"It's not your fault. Come in.”

Mr. Moore made room for Matteo to enter and closed the door, then walked into the house, guiding him through the entrance chamber.

Matteo tried to move through the room at the man's speed, but he had to stop for a moment. The first thing he saw was white in its purest tone, seeing that as he walked and his eyes roamed the hall, the white mixed with other lighter and more neutral tones. The walls were white too and the furniture was had an equally light color, pale snow, which contrasted with the beautiful paintings in which he would never be able to recognize their real value even if he were paid to do it, decorating those walls interspersed with large windows that went all the way to the floor in strategic points; everything was so immaculate, so clean and bright that he was afraid to take a step forward and get something dirty.

He blinked, looking around and wondering what else he would find in that place. So, with the greatest care possible, Matteo stepped on the very white carpet that stretched across the entire entrance and walked as fast as he could trying to reach Mr. Moore who was already waiting for him at the entrance to the living room.

And like everything else, the floor of that house was also made of a white granite that shone almost blindingly. Had he mentioned the large spiral staircase that led to the upper floor? It was beautiful, something out of a fairy tale. Matteo could very well imagine a princess descending those bright, polished steps. He heard a cough and finally looked away from the staircase, seeing that there were two doors on the right and one on the left, and the room that he thought was a small living room opened up wider to the right, well lit by the large windows that were also there, showing the well-kept garden, more white walls, cream sofas, a coffee table and a big tv mounted on the wall.

Like an idiot, he kept walking while looking around and accidentally tripped over the end of the carpet, stopping at the beginning of the living room. Mr. Moore, on the other hand, had walked confidently down the long hallway, waiting for him, looking more impatient with each passing minute now standing in the middle of the room.

"Come in. Please." Mr. Moore told him as seriously as before.

For some reason Matteo couldn't explain, he felt conflicted, though... though he knew it was a different kind of conflict. It was a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, as if... it might sound ridiculous, but he felt like he'd walked into a trap where if he stepped wrong he'd be devoured. He admitted it, he was attracted to a specific type of man. Tall, strong, and... determined.

Well, he didn't know if "decided" was the right word, but Matteo liked to believe that. He didn't know, maybe it was all that skin on show, the way the half-naked man was standing in the middle of the room as if he had nothing to hide, the way Mr. Moore seemed to use his height to demand... demand something from him. It was also the way those eyes that shone intensely seemed to stalk him, restrained, attentive, trying to communicate something that Matteo refused to understand.

It could also be that giant, deserted place that gave him this feeling of being suffocated, as if he were tiny and the white vastness was going to swallow him in that house that seemed to be the perfect prison made of gold. Or even worse, it could be something unprecedented, something that Matteo would refuse until the end out of pure moral sense; he hated this feeling that climbed up his spine and made him even more confused, because it wasn't fair, he had been irritated with the man less than ten minutes ago! And now, well... Matteo couldn't hide it, it was something that came to him naturally; this sexuality that he tried to bury as much as he could and that was obvious if Matteo could compare, was the similarity in the posture of this man who stared at him from head to toe so intensely that it made him uncomfortable and at the same time eager.

But everything was fine, Matteo could admit that to himself. The only reason he hesitated so much was the memory of what had happened yesterday, it was exactly because he knew people like this man, authoritative and confident, as if it was obvious that others lived to fulfill his desires, that he had lost his job. Matteo didn't want the same thing to happen so soon. Or for something worse to happen.

Ah, why didn't he listen to his intuition and leave when he could? I mean... no one was forcing him to be there, right? Mr. Moore had just held the door, letting him pass and walked into the house. Maybe with his head held a little high? Maybe standing up straighter than before as if... as if he were puffing out his chest? And just maybe... just maybe he could see a sinister glint in those eyes that for some reason Matteo couldn't look away from ... No, it must have been the anxiety that liked to play tricks on him.

Matteo took a deep breath and did his best to convince himself, he was only making this sacrifice for the money.

He took another deep breath and let it out, taking the first step into the room. Then he took another step and stopped in front of Mr. Moore, who stared at him for a few more seconds, his face unreadable, arms crossed in front of his chest, standing in the middle of the room with his legs apart. It was hard to keep his eyes from following the natural direction of things.

"Follow me.”

Without waiting for Matteo, Mr. Moore strode towards the sofas in the living room and sat down heavily against one of the thousands of armchairs that decorated the room, forcing Matteo to follow him.

"I won’t beat around the bush. My wife travels most of the time and I take care of the kids. I’m a researcher and I don’t have time to waste. They have a routine. You’re supposed to wake them up at seven sharp, get them changed, help me with breakfast, take them to school, pick them up, help them with their homework, keep them entertained until bedtime, and bathe them at the end of the day. The rest of the time, I don’t care what you do. Whether you stay here or somewhere else is none of my business.”

"Hmm… okay?" Matteo said, a little confused, irritation rising again in his nerves. "Will you be present at some point? Or should I do something else?”

"And what would that be?”

The man finally smiled at Matteo, but it was so mocking and cynical that he almost got up from his chair to punch him.

"Look, I don't know what you do in other people's houses, but here you're going to do what you were hired to do. Take care of the children and clean up the mess they make. Is two hundred a day enough?”

"Two hundred?" Matteo said, surprised. That was double what he expected.

"Two hundred plus transportation and lunch. You are free to eat or do whatever you want.”

Mr. Moore gave Matteo another small smile and slowly stretched as he stood up, Matteo watching every movement more closely than necessary, still slightly confused and refusing to blush. The worst part was knowing that he was so obvious, unable to avoid the embarrassment.

"Don't worry. It happens to everyone. "Mr. Moore winked at Matteo and finally walked away, but not before saying: "Up the stairs, I'm in the first room on the right. The children should be woken up in twenty minutes.

Matteo waved dazedly and watched the broad-shouldered silhouette of his newest boss disappear up the stairs.