“The lighting.”
I grit my teeth and adjust the lamp.
“Closer,” he says.
I turn. “Closer to what?”
His eyes lift. “Closer to me.”
My stomach flips.
I take a step.
“Again.”
Another step.
He’s doing this on purpose. It’s not about the lighting. It’s not about the job. It’s a test.
I try to stay calm. I need this job. But irritation burns hotter.
“Do you need something specific,” I ask carefully, “or are you just ordering me around so you can watch me?”
Silence drops.
“You’re here to serve,” he says.
“I’m here to work,” I correct.
“That is the work.”
“Not if you’re doing this for fun,” I say, already knowing I’m pushing it.
His eyes darken. “You’re bold.”
“I’m tired.”
“Then you shouldn’t be here.”
“I didn’t request this.”
“No. I did.”
Of course, he did. I inhale slowly. “Why?”
He takes a sip. “Because I want you here.”
My stomach twists. That’s not an answer. It’s a problem. “I need clearer instructions,” I say. “If you want me to do this right.”
“You’re doing fine.”
That confirms it. He’s singling me out and enjoying it.
I step back. “Is this about last night?”
His gaze sharpens. “What about it?”
“The vampire. The hallway. Dragging me up here like I was a problem.”
