Breathe (Sea Breeze #1)(4)
Author: Abbi Glines

The pan in the kitchen with the noodles in it whistled letting me know the food needed to be checked. Jessica wasn’t going to get up and check things out anytime soon. I hurried back into the small kitchen, took out a spaghetti noodle on a fork, and slung it at the wall behind the stove. It stuck. It was ready.

"Real y, Sadie, why you toss noodles on the wall is beyond me. Where did you get such an insane idea?"

I flipped my gaze up and over at Jessica. She kicked back on the faded pastel couch, which came with the apartment, in my bikini.

"I saw it on the television once when I was younger. It has stuck with me ever since. Besides it works." "It’s disgusting is what it is," Jessica mumbled from her spot on the couch.

She couldn’t boil water if she wanted to, but I decided to bite my tongue and finish with dinner. "It’s ready, Mom," I said as I scooped a pile of spaghetti onto a plate, knowing she would ask me to bring her one.

"Bring me a plate, will ya, honey." I smirked. I was a step ahead of her. She rarely got up these days unless she absolutely had to. I slipped a fork and spoon onto the plate and took it to her. She didn’t even sit up. Instead, she placed it on the shelf of a belly she’d developed and ate. I placed a glass of sweet iced tea down beside her and went back to fix my own. I’d worked up an appetite today. I needed food.

Chapter Two

I didn’t have to be searched, and I was even given a card to show at the gate when I arrived from here on out. Things went much smoother. Fran even smiled at me once. After lunch, Ms. Mary sent me to the third floor, which housed most of the bedrooms. It was easy to forget whose house I cleaned. I had no friends to tell about the job. Not thinking about the fact I stood in the rooms where the hottest teen star in the world would be sleeping al summer wasn’t real y so big of a deal. I stepped into his bedroom and spun around. This wasn’t a typical teenage boy’s room. It seemed so comfortable it struck me as odd.

One wal displayed bats and bal s signed with different signatures while some just looked wel used. Jerseys he must have worn during childhood hung on the wal s proudly. I could easily picture the little boy I’d seen in the pictures yesterday wearing these and playing city bal just like an ordinary kid. I went for a closer inspection and found pictures under each one of the teams he’d played on. In the earliest ones, I struggled to figure out which little boy was the now famous rock star. After he appeared to be ten or eleven, I identified him easily. The jerseys and pictures were in year order from about kindergarten until age thirteen, and then they stopped. It would have been about a year or so before I remembered hearing his name the first time on the radio. He seemed to lead a normal life up until the time a record label discovered him.

The wall space above his bed set the room apart from an ordinary teenage boy’s room. Guitars of every shape, size, and color hung on the wal s.

Many were autographed; some sparkled with newness. One appeared to have real gold on it, which wouldn’t be surprising at al if it did. I got on my toes and examined it more closely. It said Fender on it. I continued examining the signatures on the more expensive guitars. I ran my finger over the name Jon Bon Jovi and smiled. Apparently, even rock stars have idols. In the center of them al hung a smal , worn guitar. The fact it hung in the center of this col ection made it obvious this must have been the first and most loved.

I peeked back at the door to make sure no one stood outside, and then went to stand under the smal guitar I imagined had started it al . I wasn’t a crazy fan but seeing something responsible for spurring a dream seemed almost holy in a way.

My cleaning cart sat untouched in the doorway, and I knew I needed to get busy. I didn’t want to learn new, personal things about him. I wanted him to stay shal ow and untouchable in my eyes. Knowing he once was a cute, little boy with dark brown curls and a smile that would one day cause a frenzy made him seem more real and not so godlike. I needed to keep my interest in him to a minimum. I quickly went about the room dusting and sweeping, and then I mopped the expensive hardwoods. I decided I’d better get through with this room quickly before I came across anything else that’d have me picturing him as the little boy in the photos. I focused my thoughts on my future and blocked out al thoughts of Jax Stone. "Sadie, are you finished yet? The family has arrived, and we need to exit to the servant’s quarters," Fran said from the doorway. I placed my cleaning supplies back on the cart and headed toward the door where a very nervous Fran stood.

"Sure, just finished up." Fran nodded and headed toward the back elevator in which house staff traveled from floor to floor without being seen by the family. Fran hurried inside as it opened, and I started to fol ow when a bottle of glass cleaner fel off the cart. I reached for a smal rag and picked the bottle up from the floor. I wiped up the spil the best I could.

"Hurry, please," Fran cal ed in an anxious tone from inside the elevator. The family must be headed upstairs. I stood up, and a tingling sensation raced through the hairs on my neck. Startled, I turned and saw him standing there watching me. It wasn’t the saw him standing there watching me. It wasn’t the cute little curly-headed boy but instead the famous rock star. I froze unsure of what to do since my presence being acknowledged this soon wasn’t something Ms. Mary wanted. A smile broke across his ridiculously sexy face, heat burned through my cheeks, and I glanced away and pushed the cart into the elevator.

He didn’t appear to be angry that a teenage girl worked in his home. His smile seemed more amused. Fran frowned when I glanced at her, but she said nothing. I put my cart away and went to report to the kitchen since I no longer worked upstairs. Ms. Mary stood with her hands on her hips, waiting on our arrival. A silent conversation seemed to take place between Fran and Ms. Mary. After Ms. Mary nodded, she reached for something on the table and handed me folded black clothing.

"Everyone wears uniforms while the family is in residence. Also, you won’t be cleaning the house anymore, but you wil help me in the kitchen and help Mr. Greg in the gardens. However, tonight I need you to serve supper. Mrs. Stone has requested al servers seen by family and guests are attractive in appearance. Wil iam, the young man I hired to assist Marcus in serving the family, cal ed in sick about ten minutes ago, and you are al I got. You’ve proved to be a hard worker, and you seem to be serious about this job. Your age concerns me since the master of the house is around your age and is an idol in most girls’ eyes. My gut tel s me that means little to you. I hope you continue to show such maturity." I didn’t real y know what to say after that mouthful from her, so I only nodded. "Good. Now, you’re to wear this every day. I’l have two more made in your size, and they are to be left here each night to be washed and pressed. Make sure you continue to enter at the same location and immediately change in the laundry room. Now, I need you to help me begin preparing for the evenin’ meal before you put these on. You gotta be tidy and clean when you serve."