2. Evie

two

It was the next morning, and I felt a weird surge of energy. Which was weird, considering how I barely got any sleep.

The whole encounter with Ethan Thorne in my dad’s living room the previous day kept playing in my head.

I was never one to shy away from altercations, but I had no idea how I had managed to gather so much confidence to face him as I did. I was glad I did though.

This was a way to finally kickstart achieving my dream of teaching at Everest Academy.

But more importantly, I had to figure out a way to help Sophie.

Dad had told me about Sophie’s condition after Mr. Thorne left. Apparently, she suffered from selective mutism, and she sometimes exhibited repetitive patterns.

I knew selective mutism was an anxiety disorder where a person couldn’t speak in certain situations because of overwhelming fear or anxiety. But in Sophie’s case, it was a trauma response… a coping mechanism for whatever trauma she might have experienced.

Dad did say she’d witnessed something… an accident maybe, but he didn’t say what. When I asked, he’d told me to ask Mr. Thorne.

I’d also asked why he didn’t inform me about Sophie earlier. He said he planned on telling me when the time was right. Well before that time came, his friend visited.

Typical Dad. Sometimes he liked to keep things to himself. He almost did when Mom died— he didn’t want to hurt me with the news yet. But his face gave it away.

When I heard this, it was difficult for me to process. Dad had it a lot worse though. Still, he did his best to be there for me. He was always there.

Sophie didn’t deserve to go through that, and I wasn’t about to fumble the chance to help her.

I had spent all night packing and getting ready for my return to New York. It had been three years since we left, and I was lowkey excited to be going back.

The fact that this experience could bring me closer to achieving my dream was another positive to look forward to. The fact that it was also my mother’s dream made me even happier.

This would help me tick some requirements off the list and bring me a step closer to Everest Academy. Overall, a lot was riding on this.

A wave of guilt washed over me as I stood in front of Dad. He still had no idea that I made out with his best friend. He probably wouldn’t have suggested I leave with him if he knew.

Watching him be so optimistic about this opportunity almost made me want to tell him and apologize. But that was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

It was just a one-time mistake. Nothing more. It would never happen again.

“I’ll miss you, Dad.” My voice was heavy as my five-foot-five frame melted in his embrace. I really would miss him. Bald head, average height and with a great sense of humor, my dad was my best friend.

“I’ll miss you too, Princess. But you need this. And I know you’ll do great.” He smoothened the top of my hair.

I couldn’t help the tears that rolled down my cheeks. “Thanks, Dad.” His support had brought me this far. “Take care of yourself.”

As if on cue Mr. Thorne’s ride arrived as planned. I knew because of the horn.

My heart felt heavy. I waved at Dad as I stepped out of the house.

When I saw the car, my eyes widened. Momentarily, all other thoughts disappeared.

I’d almost forgotten how loaded this man was.

The driver pulled up to the front of my dad’s humble abode in a thirty-foot-long limo. The car was white. It screamed luxury.

I was still gawking when the driver alighted and greeted Dad and me. Then proceeded to drop my luggage in the trunk. When he was done, I knew it was time to leave.

Giving Dad one last hug, I climbed inside the backseat of the car. I let my body melt in the plush leather of the seat as my heart became heavy.

This was it. The journey to make both my parents proud.

I had never experienced so much comfort on the road as I closed my eyes.

We got to the airport, and, in my head, I was ready for the hassle of onboarding.

I knew he would definitely not settle for anything less than a first-class seat for himself but for me, there was no telling what he would do.

Turned out that I was worried for nothing. There were no business or economy class seats.

In fact, there were no first-class seats either. The driver went past the terminals through what seemed to be different from the normal route? a VIP terminal. But not before speaking to a charter service personnel clad in a suit.

We continued onto the tarmac until we reached Mr. Thorne’s private jet. He really didn’t know how to keep a low profile.

I walked into the plane with the last of my luggage, and, my God, the words ”luxury” and ”extravagance” couldn’t fully describe it.

Plush cream carpets sank beneath my feet, and the seats looked like they were sculpted from clouds. Polished wood gleamed, accented with gleaming gold fixtures.

And the space! I mean, where was the rest of the plane? There were no cramped rows, no overhead bins, just this enormous open space.

A plush leather couch beckoned, big enough to sleep there. There was even a small table with– was that a vase of fresh flowers? In here, it was less a plane and more a flying mansion.

An air hostess… or whatever you call attendants on a private jet, came up to me to get my bags. And I was left to admire the spectacle stress-free.

I walked towards the back of the plane and there he was, seated comfortably at one of the round tables. A cup of coffee and newspaper in hand.

“Good morning, Mr. Thorne.” I greeted, ignoring how the sleeves of his grey shirt were rolled up to the elbow.

“Morning,” he replied without lifting his eyes from his newspaper.

Again, I ignored how deep his voice sounded and focused on his rude attitude.

I didn”t know what I expected but maybe a bit of professionalism. His side profile looked even more attractive from this angle. Sharp jaws were tantalizing enough t—

No, Evie. This is your new client.

If I wanted to build the right professional relationship, then it would start here.

I cleared my throat before speaking. “Thank you for considering me for the job.” My gratitude was met with silence.

“You know, I never dreamed of this day where I would be here… on a private jet. On my way to achieving my dreams. My mother used to say—”

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing, Miss Norman?” He finally lifted his gaze.

“I”m just trying to say—”

“I don”t care about what you”ve dreamt or what you want to say.”

