"I don't need the technical details," she interrupts, though not unkindly. "Just tell me it'll work."
"It'll work," I promise. "No one gets in or out without us knowing."
She nods, seemingly satisfied. There's an awkward pause as she shifts her weight, like she wants to say something else but isn't sure how to begin.
"Listen," I say, seizing the moment. "I've been meaning to apologize properly. For what you overheard that first day. I was out of line, making assumptions about you based on... well, not much at all."
She studies me for a long moment, her green eyes unreadable. "You're not the first person to think the worst of me based on tabloid nonsense. Probably won't be the last."
"Still," I press. "It wasn't cool. I like to think I'm better than that."
"No, it wasn't cool," she agrees, but her tone has softened. "Apology accepted."
I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. I hadn't realized how much it had been bothering me, that rocky first impression. I pride myself on reading people well, on understanding them quickly. But I'd gotten Jade all wrong from the start, and that mistake has been nagging at me more than I'd care to admit.
"So we're good?" I ask, offering my most charming smile.
The corner of her mouth twitches upward. "Let's say we're better."
Progress. I'll take it.
"Your Spanish is pretty good, by the way," she comments, surprising me with the change of subject. "Where did you learn it?"
"Cuba," I explain. "Grew up speaking it at home with my mom. Curious about me, are you?"
She shrugs. "If three strange men are going to live in my house, I think I'm entitled to know something about them."
"Fair enough. Though I prefer 'intriguing' to 'strange.'"
She laughs, light and unguarded, like the sound slipped out before she could catch it. It punches a grin right out of me. I want to hear it again. Which is... not great.
For a split second, I see beyond the Ice Queen, beyond the model, to the woman underneath all those carefully constructed layers.
"Hey, excuse me?" One of the technicians, the T-name guy, approaches, interrupting the moment. He's young, maybe mid-twenties, with an eager expression that immediately puts me on alert. "Sorry to interrupt, but aren't you Jade?"
Her eyes flicker, just for a second, then the wall slams down. Cool, unreadable, untouchable. Jade's posture shifts instantly, the openness vanishing, replaced by thecool, professional mask I've come to recognize. "Yes," she acknowledges simply.
"I thought so!" The guy beams, seemingly oblivious to her change in demeanor. "My girlfriend loves your work. She has that perfume ad you did on her vision board. Would it be okay if I got a quick selfie with you? She'd absolutely flip."
I wince internally. Bad timing, bad approach. Anyone who's spent more than five minutes around celebrities knows there's a protocol to this kind of thing. You don't just walk up and ask for photos, especially not when they're in their own home.
"No," Jade says, her voice returning to that flat, cold tone I heard the first day. I see it happen in real time. The warmth drains from her face. Her shoulders stiffen. Her entire posture shifts like a drawbridge slamming shut.
"I don't do selfies or autographs."
The tech's eager smile falters. "Oh... sorry, I just thought..."
"You thought wrong," she cuts him off, then turns to me. "Let me know when they're finished. I'll be in my studio."
Without another word, she walks away, her back straight, her steps measured and deliberate.
The tech stares after her, his face flushed with embarrassment and something else. Anger, maybe, or resentment. "Wow," he mutters. "They weren't kidding about the Ice Queenthing."
I should let it go. It's none of my business how Jade handles her fans or her image. The guy was out of line, even if he didn't realize it. But something in his tone ignites a spark in me.
"Back to work," I tell him, keeping my voice neutral. "We've got three more sensors to install before lunch."
He doesn't move, still staring down the now-empty hallway. "Cold bitch," he mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear.
