Chapter 10: A SIMPLE THANK YOU.

Later that evening 

————

I was just about to serve Mr Blake's dinner when a low whistle came from behind me.

"Smells amazing, sweetheart," Alan drawled, leaning against the counter with that signature smirk he had been giving me since he came here.

"I have a name you know, Samantha," I said, keeping my tone professional.

Alan's smirk deepened. "Too boring and formal. I think 'sweetheart' suits you much better."

"You know, I was planning to make something for myself, but... this looks much better."

I frowned, glancing at him. "You cook?"

Alan grinned. "Oh, I do. Quite well, actually." He picked up a piece of toast from the tray and took a bite before I could stop him. "Mmm. But you? Looks like you've got magic hands, Samantha."

I folded my arms. "Well you don't look like someone who cooks and If you can cook, why not just—"

"But why would I, when there is someone who does it so well, much better than I?" He flashed me a charming grin. "Besides, I think I'd much rather eat what you make. Every day, if I'm lucky."

The way he said it made heat crawl up my neck. Before I could respond, a sharp voice cut through the room.

"Alan."

Blake stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his gaze flicking between me and his brother. His eyes darkened slightly when he noticed Alan still chewing.

Alan turned, completely unfazed. "Evening, brother. I thought you were busy."

Blake's eyes narrowed. "I was. And yet, here you are—already stirring things up."

Alan smirked. "Stirring things up? No, no, I was just appreciating Samantha's cooking. I have to say, I'm impressed. A skilled hand don't often comes with a pretty face, after all." He shot me a wink.

And I could swear I was blushing.

"I think I'll have her make my meals from now on, if you don't mind."

Blake's jaw tightened. "You don't need her to cook for you."

Alan lifted a brow. "Oh? Why not?"

"Because you cook for yourself. Always have." Blake's voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.

Alan exhaled dramatically. "True. But I think I deserve a break, don't you?" He turned back to me, his expression all too amused. "What do you say, Sweetheart? Think you can handle feeding both Hawthorne brothers?"

I opened my mouth, but Blake spoke first.

"No."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

Blake's gaze didn't leave Alan. You're here to visit, not to turn everything into one of your games."

"Alan leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, with a surprised look on his face. "games? Come on, brother, I live here too, remember? Plus, 'my visit' is a long one." His gaze flicked to me. "And if you get to have a personal chef, why can't I? Given that most of the ones you hire don't ever last—even for a day or two.”

Blake's jaw tightened. "If you need a personal chef, why don't you hire one?"

Alan smirked. "I would, but you're not exactly a fan of crowds. And from what Nadia told me, Samantha here has lasted longer than most caretakers—which, let's be honest, is saying something. So, why not let her take care of both of us mhm? I mean, I'm only here for a short time."

His reasoning was annoyingly smooth, and I could tell Blake knew it. He just stared at him, unimpressed.

I glanced at Blake, who sighed, running a hand through his hair before muttering, "Fine. But don't make it a habit."

Alan beamed. "No promises."

Blake ignored him. "Samantha, bring my breakfast when it's ready."

I nodded. 

And with that, he turned and walked out without another word.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Alan, however, just grinned. "Well, that was fun." He took another bite of toast and winked.

Then, with a casual stroll, he walked out, leaving me standing there-confused, flustered, and entirely unsure of what I had just walked into.

————

Balancing the tray carefully in my hands, I made my way toward Mr Blake’s room. After the chaos in the kitchen, I needed a moment to breathe, but of course, my job wasn’t done. Alan had taken his slice of toast and waltzed off, while Blake—well, he barely seemed pleased about the new arrangement.

I knocked softly. “Sir, your dinner.”

A beat of silence, then a clipped, “Come in.”

I pushed the door open, stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, the only light came from the desk lamp where Blake sat, flipping through some documents. He barely glanced up as I set the tray down.

“Your dinner,” I repeated.

He finally looked up, eyes scanning me before they flicked to the tray. “I assume Alan didn’t give you too much trouble?”

I hesitated. Was that concern? Or just irritation?

“He’s… different,” I said carefully.

Blake exhaled, sitting back in his chair. “That’s one way to put it.”

He picked up the fork, pausing for a second. “Did he try to charm you in anyway?”

I blinked. “Well, yes, but—”

Blake scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course he did.” He took a bite, chewing slowly before setting the fork down again. “He is always like that, you don’t have to entertain him, you know.”

Something about the way he said it made me pause.

“He said he’s staying for a while,” I pointed out.

Blake’s jaw tightened for a fraction of a second. “So he claims.”

I frowned. “You don’t believe him?”

Blake’s gaze met mine, unreadable. “Alan does whatever he wants. He comes and goes as he pleases.” He leaned forward slightly, his voice lower. “Just… be careful around him.”

There it was again—that strange protectiveness.

I swallowed, unsure why my pulse picked up. “I can handle myself.”

Blake held my gaze for a long moment before exhaling and sitting back. “I hope so, Samantha.”

I hesitated for a second, shifting on my feet before blurting out, “Sir… do I actually have this job?”

Blake’s brows lifted slightly. “What?”

“I mean,” I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling ridiculous, “it’s been over a week now, and you haven’t said anything. No official confirmation, nothing. So… am I hired? Or am I just, I don’t know, a temporary fill-in until you change your mind?”

His lips pressed together, amusement flickering in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “You wouldn’t still be here if you hadn’t gotten the job, i thought that was clear.”

That made me pause. “Wait—so I have it?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, Samantha. You have the job. Unless you’d like me to reconsider?”

“No!” I said quickly, then winced at how fast I answered. “I mean, no, sir. Thank you.”

He had a little smile but tried covering up quickly. “Good. Then stop worrying.”

I nodded and turned to leave, but before I could step away, he spoke again.

“And Samantha—”

I stopped, glancing back.

His eyes lingered on me, something uncertain in them. “Thank you. For the dinner.”

I was surprised , this was actually the first time he thanked me. I could see his soft side coming out a little. A simple thank you that sent warmth to my stomach.

I nodded.

“Good night, sir.”

And with that, I left, the weight of his gaze following me all the way down the hall.....

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