His words hang in the air between us, uncomfortably perceptive and impossible to dismiss.
4
DECLAN
"Some jobs change you," I say, watching the tension in Ethan's shoulders. "And this one's already changing you, Boss."
My words hang between us in the quiet of the pool house. Ethan doesn't respond, just gives me that level stare he uses when he doesn't want to admit I'm right. Not that I need his confirmation. I've known him long enough to recognize when something, or someone, has gotten under his skin.
It's been less than twenty-four hours since we met Jade Sinclair, and already the job feels different. Usually, the first day involves establishing security protocols and doing thorough assessments. Instead, Ethan made the unprecedented decision to move us all in, and the tension from yesterday's awkward first meeting still lingers in the air.
Morning light filters through the windows of the pool house, casting long shadows across the polished concretefloors. I've been up since 4 AM, keeping watch, checking perimeters, making mental notes of security weaknesses. Old habits. Prison teaches you to be alert even in your sleep, and two years inside doesn't wash away easily.
Mateo's still asleep, sprawled across his bed like he doesn't have a care in the world. In some ways, he doesn't. That's the thing about the him. He bounces through life with an ease I've never known. Everything's a joke, a game, an opportunity. I used to find it irritating as hell, but now I understand it's just who he is. It's why Ethan and I feel so protective of him, though neither of us would ever admit it.
I check my watch. 0730. Late by my standards, but I doubt our client is an early riser. From what little I've seen of Jade Sinclair, she seems like the type to sleep until noon and expect the world to wait for her. The "Ice Queen," as the tabloids call her.
Not that I put much stock into what they say. Criticism is often a confession. And I know better than to judge others. God knows, I have been on the receiving end of superficial judgments, not to do the same to others. But first impressions matter, and hers wasn't great.
Though I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed other things too. The way she held herself despite obvious pain. The flicker of genuine fear in her eyes when she saw that note. The freckles across her nose that somehow made her seem more real than the glossy magazine covers I've seenher on.
Not that it matters. I'm here to do a job, not get distracted by a pretty face. Even a very pretty face framed by copper hair that caught the sunlight like...
The sound of the front door opening pulls me from my thoughts. Ethan enters, back from his perimeter check, a paper bag in one hand and a drink carrier in the other.
"Found a coffee place down the road," he explains, setting everything on the kitchen counter. "Figured we could use it."
Before either of us can grab a cup, there's a knock at the door. Ethan and I exchange a glance, instantly alert. No one should be able to get past the front gate without us knowing.
I move to the side of the door while Ethan approaches directly, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon.
"Hello? Mr. Cross? Are you in there?" A female voice, young, uncertain.
Ethan relaxes slightly but doesn't drop his guard entirely as he opens the door.
Standing on our doorstep is a young woman, probably early twenties, with a bright smile and a tablet clutched to her chest. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she's dressed in what I assume passes for business casual in California: flowing pants, a silky top, and sandals that look both expensive and impractical.
"Hi! I'm Sophie, Jade's assistant." She extends her hand to Ethan, who takes it automatically. "I'm sorry to bother youso early, but Miss Sinclair would like to speak with you in the main house at your earliest convenience."
The way she says it makes it clear that "earliest convenience" means "right now."
"Of course," Ethan says smoothly. "We were just about to have coffee. Would you care to join us?"
Sophie looks momentarily flustered. "Oh! Um, I should really get back. Miss Sinclair is waiting, and she doesnotlike waiting... Um, also, I need to know what you like to eat."
Ethan and I look at each other puzzled and then at Sophie waiting for clarification.
"For the meals, you know, like, we have a catering service that provides all the meals, and like, if you are going to stay here for a while, I need to know your preferences, allergies, stuff like that. It's all here in this list, you can add any information you want. You can give me the list later on." She stops suddenly. "Anyway, she's waiting. In the living room."
She offers another bright smile before turning to leave, nearly tripping over a potted plant as she does.
When she's gone, I raise an eyebrow at Ethan. "The Queen summons her subjects. Well, who's gonna bend the knee?"
Ethan sighs. "Let's wake up Mateo and head over."
"Why? She only needs one of us to lay down the ground rules. The other two can keep working on security."I take a sip of the coffee Ethan brought. Black, no sugar, just how I like it. "Besides, after yesterday's first impression, I doubt she wants to see all three of us at once."
"Valid point," he concedes. "Who goes?"
