Chloe gathered the clothes Theresa had instructed her to handle, her hands trembling slightly as she approached the laundry room. The towering piles of garments, some fresh from the dryer yet still requiring pressing, seemed overwhelming. A sharp pang of hunger gnawed at her stomach, and she squatted against the wall, pressing her hand over her abdomen.

"God I am so hungry..." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"Hey."

The single word made her jerk upright. Jordan stood in the doorway, relaxed but impossible to ignore. There was a quiet pull to him, and the calm, teasing way he spoke made her catch her breath.

He held out a small package of sourdough bread and a medium pack of yogurt. “Have this.”

Chloe blinked, surprised. For a fleeting moment, she forgot the oppressive weight of the mansion and the exhausting day.

She hesitated, unsure if she should feel grateful or flustered, then she allowed a small smile to spread across her face.

“Why are you blushing?” he asked, startling her.

“I am not blushing. I am just... smiling,” she said quietly, wishing her face would stop betraying her.

“Well, your smile is blushing,” he countered with a smirk.

“You are... silly,” she muttered, cheeks warming.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “What did you say?”

"I said... thank you,” she whispered, unsure why her chest tightened at his nearness.

"No. You said something else."

Chloe could not reply as they heard the sound.of approaching feet.

Before she could react, Jordan scooped up the snacks and, almost impossibly, dove into the broken industrial washing machine, disappearing behind its metallic bulk. Chloe quickly draped a bedsheet over it. Not sure why she did that.

Theresa appeared with another basket of laundry, heavy and brimming with expensive fabrics. “These belong to Mister Cavanaugh. I expect you to know that not everything goes in the machine. Handle carefully.”

Then she added in a warning tone, "In fact, be very careful with everything you do here. Perhaps I should let you know, Lily could be a storm to handle sometimes. Jordan can be super sly and super devilish, like a ... puzzle. So beware. Their mother is, calculative. Observe and learn quickly. You will need it.” She left as abruptly as she came, leaving Chloe breathless and a little more aware of the house’s unspoken rules.

Jordan emerged from the shadows a moment later, carrying her untouched snack.

She stared at him; Super sly and super devilish. Plus, super handsome.

His grin was infuriatingly confident. “Yeah, I'm a super guy. And none of Theresa’s warnings are the whole truth.”

He handed her the meal. Chloe could not say no.

He yawned and stretched. "You are lucky I will be free for the rest of the evening, so l will help you iron this batch." He pointed to a heap by the corner.

Chloe felt herself drawn to him, she wanted to step back in caution but fascination rooted her to the spot.

"You want to help me?" She wasn't sure she had heard him right.

“Yup. Don’t I look like a nice guy?” He opened a cabinet and selected an iron, then plucked a long, exquisite gown from a pile.

“So…you grew up in Nebraska?” he asked casually as he plugged in the iron.

“Yes,” she answered, not sure why her heart was racing.

“Where? Countryside?” he pressed, his eyes scanning her features as if reading a secret.

“Why do you think so?” she asked, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. He had probably gone through her papers already.

He exhaled slowly, stretching the gown across the board. “You look... There’s a groundedness about you. Different from the city air here.”

Chloe almost dropped her bread. “Is that a compliment? Or you're being sarcastic?”

Mischief danced briefly in his eyes. “You can decide.”

She finished her snack hastily, focusing on the laundry to steady her racing heart.

“Warning,” he said suddenly, gesturing to another iron. “Do not make use of this one I am holding. It is quite faulty. You can make use of that green one instead.”

Chloe gasped at the big triangular hole in Lily's dress just after the smell of something burning got to her nose.

"Oh my God, Mister Cavanaugh!" her trembling hands threw themselves across her mouth.

“What? Never seen a burnt gown? Tell whoever asks, that you used a faulty iron, cos you didn't know. And consider this, a lesson... and a gift,” he said with an air of nonchalance.

