaks clearly didn’t inhabit the same world I did.
Even the apartment he did occupy was never very messy. I’d left a message on his phone my first week working for him, stating I probably only needed to spend half a day cleaning. He’d replied insisting I spend the full day and do the job properly. It had bothered me he’d thought I was trying to get out of doing a good job, but I didn’t argue. If he wanted to pay me for a full day’s work when I could spend half the hours relaxing in a penthouse apartment that overlooked the city, then that was fine by me.
I started with the bathrooms, then moved on to the main bedroom. It was large, with a king-sized bed and luxury furnishings; though, something that always struck me about Mr Oaks’ home was it didn’t feel like a home. Though beautiful, the penthouse felt incredibly lifeless. It was barely lived in. Everything was brand new, nothing worn out or threadbare. It sounded strange, but those things were what made a place feel cosy. The armchair that had a bit of a dip in it because it was sat in so often, or the side table that had a spot of discolouration from so many cups of tea being set down on it.
Mr Oaks’ penthouse didn’t have any of those things. No signs of a life lived within those walls. Nor were there any photographs or evidence he might have a family or even a girlfriend. Sure, there was art, expensive paintings. But I couldn’t be sure if he was a collector or if, like the unused apartment next door, he bought them only as investments. It made me feel sorry for him, rich as he was. Weird, right? Someone like me feeling sorry for someone like him. But what was the point of being so wealthy when you had no one to share it with? When you worked all the time and didn’t even enjoy the beautiful penthouse you lived in?
These thoughts had me considering my own life. My tiny flat might be cosy, but it was still as lonely as Jonathan Oaks’ penthouse at times. Sure, I had an occasional friend in Siobhan, and I went to visit my siblings on the weekends, but other than that, I had no one. I lived a solitary life, but more and more, I yearned for something else, for someone to share my days with. A partner. Hell, I’d even settle for a friend.