Clara finally selected a cloth from the wardrobe and turned almost at once.
"Miss Quin said to let you know she was going to spend the weekend at the Amalfi Coast with her friends," she said gently.
"Wait, she's already gone?" Tony asked with a baffled shrug.
"Yes, Tom," Clara answered calmly. "She also wanted to let you know that your aunt, miss Sinclair, will be coming over to spend the weekend here."
"What?" Tony exclaimed. "Aunt Sinclair… is coming today?" he queried. He wasn't sure why an odd excitement flickered inside him.
Judging from Tom's memories he had about Aunt Seraphina Sinclair Quin. their relationship was kind of awkward, and somehow she was a bad influence. And a whirlwind woman who always left chaos behind wherever she went. And yet, something about her arrival stirred a strange, throbbing nervousness inside him, a feeling he didn't fully understand but couldn't ignore.
"Any problem, Tom?" Clara asked, expressing her new free will of speech around her boss as she walked back to him with the cloth she had selected.
"No," Tony replied, putting on a fake smile.
His gaze drifted to the fabric in her hands.
"Why did you pick a beach robe?" he asked suddenly.
"Ohh," Clara stuttered, trying very hard not to stare at his half-exposed, annoyingly perfect torso that seemed to be calling her hands by name.
"Mister Elijah is here," she added quickly. "He's at the pool behind the house… so-sorry I didn't mention it earlier."
Tony's brows shot up.
"Elijah is here?" he repeated and then burst into laughter.
"That son of a bitch!" he laughed harder, throwing his hands up before letting them fall dramatically.
Elijah is his best friend, the guy he rolls with almost every time. He's actually a funny guy, whose humor comes from him being out of luck almost every time, and that was exactly why Tom liked him so much.
Clara, almost infected with Tony's laughter, smiled, shyly.
"Yes, he's here," she whispered audibly while Tony was still laughing. "So I suggested you would be joining him at the pool, so…" She brandished the beach robe. "That's why I selected this."
Tony shrugged gently. "You guessed right then," he replied. "Looks like your beauty reached your thinking."
She blushed, spreading the robe for him and lifting it up to cover her crimson cheeks.
"You know, you don't have to go through all this," Tony mused. "What am I, four? I can dress myself."
"Just stop it, Tom," Clara said huskily. "I swear calling you Tom feels so awkward," she added automatically... something she didn't even plan on saying. "And indeed this new Tom deserved to be treated like a king, a real king… I guess Simma was right after all."
Tony had been ready to tease her for saying calling him Tom was awkward, but that last sentence snapped his attention instantly.
"Simma?" he snapped, more interested now. "Simma was right about what?" he asked as he turned his back and slid his right hand into the robe, and then the left.
Clara didn't even notice she had already said too much.
"Ohh… ah. He said you seemed different. That you miraculously became calmer, kinder…" her voice dropped low, "handsome, stronger, sexier."
With the robe balanced on his shoulders now, he turned back to face Clara.
"Simma said all that… to you?"
Clara frowned a bit. "Yeah, he did." She walked up close to him, held the robe together on his chest, and smoothly tied the hem.
"There you go, Tom. You are all set."
He might be concerned that the butlers gossiped with his name, and also angry about that, but honestly he was glad that their perspective about him was starting to get positive. At least that was not bad, and that was one of the things he said he was going to do; transform this host body into something better.
Well… he looked at Clara, who had folded her arms in front of her humbly.
"Thank you," he commented.
He placed his palm on her cheek lightly and tenderly.
"You have a kind heart, and a true one… don't let that be rubbed from you…" He edged closer until her body brushed against his, putting her in a very tight, breathless position. "I know we have come a long way, and I know I cast you out once, but sincerely, there's no better butler I want around me than a genuine one… one with the courage and brave enough to call me out when I'm wrong"
He exhaled deeply.
"… so I'm putting you back as my personal butler, and I'm reinstating your salary."
He smiled. "Congrats, Clara," he chimed. "You've been promoted."
"Aaaaaaah!" she yelled in joy as she jumped on top of him.
"Whoa!" Tony gasped as he caught her, she almost knocked him over.
Clara, out of words, clung tightly. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. She literally thought she had fucked up her chances with him when she yelled at him earlier. Crazy how it was ironically on track and the exact thing that redeemed her.
"Eeh… Cl-Clara," Tony breathed. She was squeezing him so tight. "You're crushing me."
"Sorry," she panted, a bit embarrassed and more excited. She let go at once.
"Oh my God…" She clasped both palms over her mouth, tears welling around her eyes. "Thank you, thank you so much!"
"Hey, it's okay," Tony assured. "It's fine, alright? You deserve it. You deserve more."