“Think of it as a uhm, payback. For calling Lily spoiled, and for enjoying your meal without owing me.” He added.

“I don’t understand you,” she murmured, her voice breaking.

“Neither do I,” he admitted, shrugging, eyes softening for the briefest instant. “But I have always wanted to see this gown like this. It is prettier now. By the way, it is, Jordan. Without the Mister bla bla.” He winked and stepped back, leaving her to absorb the complexity of his presence.

The thought of twenty dollars an hour echoed in her mind, a faint comfort against the dizzying uncertainty of the house.

Chloe assisted Theresa in serving dinner later that evening. The overpowering aroma of the meal called out to her being and her mouth ached to have a taste so badly, even if it was just a spoon and a bite of chicken.

She set the bowl of chicken down and turned away quietly.

Jordan cleared his throat.

Chloe would learn later that this was never a good sign.

“Theresa,” he said coolly, “why didn’t you show Chloe the grey iron, since the red one is faulty? A beautiful dress didn’t have to be ruined.”

The room went still.

Theresa paused with the wine glasses in her hands. “What?” She lowered them carefully, confusion written on her face.

Lily arched a perfectly carved brow. Lina kept her gaze on her plate, as though nothing had been said.

“What dress?” Lily asked. “What are you talking about, Jordan? And how would you know?”

Chloe froze halfway to the kitchen.

“If she had been properly informed,” Jordan continued calmly, “she would not have used the damaged iron. The accident was avoidable.”

Theresa was momentarily dazed. “I did tell her. I showed her everything. I specifically warned her...”

“Whose dress?” Lily interrupted.

“You did not, Theresa” Jordan said firmly. “I was there when you came into the laundry room. You didn’t see me because I stepped out onto the balcony.”

Lily’s fingers curled against the table. “Whose. Dress?”

“You educated her,” Jordan went on, unbothered, “on how Lily could be a thorn in the flesh or something like that, and how I am supposedly some kind of superman.”

“That is not true. Ask her,” Theresa said quickly.

“Whose dress?!” Lily slammed her palm against the table.

Jordan counted silently. Three. Third time asking.

“Yours,” he said. “The one Dad ordered from France last week. Why was it at the laundry by the way?”

Time paused.

Lily’s chair screeched as she shoved it back and bolted from the room.

"Did you actually call my daughter names?" Lina asked after a moment's silence.

"Ma'am, to be sincere, I don't know what Mister Cavanaugh is talking about. I told Chloe about the iron before I left her to do the laundry."

Chloe stopped breathing. Theresa had told her nothing. "No, you didn't." She said softly, the words slipping out before fear could stop them.

"Shut up!" Lina yelled and hurled an empty wine glass at Chloe who dodged instinctively as it shattered against the wall. "Believe me young lady, if this is true, there will be no salary for you till I make sure you have made a full payment for it. I can promise you that."

“Theresa,” Jordan said mildly, tearing into his roulade, “you just called me a liar, few seconds ago.”

Theresa shook her head, mouthing a silent no, her face pale.

Lily stormed back in moments later, the gown clutched in her hands. She wiped it violently across Theresa’s face, knocking her off balance, then lunged for Chloe, grabbing her collar and slamming her back into the wall.

Jordan caught Lily’s wrist in the air.

“Don’t be an animal,” he said calmly. “She couldn’t have known.”

“She is the animal!” Lily screamed. “That dress was for my prom. Limited edition. You know what it costs!”

“Your food is getting cold, sweetheart,” Lina said, standing. “Let’s eat first and deal with this later.”

“Trash it. I’m done!” Lily sobbed, fleeing upstairs with the ruined gown.

Lina went after her daughter.

Chloe retreated into the kitchen. To her surprise, no tears came. Hunger dulled everything, the humiliation, the pain, even fear. The scent of food clung stubbornly to her thoughts.

Theresa entered some minutes later. “Do you need a formal announcement to clean that mess?” she snapped, gesturing at the broken glass.

