CHAPTER 7

“Get a move on girls!” Ms. Blue yelled in the kitchen.

Beads of sweat had started pooling on my forehead and brows, and my legs felt like they would give out soon. I’d only been working for the Caldwells for a few days, but I already wanted out.

Today was the engagement party of Dean Caldwell and his dethroned, Lynette Sinclair— the tall blonde Barbie bombshell who was the heir to the Sinclair dynasty.

I didn’t know much about her, but I’d seen her in the tabloids once or twice before. She was built like a model, and was popularly referred to as ‘the people’s princess’.

I already hated her.

I swallowed as I walked through the crowd with yet another tray of champagne flutes.

Who knew you needed so many people for a simple engagement party? And the amount of press was just something else.

The influential guests collected and returned champagne flutes from and to my tray without looking at me. They never said ‘thank you’ and they definitely never acknowledged the help. That was one thing I had learned very quickly here.

We were nobody. I was nobody.

I heard somebody whisper my name. “Grey.”

It was Hannah. The maid who had helped me settle in on my first day.

I turned to her with an enthusiastic smile. “What’s up?”

“The younger Mr Caldwell would like to see you.”

My confusion was evident in the deep frown that graced my features. “Me? Why?”

Hannah shrugged. “He said to meet him in the hallway upstairs.” She said, then stopped just before she walked away. She gave me a worried glance. “Lani, you have to learn not to get into trouble here. It never ends well for any of us.”

I watched her retreating figure as she walked away. Trouble? I’d barely said two words to Mason since I came into this house, except for the incident yesterday. Was that what this was about?

I swallowed again and straightened my spine. Whatever this was, it was better to walk into it with a brave face on.

Mason was leaning against the wall in the empty hallway when I found him.

“Mr Caldwell, you sent for me?” I asked politely, keeping my head down.

He was silent for a while, until I peeked at him through my lashes. He scratched the back of his neck like he was uncomfortable. “Yes…”

“Is there a problem, sir?” I asked when he didn’t say anything else.

He sighed, then put his hands in his pockets. “Look, I just wanted to apologize for before… what you saw… the day I acted, it wasn’t right.”

Oh.

I cleared my throat. I was very surprised and it probably showed on my face. I had no idea they did apologies in this house. “I didn’t see anything, Mr Caldwell.”

He groaned. “Please, call me Mason.”

I finally looked up at him. I nodded once.

“I know what you’re thinking…”

“You do?” I asked way too sarcastically. With the way he looked at me, I knew he had caught on to it. But I didn’t even care. I was done protecting their feelings.

“You think I’m nothing but another rich prick.”

I shrugged, as if to say that he was right.

“You don’t even know me.” He added, looking a bit annoyed.

“I never said that I did, Mr Caldwell.”

“Okay enough with that. I know what I look like on the outside. But there’s more to people than the amount of money they have in their bank account.”

He sounded sincere, and maybe it was the look in his eyes as he searched mine, like he was looking for something that confirmed that I really saw him, but I felt a little warm in my chest.

When he looked at me like that, he looked like a little boy. And yes, I had my reasons for hating them, but maybe I was judging too harshly.

I folded my hands. “Why did you really call me out here? I’m working.”

“You looked miserable.”

“I’m not here to have fun.”

“Okay fine. You’re probably the only real person in that room, and I figured you needed a break.”

“That’s not your decision to make. I work for your mother.”

“The same one you do not fear?” He scoffed.

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard you rolled your eyes at one of her friends. My only regret is that I wasn’t there to see it.”

Heat pooled at my cheeks. “That was an accident.”

Mason grinned. “No it wasn’t.”

The music drifted through the hallway, something slow and classical. The kind of sound that made you forget yourself if you stood still too long.

I looked away. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Talking to me like I’m… not the help.”

Mason tilted his head. “Because you’re not.”

I laughed once, it came out a bitter sound. “I wear a name tag. I refill champagne. That makes me exactly the help. And this thing… this thing you’re doing right now is what you all do. It’s a classic power play move. You make me feel like you relate to me just so you can push me right back to the ground where I belong.”

His eyebrows creased. “I’m not like that.” His eyes were soft now. Uncharacteristically sincere.

I shook my head. “You should go back to the party.”

“So should you.”

“I’m not a guest.”

It was at that moment that I realized how close he was to me. When had he gotten that close? I could almost feel his breath on my face.

“That’s too bad.”

His voice was low now. The music swelled behind us. My pulse picked up.

“Mason what are you—”

But then his hand brushed my arm, almost like a feather.

And before I could decide what it meant— he kissed me.

He wasn’t rough, or gentle. He wasn’t asking for permission. The kiss was just there— warm and confident and sudden.

I froze. What the hell was happening?

I heard a loud thud in my head as my heart pounded, and then my hands came up. I pushed him away, eyes wide. But it was too late.

There was a flash. And then a click.

My heart dropped. I turned toward the far end of the hallway, just in time to see the figure clad in a bright reflective ‘press’ jacket take another click.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Dean had walked in too, and I didn’t need a genie to tell me that he had seen everything. The look on his face said it all.

My eyes fell to his clenched fists.

And behind me, Mason muttered, “Fuck.”