He was already tired of the whole joy and thank-yous, so he headed to the door.
"I'm gonna leave you to your excitement," he teased. "Whenever you're done, would you gently come out and set me up with my friend at the pool?"
Clara laughed as she watched him walk out the door.
She punched the air in joy and fell onto his bed, spreading her arms and legs in waves like a baby on snow, making snow angels.
…
Tony walked through the huge mansion. It had only been a night since his transmigration into Tom, and he was conquering this world so far, something Manniak kept calling beginner's luck, but he knew she was just jealous.
In truth, since his childhood obsession with fantasy worlds and his knowledge about scenarios of this kind, he had never read or watched anything about this kind of situation or system.
It actually left him pondering all night what was inserted into his head; whether it was a real human being named Manniak like a real entity, or whatever… or an implanted program, or some bizarre side-effect of transmigration.… or whether it was because of the mission he was faced with, a mission he truly loved to go about. Yeah, definitely that last one was the answer. But the whole thing was overwhelming.
[You know I can hear you, right?] Manniak asked, her lovely systematic voice echoing through his head.
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Speak of the devil," he muttered, walking forward.
(●_●)
"Uhhh… you know this is getting old" Tony grumbled. "and less annoying, and I'm getting used to it," Tony said.
[The smiley is a happy face, Mr. Quin…]
Tony frowned. Now the smiley annoyed him.
"Yeah, right… whatever," he murmured with clenched teeth.
Just then he remembered something... a thought that had been clawing at the back of his mind.
"Manniak, I'd like you to give me a little analysis on Aunt Sinclair," he requested.
Her coming seemed to cause tension in him... a nervousness that he was sure shouldn't be there if Tom was just Tom and not occupied by him.
[Aunt Sinclair… Miss Aurelia's elder sister. She is a beautiful, accomplished and comfortable woman. At the age of 51 years, she is still single. She seems to be Miss Aurelia's model, since Miss Aurelia follows in her footsteps, especially the part about not ... and never marrying.
She is a licensed clinical therapist with multiple degrees: PhD in Behavioral Psychology, M.Sc in Cognitive Therapy, B.A in Human Relations, and a board-certified trauma specialist.
You are his favorite nephew... and you too share a bond]
Tony paused mid-step as he digested it all, but one thing still confused him.
"What do you mean bond?" he asked.
[Mr. Quin, it's been a while since you've met with Aunt Sinclair, To unlock that memory, you will need to establish a touch; A memory Trigger Touch]
"Shit," Tony cursed as he started walking down the stairs that led to the main sitting room of the mansion.
Some of Tom's memories were not yet accessible to him, maybe the old ones, or maybe the ones Tom neglected so much.
However, the main ones were there at his disposal.
Walking down the stairs that led to the main sitting room of the mansion, Tony slowed his steps.
For the first time, he truly saw it.
Last night he had been rushing to get to the party, too distracted to take in anything around him, but now the entire place unfolded before him in all its grandeur.
The couches were a rich brown, their arms and tops adorned with intricate golden carvings that shimmered softly under the lights. A beautifully designed glass table sat at the center, resting upon a heavy, luxurious rainbow-colored rug. Elegant chandeliers hung from the ceiling like suspended constellations, each crystal catching the light.
His eyes drifted to the far wall where a striking painting commanded attention: a brown-skinned woman,posed nude, covering only her nipples with her palms. It stood bold and unapologetic among the other framed masterpieces surrounding it.
On the right side, a polished mahogany side-table overflowed with bowls of fruits; grapes, strawberries, apples, pears, arranged in silver and glass dishes as though awaiting royalty. To the left, an ornate glass cabinet displayed shelves upon shelves of rare wines, each bottle bathed in gentle interior lighting. Beneath the main wall sat a grand black-marble fireplace bordered in gold.
Everything blended together smoothly: wealth, art, and luxury.
He nodded as he looked around. He could never believe that one day he would live as comfortably as this. If only Sarah could see how wealthy he was now.
[Mr. Quin, so you are going to act all ignorant about yesterday?] Manniak asked, drawing him from his accessments and wanders.
Tony smiled. He would have actually laughed, but he didn't want the butlers around to think he had gone insane laughing all to himself.
Yesterday, however, was very smooth, well-planned, Beautifully executed, and the final outcome was more gratifying than even he expected. What was there to think about when everything was already…
He paused and listened.
Yells were coming from the front yard.
He was lready halfway towards the way leading to the backyard, but the voices pulled him off course.
Turning around, he headed toward the front door, drawn by the heated commotion happening just beyond it.
When he reached it, he opened the door and walked out...
Only to see what made him gasp.