His reaction caught me off guard and I was shocked, to say the least. Maybe I wasn”t entirely caught off guard but it was just a harmless vote of tha—

“I would suggest that you remember why you’re here and know your place. Is that clear?”

I pressed my lips into a thin line. I was trying to be the mature one here if he didn”t have the balls to.

“Is. That. Clear?” He asked again. Slowly.

“...Yes.” I balled my fist. He kept looking at me, his brows lifted like he was expecting something else.

“Yes… Sir.” I adjusted and he went back to reading his newspaper.

My blood was boiling.

I made sure to go as far away from him as I could. I settled into the leather chair with the vase. Was he always like this?

I couldn’t wrap my head around the sudden enmity but the psychologist in me would not let it go. My best guess was that his being cold and dismissive was his way of asserting dominance and control.

Or it was just a way of showing how horribly he regretted that night.

Whatever it was, he was still an asshole.

I decided I wasn’t going to make myself available for him to push his ego on. I plugged in my headphones and the rest of the trip was filled with texts and Instagram reels.

We got to New York and of course, he had another expensive car waiting for him. This time it was a Mercedes Maybach.

The drive home was silent and unlike on the jet, I wasn’t eager to say a word.

He was a billionaire CEO and I honestly thought that there was nothing he could show off anymore that would shock me… until we arrived at Midtown East, Manhattan.

From the towering skyscrapers of glass and steel that lined the street, I should have known his house would be nothing less. But this…

The automated gates swung open with a soft whoosh, revealing a winding drive lined with towering Italian cypress trees.

As we crested a hill, the mansion exploded into view – an intimidating palace of glass and shining marble. Water flowed down a tiered fountain, sunlight bouncing off a pool large enough to sail a boat in.

Holy fuck.

I blinked, suddenly feeling...small.

My gawking was interrupted when a maid appeared from the mansion. Fuck. The mansion was huge. I mean I know mansions should be huge, but…this was enormous.

And different from the mansion I knew years ago. It had undergone some change and was much more beautiful.

The maid, on the other hand, was petite, with pale skin and brown eyes that matched short brown hair. I watched her greet Mr. Thorne with a bow before she turned to me.

“Welcome, ma’am. I’m Virginia, the housemaid and I”ll help you with your things now.”

Oh... I was suddenly grateful that my luggage wasn”t too heavy. It was just three bags.

“Thank you, Virginia. My name is Evie.”

She smiled before helping with two of the luggage pieces. I carried the last one.

I briefly wondered why she didn”t help with Mr. Thorne’s single briefcase but maybe that was the norm.

My jaw dropped again once we got in.

Polished concrete floors gleamed beneath my feet. They reflected the sleek lines of the dark brown furniture. Expensive, dark brown furniture.

I trailed my eyes from the plush leather chairs to the vast space that seemed to stretch to eternity.

The rest of the space was dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a beautiful view of… gardens?

The sunlight that shone from the window cast a soft glow on the curated art collection that adorned the white walls.

This was simply breathtaking.

The warm brown of the furniture blended perfectly with the white of the walls, and the golden chandelier in the center was the icing on the cake.

Before me was a staircase that parted into two opposite sides. Wow. This was—

“Excuse me.”

I was brought out of my reverie by an Italian voice. I looked to see a tall, dark-haired man with a handlebar mustache. A white apron hung around a thin neck that held a frowning face. He was definitely one of those chefs that didn”t joke about tastes.

“Hi, I’m—”

“Please don’t block the door,” he interrupted.

I blinked in shock.

“Oh?”

Dark eyes stared expectantly at my narrowed ones.

But before I could properly process his statement, I heard Mr. Thorne. That was my cue to move.

I immediately walked until I found him at the entrance of a room.

The door was slightly opened so I could tell it was a playroom. There were toys as far as my eyes could see.

“Hey princess, did you miss me?” His voice was soft as he lowered himself.

That was when I noticed her— Sophie.

Her dark hair was a shade lighter than her Father’s, but her blue eyes were just the same.

Apart from her height, she looked just the same— her chubby cheeks and rosy lips were just how they were the last time I saw her.

My stomach felt fuzzy as I watched Mr. Thorne tuck a piece of hair from her face. The little girl just stood before him, holding his gaze.

Was she also… mute with her father?

Mr. Thorne slowly pulled her in for a hug. I didn”t miss how she tucked her face in the crook of his neck. And how her little palms clasped the collar of his shirt.

It felt like hours watching the two interact, and with each second, my heart continued to melt. Until he slowly pulled away.

“I have to go to work now,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before he looked back at me.

“That is Evie, your new nanny.”

Instinctively, I walked up to them with my best smile.

“Hi, Sophie.” I greeted softly.

I was met with a blank stare. Whew. My best guess was that he”d informed her of the nanny change.

“I”ll be back.” He stroked her cheek, then raised himself to his full height.

“I”ll be back. Take care of my daughter.” His eyes were blank and his voice hard.

With that he was gone. I was about to speak to Sophie again when a woman appeared from inside the room.

She looked to be in her mid-thirties. Red hair, green eyes, a little chubby, and a face that made you feel at home.

“Hi Evie, I”m Alicia, Sophie’s nanny.” Her voice sounded like honey and her smile made her even more beautiful. “I”ll take care of Sophie while you rest for today. By tomorrow, you”ll take over your duties with her.”

That was thoughtful. “Thank you, Miss Alicia.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh, please. It”s Alicia. And thank you for being here.”

I smiled as I watched her urge Sophie out of the room and up the stairs.

Two friendly employees, one rude prick, and a narcissistic boss. I could work with that.

For Sophie, I could do this.