4

Chapter 4

I picked up my vest from the stand, adjusted it carefully, and made myself presentable before stepping out of my room. As I passed through the hallway on my way to the family room, I noticed Richard's shoes scattered carelessly on the floor. Typical. I sighed, bent down to pick them up, and placed them neatly beside a large decorative vase.

When I entered the kitchen, Mrs. Davis was already there, whisking a bowl of batter with practiced ease. Mrs. Davis was the head of the housekeeping department and one of the older staff members who had been working for the Prestons for decades.

"What would Richie want to eat today?" she asked, not bothering to look up as she continued whisking.

I tied an apron around my waist and decided to help while we chatted about the upcoming party. "Something light, he said. Nothing specific."

"Hey, Evelyn," I began, using her first name as she always insisted, "When did Richard start looking like... that?"

She stopped whisking and raised an eyebrow at me. "What do you mean?"

How do I put this delicately?

"You know, like a jacked-up male model," I replied, trying to sound laid-back.

Evelyn let out a laugh. "Oh, that. Well, he started hitting the gym a few years ago. He's also part of a rowing club in college, I think. Haven't you seen his socials? He doesn't post much, but sometimes people tag him in photos."

"I don't really have any accounts."

"You really should create one," she said with a teasing smile. Then, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, she added, "You know, he asks about you sometimes."

I stopped chopping tomatoes mid-slice. "Who does?"

"Richard," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact.

That can't be right. Richard never called me in the past five years, and yesterday was the first time we'd seen each other since I left for college. "Really?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Yes," she said, nodding firmly. "He'd ask if you were doing well or what you were up to. You're friends with him, right? You practically grew up together."

I felt a flush of embarrassment. "Yes, we did," I muttered. If what she said was true, maybe Richard saw me as a friend after all. I'd always assumed he regarded me as just another one of his family's employees. Pushing the thought aside, I refocused on helping with breakfast.

*******

After breakfast, Richard spent most of the day locked in his room. By noon, Mr. and Mrs. Preston returned from their trip, and the rest of the day passed in a blur of preparations for the evening's celebration. By seven, the dinner party was in full swing, complete with lively music and entertainment from the host.

I was busy serving drinks when Mrs. Preston approached me, her expression a mix of concern and frustration.

"The party's already started, and Richard is nowhere to be found," she sounded a little bit stressed. "Would you please see to it that he's ready?"

I nodded. "Of course, ma'am." I handed the tray of drinks to one of the waitstaff before heading inside.

When I reached Richard's room, the door was closed. I knocked and called out, "Sir, the celebration began a few moments ago. Your mother is already looking for you."

No response.

"Sir?" I tried again, louder this time. Still nothing.

Damn it. If Richard didn't show up, I knew I'd be the one held responsible for the missing celebrant. Without waiting for his permission, I opened the door only to find out that he's already dressed but is currently laying on his bed busy with his phone.

I cleared my throat to get his attention.

"What?" he finally said.

"You're missing out on your own graduation party," I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

He scoffed. "I didn't even want a graduation party."

I strode over and snatched the phone from his hands, ignoring his glare. "Yes, but your parents are proud of you. At least have the decency to act like you wanted it."

I placed his phone on the table and tugged him upright, ignoring his resistance. As I straightened his clothes, I couldn't help but notice how firm his frame felt beneath his shirt. He was taller than me now, so I couldn't see his expression, but when I glanced up, he was smiling like a total idiot.

Ignoring his antics I asked him, "Where's your tie?"

He pointed to a nearby chair and I retrieved it, wrapping it around his neck to tie a Windsor knot. As I worked, I caught the faint scent of his cologne—the same one that had lingered on my bed.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he said suddenly, his voice tinged with amusement.

I gave a confused stare. "What?"

"Come on, it's obvious." He held my hands, stopping me mid-knot. "You find me attractive."

I looked up and squinted at him. The audacity of this guy. "I'm sorry sir but I'll have to say no." I jerked my hands away and finished tying his knot, adjusting his collar with a firm hand.

Before I could step back, he tilted my chin up with his fingers, his face mere inches from mine. His breath brushed against my skin, and his sly smile only made the moment more unsettling.

