Chapter 6

The doorbell rang, jolting Jonas from the couch.

“What took you so long?” Jonas asked as he opened the door and Timmy walked in.

“Traffic,” Timmy scoffed, walking in with two cups of coffee in his hands.

Timmy arched a brow as he glanced around. “Why are you the one answering the door? And why is the house so quiet? Where is everyone?”

“I asked them to take a break,” Jonas replied calmly.

“Why?”

“Are you here to question me or get your work done?” Jonas asked, his eyes fixed on the papers in his hand.

“Right! Sorry about that.” Timmy handed him the documents. “Here is the paperwork you asked for.”

“Why did you decide to work from home? Does this mean you will not be coming into the office this week?”

“Timmy, enough with the questions. I already told you I would be working from home for now.” Jonas sat up and began flipping through the documents.

“This does not look right. Timmy, are you sure these are the correct documents?”

“Yes. They came straight from the secretary’s desk.”

“Send these to the operations department and have them review them,” Jonas said, handing the documents back to Timmy.

“All right, boss.” Timmy took the papers. “Have you had something to eat? Or would you like to grab something with me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Jonas scoffed.

They both chuckled.

“I would not dare,” Timmy replied with a grin. “I am just asking you to come get something to eat so you do not collapse from hunger. You asked all your staff to take a break, including your chef. Who does that?”

“Go ahead without me. I will order something when I get hungry. Besides, I do not want to be seen out in public right now. I do not have the energy to deal with people staring at me.”

“My main priority right now is this deal. I want the proposal submitted by the end of the week, so tell the operations department to get back to me as soon as possible.”

“I will take care of it,” Timmy replied, rising to his feet.

“Right, Timmy. I have not heard back from you. It has been two weeks, and you still have not found the artist.” Jonas frowned as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Has she still not called you?” Timmy asked. “I guess my message never got through.”

“I will go find her again.”

“Make it quick, Timmy. I really need to meet with her,” Jonas said before heading upstairs. “You can lock the door behind you.”

“All right, boss.” Timmy walked out, closing the door behind him.

“Gabby, did you really have to tell him that?” Audrey asked.

“Of course I did, Audrey! If I do not shut him up like that, he is going to keep making those shitty comments,” Gabby defended herself.

“It is all right. Let us go change and head home. Our shift is over.” Audrey paused before giving her a pointed look. “You are still coming over to my place, right?”

“I do not think so. I am really tired. I think I should head home first,” Gabby said, avoiding Audrey’s eyes.

“I knew you were going to say that. But you promised you would come and look at my painting before I deliver it. And you know this one is really important to me. It has to be perfect.”

“Yes, I know I promised, but you saw how hectic today was,” Gabby said, leaning forward to take Audrey’s hand.

“Yeah, right. I will just call Alex to come over and look at it instead.”

“Is he back?” Gabby asked almost immediately.

“Yes, he is. Take care, then. I will head home first.”

“Wait, Audrey! You know what? I think it is best if two people give their opinions. That way, you will have more feedback to work with,” Gabby suggested. “So, yeah, you can call him while I come over, too. We will both give you our opinions.”

“Are you sure about that? You said a few minutes ago that you were tired.” Audrey’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah… I think I still have a little energy left in me,” Gabby replied.

“All right, then. Let us go.”

They left the diner and headed to Audrey’s house.

“Why is he not here yet?” Gabby asked with a frown. “We have been here for thirty minutes, and he still has not shown up.”

“Oh, right! I forgot to tell you. He said he had something important to take care of and would not be able to make it,” Audrey replied casually.

The disappointment on Gabby’s face was unmistakable.

“I really thought I would get to see him today,” she muttered.

“Did you say something?” Audrey asked, pretending not to hear her.

“No, nothing,” Gabby replied, rolling her eyes.

“I think I should head home now. My job here is done.”

“Will you not have lunch before you leave?” Audrey asked, looking concerned.

“I will eat when I get home. Besides, you will be heading out soon, so I might as well get going,” Gabby replied as she got off the bed. She leaned over, gave Audrey a quick peck on the cheek, and added, “I will see you later.”

With that, she walked out, leaving Audrey staring after her.

Audrey knew Gabby was disappointed that she had not gotten to see Alex that day. She had always noticed the change in Gabby’s attitude whenever Alex was around, but she kept her thoughts to herself and pretended not to notice a thing.

After taking a shower, Audrey felt refreshed. She walked over to her closet and began rummaging through it, searching for something in particular.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed when she finally pulled out a yellow floral dress.

“Dress for the job you want, not the job you have." right?” she muttered to herself as she slipped into it.

“I am not going to let those rich people look down on me. That is what people like them do, is it not?”

She stood before the large mirror, turning slightly to examine how the dress fit.

“I think I look good,” she said, giving herself an approving nod.

But as she admired her reflection, another thought crept into her mind.

Why did they insist that I deliver this painting myself? I could easily have sent it through a courier service. Why me?

She had no answers, and the more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became.

And it could have been any other family. Why the Harringtons?

Audrey swallowed hard.

She had heard about the Harringtons all her life and how strict they could be, but she had never imagined she would meet any of them in person. After all, they were one of the wealthiest families in West Virginia. People like that lived in a world far removed from hers.

Is this my lucky break, or am I in for trouble?

A loud car horn outside snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, shoot!”

She hurried to grab her purse from the bed, then picked up the neatly wrapped painting and rushed downstairs.

“James, I am heading out!” she called as she made her way to the front door.

She pulled it shut behind her and hurried toward the waiting car.

“Good afternoon, miss,” the driver greeted her, reaching for the painting.

“No, thank you. I would rather keep it with me,” Audrey replied, holding the package close.

“Would you not be more comfortable if I put it in the trunk?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, thank you. I would rather keep it beside me so I can keep an eye on it.”

Without waiting for a response, she carefully placed the painting on the back seat and settled in beside it.

The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror before starting the car.

“It must be really important to you,” he remarked.

“It is,” Audrey replied, a little too quickly.

The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb.

The ride was mostly silent, but Audrey’s heart continued to pound. She tried to relax, yet her thoughts kept returning to the same question: why had the Harringtons insisted that she deliver the painting herself?

In all her years of painting, she had never imagined that she would one day create a piece for the Harringtons, let alone deliver it to their home in person.

She had received the commission a week earlier through a phone call, much like many of the other orders she usually received. After confirming the details, she had received full payment and set to work.

Everything had gone smoothly until the previous day, when she had been preparing to arrange delivery.

That was when the client had called again, informing her that the painting had to be delivered directly to the Harringtons’ residence.

She had been surprised by the request, but the caller had been firm. No explanation had been offered, and Audrey had not wanted to risk losing the commission by asking too many questions.

Now, sitting in the back seat with the painting beside her, she was beginning to wonder whether she should have asked more.

“We are here, ma’am,” the driver announced.

Audrey blinked, realizing they had arrived.

“Oh. Okay.” She reached for her purse and handed him the agreed fare before opening the door and stepping out.

With the painting held securely in her arms, she stood before an enormous white mansion. The property was surrounded by tall gates, and the immaculate grounds stretched far beyond the entrance.

For a moment, she simply stared.

“Oh, God. I cannot believe this is happening,” she whispered.

She adjusted her grip on the painting and took a deep breath.

Then, forcing herself to move, she walked toward the security checkpoint at the entrance.