“You told Jordan what I said,” she accused.

“No,” Chloe shook her head frantically. “I didn’t.”

“Then how did he know?”

“He…” Chloe stared at the floor, words failing her.

Theresa said nothing else and stormed out.

Chloe returned to the dining room with a broom and dustpan. Jordan sat alone now, unhurried, finishing his meal.

After clearing the shards, she met Theresa getting ready to leave the house.

“Clear the table and throw the rest out.”

Chloe stared. “Ma’am?”

“Throw it away. They don’t eat leftovers.”

The food could have fed her family for days and she was just asked to dispose it knowing how hungry she was. Or was that a way of indirectly asking her to take it?

“Only the leftovers,” Theresa amended, grabbing her bag.

Chloe said nothing more and went ahead to clear the table. She paused and observed the delicate cutlery and the stylish way in which Theresa had set out the meal. The thought of taking some to her family made her mouth water. She smiled and brought out her phone from her pocket. She could take a nice picture of the pretty meal. As her thumb hovered over the camera icon, she felt someone behind her. Her heart beating fast, she turned around slowly...

Lina Cavanaugh stood a few feet behind her, hands on her hips. The whites of her eyes were almost invisible, narrowed into slits, yet the glare was so intense it seemed to pierce right through Chloe.

Chloe’s shoulders dropped.

"You are barely a day old here and you have already made such a mess," Lina spat, her tone filled with disdain. She waved a cream colored slip of paper in Chloe’s face. "I don't have much to say to you. You're fired. That’s the cost of the dress you ruined. You have one month to pay up."

With trembling hands, Chloe collected the bill. Her eyes fell on the figures printed on the page and her heart plummeted. Colour drained from her face. Her knees buckled beneath her, giving way as she crumpled to the floor, the paper clutched tightly in her hands.

She stared at it for what felt like forever. She had never seen, let alone owned, that kind of money in her entire life and now, just like that, she was in debt of such an amount.

Slowly, she broke into a laugh, she paused and laughed louder. Then she cried. Tears spilling down her cheeks as her body shook.

It was insane. She had come here to earn money to support her family, but ended up earning a huge debt. She paused and sniffed. Suddenly having a rethink. How was she even at fault? She was not the one who made the mess. She had not even touched that dress.

When she looked up, Lina was gone. But Jordan stood there, watching her with a curious, almost amused expression.

"That is… weird," he muttered, head tilted. "You are weird. What’s with the laughing and crying? Just pick one." He gave a sharp snort.

Chloe had not even realize she was glowering at him until she caught the weight of his gaze. The nemesis of her problem, looking so good in his plain white T-shirt and Jimi jacket. The subtle scent of his cologne drifted through the air, masculine and expensive.

When she did not reply, he shrugged casually. "Alright then. You can have the whole ground to yourself." He strolled off, leaving her in silence.

Chloe watched him till he was out of the door. Then she sighed, gathering herself up from the floor. She returned to clearing up the dishes. It was getting quite late, and she still had to make it back to Alamosa tonight.

It was late when she walked out of the estate. But she was scared of ordering a ride. She would rather walk all the way to the nearest bus stop despite the distance for she was low on funds.

Ten minutes into her trek, Chloe slowed. Up ahead, Jordan stood by the road, locked in a heated argument with a blonde. Two sleek cars were parked at the curb.

Chloe drew back, her pace cautious. She could not hear the full argument, but the cuss words flung into the night were unmistakable. At one point, the blonde swung her hand for his face. Jordan caught it midair, shoving her back so hard she nearly lost her balance.

He dragged her toward the red Porsche, yanked the driver’s door open, and shoved her inside.

"I hate you Jordan. I hate you.. never loved anything about you" the blonde screamed and added a string of cuss words.

Jordan’s reply was just as sharp. "Get the hell out of this estate before I call the police on you, you slut!"

