Chapter 2

When the front door swung open, James didn’t expect to see that. A gorgeous girl stood there like she stepped out of a magazine.

"Who are you? Sales or something? Look, sorry—I'm not buying anything," he said, already halfway ready to close the door.

The girl tightened her grip on the oversized backpack she was hugging. "I’m not selling anything, sir. I’m Nancy Jones, the maid. The agency sent me."

James blinked. Wait—maid? No way.

She looked nothing like what he imagined. Her skin was porcelain pale, hair jet black and straight, and her figure? Well, let’s just say that knee-length dress wasn’t helping him stay focused, it only showed more of her beautiful long legs.

"You’re joking, right? You look more like a model than someone who scrubs floors," he said, raising a skeptical brow.

"I swear I’m not lying. You can call the agency and check if you don’t believe me."

James eyed her up and down again, trying to make sense of it all. "What's your name again?"

"Nan-Nancy, sir."

"Alright. Hold on."

He stepped back into the house, pulling out his phone to double-check. No way this girl was really the maid.

Nancy waited at the doorway, standing awkwardly but patient. She was just in her early twenties, determined to make a perfect first impression.

About five minutes later, James reappeared.

"So?" she asked, her voice soft but steady.

"Turns out… you’re legit," he replied, still not totally convinced by the whole thing.

It just didn’t feel right that this beautiful girl wanted to work as a maid.

She gave a sweet smile. "Told you. I wouldn’t lie, sir."

"Well then, come in. I gotta ask you a few things first."

Nancy nodded and followed him into the living room. They sat across from each other, him still unsure, her trying to stay calm.

"So, Nancy, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

So young, he thought. "Ever worked as a maid before?"

"No, sir. After high school, I worked at a factory. Got laid off. So, I joined the agency."

"How long have you been in there?"

"Six months, sir."

James gave a slight nod. "Alright, but do you actually know how to do house stuff? My wife can be kind of picky."

She giggled. "Don’t worry, I’m good at cleaning. I can cook too! They wouldn’t have sent me otherwise."

"Good. That’s good." James found himself smiling back before quickly pulling it back. "As for salary, you’ll discuss that with my wife."

"Of course, sir." She gave another shy little nod.

"Okay then. Let me show you your room."

He led her to a small, neat room—around three by three meters, just big enough for a maid.

Nancy looked around, eyes wide. "Wow… this is nice, sir."

"Seriously? It’s just a regular room."

She scratched the back of her head, still amazed. It felt fancy to her—compared to what she was used to. A single bed, a couple nightstands, a wardrobe… even a TV.

"You can rest for now. My wife will tell you your schedule at night."

"But… should I really just rest until tonight?"

James paused. "Hmm… how about you cook something for Betty?"

"Betty?"

"My daughter. She’s probably still at school right now."

"Ah, I see! Got it, sir."

Once James left, Nancy unpacked her clothes. Not much, just a few tank tops, dresses, and shorts—California nights could be brutal in the heat.

She also had a few uniforms from the agency too. At least she didn’t have to worry about her working hour shirt.

When she was done, she headed to the kitchen. But as she stood in front of the fridge, she froze. What was she supposed to cook?

"What are you doing?" James’s voice startled her.

She spun around. "Oh! Sorry, sir. I was about to make lunch for Miss Betty, but… I don’t know what to cook."

James, who’d been reaching for coffee, gave her a look. He thought for a second. "Just keep it simple. There’s some chicken—fry it. And make veggie soup. That’s her favorite."

"What about you?"

He shook his head. "I usually skip lunch. Just coffee for me," he said, holding up his mug.

"Oh, then… how about I make it for you?" she offered, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips.

He didn’t answer right away. Then finally… "Sure. Two spoons of coffee, one spoon of sugar."

Nancy lit up. That smile of hers? Damn. It made something in James stir that he hadn’t felt in a while.

"Alright, sir. One cup of special coffee coming right up."

*

Nancy was confident. Her coffee was always a hit—friends swore it was magic. So she stirred it up with extra care, then knocked on James’s study door.

"Here you go, sir. Your coffee," she said, beaming as she handed it over.

James gave her a small smile and thanked her. It had been ages since someone made coffee just for him.

He took a careful sip, the heat swirling with the sweet-bitter balance on his tongue. There was even a strange but pleasant scent wafting up from the mug.

"So… how is it, sir? Do you like it?" Nancy asked, eyes shining with anticipation. This is her first day of working, she hoped to make a good impression.

James blinked. "This coffee tastes… different."

Nancy’s face paled. "How is it different, sir?" Her heart thumped in panic. Oh no. Did I mess it up? Too strong? Too sweet?

He tilted his head, taking another sip. "The taste of the coffee…"