"Admit it," he whispered. "You've got a little crush on me. Look at yourself, blushing like a virgin."

His intense gaze made my heart race, but I couldn't tell if he was actually serious or just teasing. Thankfully, the tension was shattered when we heard footsteps approaching the room. I shoved him away instinctively.

"Richard, darling, what's taking so long?" Mrs. Preston's voice called from the hallway. God only knows how she'd react if she'd walked in to find our faces just inches apart.

Richard shrugged nonchalantly as if nothing happened before his mother entered the room. "Nothing. I'm all set. Carlton helped me dress." He grabbed his jacket and followed her out without another word.

I let out a long breath before loosening my tie. My throat felt parched, my nerves frayed. Damn him and his ridiculous jokes. After composing myself, I returned to the reception, putting on my neutral face.

"Everything alright, dear?" Evelyn asked as I passed by.

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied quickly.

She studied me for a moment, concern etched across her face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I forced a smile. "This is just my neutral face," I said, hoping to convince her.

Her skepticism lingered, but I turned my attention to the outdoor stage, where Richard stood with his parents as they gave a heartfelt speech about how proud they were of him.

Watching them, I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Their family looked so complete, so happy. Meanwhile, I'd spent my life without knowing my father and losing my mother far too soon.

I never knew my father, nor any other family members—if I even have any left. My mother was all I had and now she's gone. As I grew up, I pieced together her story: she got pregnant at a young age forcing her to drop out of college. My father, it turned out, was a married man and I was the product of that affair. The shame and disappointment brought on her family led to her being disowned, with no support from her parents. Left to fend for herself, she worked odd jobs to raise me until she was hired as a live-in housekeeper at the Preston estate. Thankfully, they allowed her to bring me along.

She never told me any of this outright, not even before she passed away. But I'd overhear bits and pieces of conversations she had with her co-workers. At the time, I didn't care much about their gossip. But as I got older, those fragments of dialogue started to paint a clearer picture of her struggles and my origins.

I don't have a social media account, which is probably why I barely recognized Richard when he came home. I usually excuse it by saying my phone is broken, but the truth is, I've never felt the need to create one. Even though I have an access to a laptop for work, I know there's no point in signing up. I tried once, but I deleted the account almost immediately when I realized I have no one. No family, no real close friends. Just people I encounter from day to day.

I felt myself feeling emotional and shit that I decided to take a break. Leaving my tray on a nearby table, I slipped away to my favorite spot in the back garden which is the wooden swing. I sat down, closed my eyes, and let the darkness and solitude soothe me.

At last, I was away from the crowd and the noise of rich people's chatter.

"What are you doing here?"

I almost jumped at the sound of Richard's voice, startled by his sudden appearance.

"Nothing," I said quickly, my voice quivering. "Just taking a short break." I feel like I just got caught doing something illegal.

He studied me, his gaze uncomfortably intense. "Is something bothering you?"

I laughed nervously. "No. Why would you think that?"

"You looked troubled when you left your post."

How did he even noticed that?  I scratched my arm even though there was no itch, it's just something I do when I'm nervous. For some reason, he had a way of making me uneasy. I could never quite figure out what was going on in his mind. Was he angry? Concerned? Disappointed? Sometimes, I wished I knew.

"I'm fine. I just felt the need to sit down."

He didn't seem convinced, but instead of pressing further, he sat down beside me. His eyes lingered on me, as if he was scrutinizing my thoughts so I focused my gaze on the ground, on the plain pavement to escape his powerful eyes.

The silence between us was heavy. Neither of us spoke. We just stared at bed of flowers and plants which is barely even visible in the dark of night. The cold wooden chair suddenly felt warm with the presence of another but it also made me feel like I was burning with the awkwardness of this encounter.

Unable to bear it any longer, I stood abruptly. "I need to get back," I declared as a way of asking for his permission to leave.

Without waiting for his response, I walked away, leaving him behind. The Richard I thought I knew was long gone, replaced by someone unfamiliar and unreachable—a stranger who bore little resemblance to the boy I once knew.