The Porsche engine roared as she slammed the door, reversed recklessly, and tore off down the street.

Jordan sighted Chloe just as he was about to get in his car. Why was she staring at him like that? Just like back when he had met her crying at the dining. He did not like the look. Still seething with rage, he closed the distance between them.

Somehow, he felt the rage fly away for a fleeting second, replaced with some sort of feeling, which he quickly tried to fight off. He clenched his jaw, forcing the rage back. What was that? He thought.

"Why are you staring at me like that, dunce?" His voice was sharp and dismissive. "Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Something else to look at?"

His face was close, too close, the sharp angles of his features illuminated under the streetlight. His eyes were like steel, cold yet mesmerizing. Chloe’s heart flipped inside her chest. Why did he have to shove his face in hers?

" It is my eyes bro. You don't get to tell me what to do with them. You, keep your eyes somewhere else too" Chloe heard herself say.

Jordan chuckled despite himself. Did she just call him bro? He was suddenly aware of the pain in her eyes, and dried tears by the corner of her eyes. She had full lips, sitting gracefully on her pretty face. Though disheveled and weary, she was beautiful. Distractingly so. His fingers twitched with the urge to brush a strand of hair from her cheek, and he scowled at himself for even thinking it.

He wanted to to yell at her for not cleaning up her face. He scowled. Where the heck was all of that coming from?

"If you really want to make it back to Alamosa tonight, you had better hurry. Dunce" he turned away abruptly.

"Dunce?" Chloe echoed under her breath. "That is not my name!" she shouted after him.

"I don’t care what the hell your name is. Just get out of this place already." he replied without turning back.

But Chloe was boiling now. Why did she have to go through all the stress when the real culprit was just there having fun? Of course the amount was no big deal to him and he could pay it with just a snap of his fingers but it was not so for her. She dashed forward, pulled a folded note from her trench coat, and shoved it against his palm. "That’s the bill for the gown YOU ruined."

Jordan merely glanced at the note, he threw it at her. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Are you really asking me that, Jordan?, Chloe fought back tears, how could he be so mean. "You were the one who ruined the dress, not me. You set me up for reasons I don't know why. I came here to make money, not to secure a debt. What did I ever do to you to deserve this ill treatment " Chloe didn't realize she was shouting.

Jordan’s jaw hardened. "You sure have a lot of guts, raising your voice at me, you little wench."

Chloe let out a bitter laugh. "Is that the problem now? That I’m raising my voice? Well, why shouldn’t I, Mister Cavanaugh?"

Jordan narrowed his eyes at her.

"Is that really how you intend to converse with your boss?"

Chloe turned a three sixty degree. "Which boss? I don't see no one" and then it dawned on her, "oh, your mum fired me. Thanks to you. I was kicked out of the house on my first day, and as if that was not enough, I have to pay for something I did not even do" her voice broke. She wiped away fresh tears with her fingers, frustrated and broken.

For the first time, Jordan felt something sharp stab at his chest. Guilt. He hated it. He turned quickly, wanting to walk away, but Chloe latched onto his arm.

"Please," she sobbed, clinging desperately. "Please I don't have this much money. That's why I came here to work. I'm sorry. I am very sorry for all the things I've ever done to you. I'm so sorry. I'm leaving your house already. Just let me leave in peace".

"Sorry for what?" he asked, flummoxed and feeling mightily uneasy.

"I don't know" Chloe cried harder, "I don't know what I ever did to you but whatever it is, I'm sorry".

That was it. He yanked his arm free. Chloe dropped to the ground like a sack of grain, curling in on herself sobbing hysterically.

Jordan turned away, hating himself, hating her tears, hating the strange tightness in his chest. He hurried to his car and drove off.

Chloe sat there by the road hugging her knees and crying. It was getting dark. She got up when she noticed the headlights of an approaching car.

Sniffing, she picked up her duffel bag. She felt terrible. Why was she such a cry baby?

The car stopped by her side.