Chapter 4: Judgment in the Main House

“Jamie Morales.” Everett laughed, half annoyed, half amused. “I’m not a monster. Do you really need to be that scared?”

To be honest, Everett is the kindest boss in the whole mansion. The East Wing isn’t as stuffy as other parts, but rather peaceful.

If not for that night, and hearing he wanted to silence that person, I wouldn’t be so afraid of him.

He sighed. “Come here.”

I lowered my head and walked over.

“Sharpen this pencil for me.”

I carefully grabbed the sharpener and tried to focus.

Hands used to chopping pork and onions aren’t great for delicate work. I pressed too hard and snapped the pencil, the tip flying up and hitting me in the face.

Instinctively, I rubbed it, only to see Everett staring right at me, so I quickly apologized.

Everett’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “Little tabby cat.”

“Huh?” I was stunned.

He beckoned me with his finger, looking more amused than anything. “Bend down.”

I hesitated, awkward and nervous, then bent over.

His sleeve brushed my face.

The fabric was soft and smooth, with a faint cologne scent.

His movements were gentle, his expression focused.

In his dark eyes, I could see my own face reflected.

Somehow, my cheeks felt hot.

I curled my toes. “Sir, is it done?”

“All done.” He smiled, lifting his sleeve stained with pencil shavings. “It’s wiped clean.”

“Th-thank you…”

But what I was really thinking was, pencil shavings are a pain to get out. Mrs. Torres, who does the laundry, will probably curse me again.

Maybe I’ll bring her some pulled pork later.

She loves it too.

After that, Everett focused on his work.

Sometimes he frowned, sometimes he smiled.

Sometimes he chewed on the end of his pen, thinking.

Sometimes he wrote fast, like he was inspired.

I stood with my hands in my sleeves, watching his little gestures, and didn’t feel bored at all.

Turns out, rich folks bleed and get hungry just like the rest of us.

Suddenly, Everett put down his pen and raised his brows at me. “You planning to let me die of thirst?”

Only then did I realize I’d forgotten to refill his coffee mug.

Everett took a sip and asked casually, “Jamie, you’re not a kid anymore. Do you have someone you like?”

It sounded like small talk, but also like he was fishing for something.

I replied, “I do.”

“Oh?” Everett perked up, propping his chin up. “What kind of person?”

I counted Maribel’s good points on my fingers:

“Really pretty, really smart, super capable, and really kind.”

The more I spoke, the brighter Everett’s eyes became, reminding me for some reason of the big golden retriever at home who always looked proud when praised.

I silently apologized twice in my heart.

How could I compare the Governor’s son to a dog?

Everett asked again, “You haven’t seen her for so many years—do you still remember her name?”

“How could I forget? Her name is Maribel Alvarez, two years older than me. Her family lived at the foot of the hill on Willow Lane, and when she was ten, they moved to the farmers’ market and opened a cheese stall!”

I knew everything about Maribel by heart.

Whenever I thought of her, I thought of that soft, creamy mac and cheese, and couldn’t help but smile.

“Six years without seeing her, I wonder how she’s doing…”

“Maribel?” Everett’s smile gradually faded.

He pointed to the door and said through gritted teeth, “Get out!”

Me: “Huh?”

Why did he turn hostile so fast?

Weren’t we just chatting happily?

Honestly, Everett’s mood swings are wilder than a Midwest thunderstorm.

Then the Governor’s wife suddenly summoned me to the main house.

Mr. Allen once taught us lowly staff that we don’t get to see the big bosses often.

If you get called in, there are only two reasons: either you’ve screwed up and will get chewed out, or you’ve somehow gotten on their good side. Guess which one’s more likely.

On the way, I thought back over my six years at the mansion and concluded—

I must have accidentally ticked off the Governor’s wife, and she’s going to fire me.

The current Governor’s wife, nicknamed ‘Saffron,’ is notorious for bringing bad luck to anyone who crosses her.

Mr. Allen once said, as long as you admit your mistake quickly and sincerely, you might catch her off guard and get a lighter scolding. Playing dumb is the way to survive.

So, when I saw the Governor’s wife, I immediately dropped to my knees, bowing my head, and begged for mercy.

“Ma’am, I know I messed up, I know I messed up…”

As I spoke, I banged my head so hard it started to sting. Just trying to look extra sorry.

After that dramatic display, even the Governor’s wife was stunned.

For a moment, there was silence.

The first to speak was the young woman beside her.

“Aunt, is this the one?”

She spoke with obvious disdain.

“A guy, and he still had the nerve to go after Everett!”