Chapter Two

* Jana *

Ten years back...

"Don't just stare at me, Jana. Come on! It's the weekend, and you have nothing to do here in this small house. Help me clean at the resort. The team could use an extra hand, and we could use the cash."

I blinked twice, my eyes drawn to the mirror in front of me. My mother stood just behind me, her reflection blending into mine like a reminder of where I came from and where I might be headed. Her face, slightly flushed from the morning heat, still carried that effortless beauty people often praised her for. Even dressed in the plain uniform of a cleaner, a navy-blue polo and tan slacks smudged faintly with detergent, she looked radiant.

Some said I took after her. She had straight light brown hair that kissed her shoulders, and a figure that turned heads, even at thirty-eight and after bearing three children. A cluster of freckles danced lightly over her cheekbones, like a constellation meant only for those close enough to notice. I didn't have those, my skin was paler, smoother, but the resemblance was there, and every time someone pointed it out, a small spark of pride lit inside me.

To me, she was more than beautiful.

"Oh! yes, Mom." I scrambled to stand. "Uh, what should I wear?"

Unlike her, I didn't have a uniform. I wasn't a regular staff member at Magnolia Resort. Just a part-timer. Sometimes useful, sometimes just in the way.

"Wear something black, Jana. A T-shirt and jeans will do. And rubber shoes, no slippers, okay? We'll be cleaning the guest suites today."

I nodded and made my way toward the room I shared with Geraldine, my older sister. As I pushed the door open, the sharp scent of nail polish filled my nose. Geraldine was sprawled lazily on her bed, one leg crossed over the other, her face serious as she applied a second coat of vivid red to her toenails.

She glanced up at me as I searched beneath the bed for my old pair of rubber shoes and pulled a black shirt from the drawer.

"What's the rush, Jana?" she asked, her voice languid, almost teasing.

"I'm helping Mom at Magnolia resort today," I said, tugging on my jeans and tying my hair into a messy ponytail. "Aren't you coming with us?"

Geraldine scoffed, eyes rolling toward the ceiling before she returned to her toes. "Nope. I'd rather work at the club tonight. Waitressing pays better, and I already told Mom, so maybe that's why she's dragging you along instead."

I frowned. Geraldine was eighteen, old enough to take a proper job, old enough to come home whenever she wanted. Me? I was still barely sixteen, stuck somewhere between being told what to do and dreaming of a good life.

"She's not going to give you money, you know," she added carelessly. "You'll just be scrubbing floors and changing sheets for free. Good luck with that. Oh, and—" she looked at me with a sly smirk— "if you see Renz Dankworth, tell him I don't work there anymore. He should know I'm at the club. We've run into each other once, so he'll figure it out."

I paused. My fingers trembled slightly as I tied the laces on my left shoe. "Renz?"

She blinked, then laughed. "Yes, Jana. Duh. Lawrence Dankworth. The resort owner's son. He's on break now, from that big university in the city, remember? So he's probably at the resort this weekend, riding jet skis or partying with his friends. Do you even know him?"

Her words hung in the air between us like smoke. I kept my gaze low, but I felt her eyes watching me, curious. I forced a swallow past the lump rising in my throat.

Of course, I knew him.

I remembered the first time I saw him like it was etched into the walls of my mind. I had just started tagging along with Mom to the resort, clutching a rag and a spray bottle, wide-eyed and nervous. He was walking down the boardwalk with two friends, his laughter carried by the sea breeze. Tall. Effortless. Golden in the sun. He didn't see me, of course. But I saw him. And from that day on, he lived in my thoughts, too often, too vividly.

When Mom stopped taking me for a while, I thought I'd never see him again.

"Oh... okay," I said, pretending to shrug.

But my pulse had quickened. My heart was already ahead of me, racing toward the resort, toward Magnolia's gates, toward the impossible idea of being seen, not just as a cleaner's daughter, but maybe, just maybe, as someone else.

Someone he might look at. Even once.

The sun was already climbing when we left the house. Mom had tied her hair up in a tight bun, the same way she always did when she meant business. She didn't say much during the ride, just the usual reminders about keeping my head down, working quickly, and staying out of trouble. Her steps were brisk, familiar, the kind of stride that came from years of doing the same thing, day after day. I followed just a pace behind, clutching the strap of the small canvas bag that held my water bottle, a snack, and a crumpled cap I used when the sun got too much.

Magnolia Resort stood like a different world at the far end of the island. Gated, gleaming, and laced with the scent of salt and luxury. Whitewashed buildings and manicured hedges framed wide walkways that stretched all the way to the beachfront, where loungers gleamed like polished shells in the morning sun.

I always felt smaller here.

As we passed the guardhouse, one of the regulars, Mister Felix, flashed us a smile and waved us in without asking questions. Everyone knew Mom. She'd worked here for over five years. People respected her, and not just for how hard she worked, but for how she carried herself.

"You'll start at the eastern wing," she told me as we reached the staff hall. "Most of the guests just checked out, so it's cleanup before the next batch arrives. Try to be quick and quiet. No wandering off. Got it?"

I nodded.

We grabbed fresh linens and spray bottles from the housekeeping room, and she handed me a laminated checklist. I'd done this before, though not often. I knew the routine, strip the beds, wipe the mirrors, sweep the sand from the floor tiles. Still, there was something different about today. A buzz in the air I couldn't name.

The eastern wing faced the beach, each room with a private balcony and glass doors that let in golden light. The first few suites were empty, cool, and quiet, and I worked steadily. The third room, however, had its door open slightly, voices floating out, laughter, music, the clink of a bottle.

I paused. My hand gripped the mop tighter.

"Don't be stupid, Jana," I muttered to myself. "You're here to work."

But my feet moved on their own, just a little closer, just enough to peek through the crack in the door.

There were three of them. Young men. Sunburnt, half-dressed, fresh off the beach. One of them stood near the minibar, shirtless, his back to me as he poured something into a glass. I would've recognized that silhouette anywhere.

Renz.

His hair was a little longer now, tousled from the sea. His shoulders broader. He wore board shorts and a careless smile that made my stomach dip. He looked nothing like the boys back home. Nothing like anyone I knew. He was from another world, a world of city skylines, expensive schools, and golden summers. A world I had no place in.

And yet...

As if sensing eyes on him, he turned slightly, and my breath caught. He didn't see me. His gaze passed across the hallway like a breeze, touching everything and nothing at once. But in that moment, it felt like time hiccuped.

I ducked back, heart pounding.

"Get a grip," I whispered, forcing myself down the corridor. I needed to focus. Finish the checklist. Move on.

But all through the morning, his image stayed with me. That easy laugh. That warm, careless energy that seemed to spill from him like sunlight on water.

By noon, I had finished five rooms and was folding towels in the laundry corner near the back entrance when Mom found me.

"Take your break," she said, handing me a small rice bun. "Eat something. The water is in the cooler by the staff kitchen."

I sat on a bench under the shade of a coconut tree, the breeze curling the ends of my hair. The sound of the waves drifted in from the shore. I chewed slowly, distracted.

Somewhere nearby, a burst of laughter rose again, his voice among them. I told myself I didn't care.

But my heart whispered otherwise.