Chapter 2: The Other Brother

A voice behind her chuckled.

“You’re either incredibly brave, or you have absolutely no idea who that was.”

A second man stood at the entrance. He looked about the same age as the first, but where the other man carried himself like a thunderstorm, this one felt like sunshine. His smile came easily, and he walked toward her with his hand already extended.

“Jacob Williams.”

Amy smiled instantly. Now this was a handshake person. She slipped off one glove before shaking his hand.

“Amelia Grace Carter.”

Jacob laughed softly. “That’s quite the handshake.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It is. Most people barely squeeze my hand. Yours says you’ve sat through a few business meetings.”

“I used to work in marketing.”

“I knew it. You don’t introduce yourself like a cleaner.”

She looked down at her clothes. “I definitely dress like one today.”

“No, but you carry yourself differently.” 

Jacob glanced toward the hallway his brother had disappeared into.

“I take it you’ve already met Zach.”

Amy let out a dramatic sigh. “That was Zach?”

“How are you two related?” she asked. “You seem perfectly normal.”

Jacob burst into laughter. “I ask myself that at least once a week.”

Amy laughed with him, and for the first time since arriving, the mansion didn’t feel quite so intimidating.

He looked around the room, the dust-covered shelves now gleaming, the cobwebs gone from one whole side, the old wooden floor a shade lighter.

“You’ve only been here a few hours.”

Amy shrugged. “I don’t like doing half a job.”

He noticed the way she’d moved furniture instead of cleaning around it. Most people took shortcuts. She hadn’t.

“I think you’re the first cleaner who’s actually cleaned this room.”

“What were the others doing?”

“Exactly enough to get paid.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“I can see.”

A brief silence followed, not awkward, comfortable.

Then Jacob cleared his throat. 

“You’ve been working for hours. Would you like a glass of water?”

Amy looked at him as if he’d just offered her a winning lottery ticket.

 “You have no idea how badly I needed someone to ask me that.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“A very enthusiastic yes.”

He gestured toward the hallway. 

“The kitchen’s this way.” Amy picked up her gloves and followed him.

As they walked, she couldn’t help noticing that unlike the forgotten wing, this part of the house felt lived in. Fresh flowers sat on a long console table. 

The scent of coffee lingered in the air. Somewhere upstairs, a grandfather clock chimed the hour. And yet again, the old man was still there, this time on a call.

“So…” Jacob said as they entered the enormous kitchen.

‘This kitchen is bigger than my whole apartment,’ she thought to herself.

“…what made a marketing professional become a cleaner?”

Amy leaned against the marble island while he filled a glass with water.

“Life.”

He handed her the glass. The cold water soothed the dryness in her throat. She drank half of it before taking another breath.

“Best glass of water I’ve had all week.”

“I’ll accept that compliment on behalf of the kitchen.”

She laughed, then rested the glass on the counter.

 “To answer your question, the marketing company I worked for went bankrupt after the owner’s son took over.”

“I’m sorry.”

She gave him a small smile. “It happens.”

“It shouldn’t.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. 

Then Amy brightened.

 “Besides, if everything had gone according to plan, I wouldn’t be standing in a billionaire’s kitchen judging how dusty his house is.”

Jacob laughed again. “You really have no filter, do you?”

“I prefer to call it honesty.”

Just then a familiar voice drifted into the kitchen. 

“She’s coming back tomorrow?”

Amy turned. Zach stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. His gaze shifted from Jacob to the half-empty glass in Amy’s hand, then back to Amy. 

The warmth that had filled the kitchen a moment earlier seemed to cool by several degrees.

“She has to,” Jacob replied, leaning casually against the counter. “This house is too big to clean in one day.”

“It wouldn’t be,” Zach said coolly, “if she stayed out of rooms she wasn’t assigned to.”

Amy set the glass down. “I already apologized for the sculpture.”

“I’m not talking about the sculpture.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“The west wing.”

Amy folded her arms. “You mean the part of the house that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the dinosaurs walked the earth?”

Jacob coughed into his fist, unsuccessfully hiding a smile. Zach shot him a look, and Jacob straightened immediately. 

“What?” he said innocently.

Amy looked between the two brothers. “I’m sorry, but I was hired to clean the mansion. Nobody told me half of it was off-limits.”

“It is now.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

 For a second Zach thought she was finally giving in. Then she added,

 “I’ll just clean everything else so well that the dusty room gets jealous.”

Jacob laughed outright. Even Zach looked caught off guard. 

He shook his head once before reaching into the fruit bowl and picking up an apple.

“You talk too much.”

“My friends say the same thing.”

“I’m not your friend.”

“No,” she agreed. “Friends usually smile.”

With that, she gathered her cleaning supplies and walked out to finish her work for the day.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Zach asked, turning to Jacob, who was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

“No one’s ever spoken to you like that. Not since…”

“Don’t mention her name.” Zach cut him off before he could finish. He grabbed an apple from the counter and walked out of the kitchen.

Amy was already on the other side of the house, moving a heavy wooden table with what she liked to call her noodle arms, when Zach entered the hallway a few minutes later.

She held her breath and pushed, as if sheer willpower might somehow give her strength. She knew she couldn’t move it alone, but she couldn’t leave a house with a pile of dust sitting under that table and call it clean.

‘God, please let this table move,’ she pleaded silently, and just like that, it did. Skinny arms pushing beside hers, lending weight she didn’t have.

She looked up to thank whatever miracle had just occurred and found a hand with a flashy gold Rolex instead.

Not a miracle.

Zach.

He’d caught her completely off guard.

‘Isn’t he the same arrogant man who didn’t even want me cleaning his wing? Why is he helping now?’

He didn’t say a word. His eyes stayed fixed on the path ahead, his jaw set in a way that would’ve scared off anyone with a pulse.

For the first time all day, Amy actually felt the weight of his presence and decided not to get in his way.

As he reached his bedroom door, he paused for half a second.

“Don’t hurt your back.”

He didn’t even look at her.

Then he walked away.

Amy just stood there.

“Did he just…”

Her phone rang. Gabby.

“Hey babe.”

“Hey girl, how was the cleaning? How big’s the apartment?”

“This is no apartment. It’s a literal mansion. I just finished a whole section of it.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been cleaning for five hours.”

“Basically.” A giggle slipped out.

“You don’t even sound tired. I’d be gasping for air after one hour.”

They both laughed.

“I am tired,” Amy admitted, “but seeing how clean it looks makes it worth it. I’m heading home now. I have to be back tomorrow.”

“Okay, go rest. Bye, girl.”

Amy packed up, kept her supplies with her since she’d be back the next day, and headed home.

Dinner was leftover mac and cheese for the second night in a row.

A hot bath.

Bed.

Ten minutes should’ve been enough to knock her out after a day like that, but her mind kept circling back to the two brothers.

‘How do two people raised in the same house turn out so differently?’

“He did help me with the table, though,” she murmured to no one, eyes already closing.