Chapter 5
~CELINE~
I glanced at my wristwatch. 1:30 PM. Why was Caroline taking so long?
With a sigh, I reached for my phone and dialed her number. Surely, she hadn’t forgotten about our lunch plans.
Across from me, Caesar started to squirm, tapping his toy truck against the table. His boredom was my cue to hurry, but Caroline still wasn’t picking up.
The soft ding of the café door opening caught my attention. I looked up and spotted Caroline standing by the entrance, scanning the room until her eyes found me.
“Caroline!” I waved, relief flooding me.
She waved back with a bright smile and threaded her way through the crowded tables. As always, she looked effortlessly elegant—her silk blouse and pencil skirt were perfectly tailored, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders.
I straightened in my seat, suddenly aware of the wild curls framing my face and the shadows under my eyes.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” Caroline said as she slid into the seat across from me. Her voice carried a note of genuine apology.
“Work’s been insane.”
Her gaze softened as it fell on Caesar. “Hi, sweetheart,” she cooed, her smile widening. “My godson gets cuter every time I see him.”
Caesar glanced up, offering her a shy smile before returning to his truck.
Caroline leaned in slightly, studying him with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Those blue eyes…” she murmured under her breath.
“What was that?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.
She blinked, her polished composure slipping for a moment. “Nothing,” she said quickly, brushing it off with a smile. But something stayed in her expression—something she wasn’t saying.
I let it slide, though her words stuck in my mind.
“How have you been, Celine?” she asked, her tone kind but cautious.
“Well,” I said, running my finger along the edge of the menu, “I’m unemployed, and my rent’s due soon.”
Caroline’s expression softened with sympathy. “Have you considered asking your mom or sister for help?”
I stiffened. “You know I can’t do that.”
She sighed, her frustration barely masked. “I get it, but think about Caesar. You can’t do this alone forever.”
“I am thinking about Caesar,” I snapped. “That’s why I’m not dragging him into their mess.”
Caroline leaned back, raising her hands in surrender. “Fair enough. But it’s tough out there, Celine. If you need help…”
“I know,” I said quietly. “And I do need help.”
I hesitated before continuing. “If I don’t figure something out soon, Caesar and I might not have a roof over our heads.”
Her face softened again, and she reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “I’ll see what I can do, okay? Just trust me.”
Relief washed over me, and I managed a small smile. “Thank you, Caroline.”
Two days later, she texted me about a job opening at her cousin’s mansion. The position was as a maid, and the pay was shockingly generous.
For the first time in weeks, hope sparked in my chest. This job could be our fresh start.
Saturday morning arrived faster than expected. I bolted out of bed to the grating sound of my alarm.
“Up, Caesar,” I called, pulling him from under the covers.
With no hot water, I resorted to heating water on the stove for our morning wash. By the time we were both dressed—me in a simple black dress, Caesar in jeans and a T-shirt—I was already exhausted.
We left the apartment, dodging a sharp glance from Mrs. Martha.
“Morning, Celine. Rent’s due next week. Don’t make me come knocking,” she warned, her voice like gravel.
I bit back a sigh, forcing a polite smile. “Got it, Mrs. Martha.”
We took a bus, then a cab, weaving through streets that grew more pristine and opulent with every turn.
“Wow,” I murmured, staring out the window at the towering mansions.
“It’s something, huh?” the cab driver said with a chuckle. “Welcome to where the rich and powerful live.”
The cab pulled up to a sleek, glass-fronted mansion, and I stepped out, clutching Caesar’s hand.
The iron gate loomed ahead, its sheer size making me feel small.
“We’re here,” I whispered, giving Caesar a shaky smile.
I pressed the buzzer, startled when a crisp voice crackled through the intercom. “Name?”
“Celine Brown,” I stammered.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes. Caroline Crawford referred me for the maid position.”
There was a pause, then a soft click as the gate unlocked.
I tightened my grip on Caesar’s hand and stepped inside. The path was lined with perfectly trimmed hedges, leading to the massive front door.
A woman in a blue dress greeted us, her expression harsh. She looked me over, then glanced at Caesar with a faint frown.
“This way,” she said curtly, turning on her heel.
We followed her through a house that looked like it belonged in a magazine. Caesar’s small giggles broke the silence, and I squeezed his hand, urging him to stay quiet.
At last, we stopped in front of a door.
“He’s waiting,” the woman said, giving me a pointed look before walking away.
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding.
“Well,” I whispered to myself, “here goes everything.”
Opening the door, I stepped inside with Caesar. The study was lined with bookshelves, sunlight streaming through the windows.
A man stood with his back to us, leaning against a shelf.
“Hello?” I called softly.
He turned, and my breath caught in my throat.
Hunter Reid.
His piercing gaze locked onto mine, and the room seemed to shrink around us.