So this was Francine Cadwell.

Tanned skin, long legs just like her daughter, honey-blonde hair and a warm smile on her face. No shoulder pads in sight.

I kept the smile firmly plastered on my face when she beckoned our group over. The head of HR, Nadia, smiled brightly and led us to them with a grin so wide it took over her whole heart-shaped face. We all tottered behind, and I saw at least a few nervous smiles between us as people obviously recognized either Peyton or Francine. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I couldn't help sneaking another glance at Peyton.

She'd put her hair up in a chic updo, with a few wispy strands of strawberry blonde hair framing her pretty face, and she looked good enough to eat. The moment she saw me, I knew she felt the spark glowing inside me, because she averted her gaze shyly and pretended not to see me.

Finally, our little group reached them, and Nadia beamed with pride as Francine and Peyton looked us over.

"The new group of hopefuls starting their careers at Mirabella," Nadia said, gesturing to us. Then she looked directly at us. "Everyone, this is Ms. Francine Cadwell and her daughter Peyton."

An awkward hello followed, and Francine laughed, shaking her head.

"No need to be nervous," she said. "I know what it's like to be in your shoes. My father made me work as a maid in the Mirabella for two years when I was in my twenties, and I always say they were the most challenging two years of my life."

She must have noticed our expressions falling, as she quickly corrected herself.

"Of course, it was challenging in all the best ways," she added. "I learned more about the business, and about myself, than I had before in an entire lifetime. Welcome to the Mirabella. I hope you enjoy working with us."

Even the simple way she described the act as working with them, not for them, endeared her in my eyes. She seemed like a sweet woman, and I had to make myself look away so I wouldn't fall for her charm. My parents needed me focused on the task at hand, and Francine Cadwell was, as far as they saw, their number one enemy.

Francine and her husband Vincent owned the most luxurious hotel in the whole town, and my parents were dead set on competing for the spot. Whereas the Mirabella had been a family owned business for decades, my parents had built their own empire from scratch. They started a hotel, a name, out of nothing, and since I was born, they'd managed to put it on the map and get quite a high-profile list of frequent guests, courtesy of my mother's past in modeling.

Of course, the Pierce Resort couldn't compare to the Mirabella, no matter how much money my parents poured into interior design, landscaping, and our menu, put together by a Michelin Star chef. The Mirabella had a history of its own, decades upon decades of it. Competing with it was like a young Hollywood starlet trying to best a siren from the twenties—it couldn't be done.

Of course, there was no way I could explain all that to my parents. They believed they could take over, take the title from the Mirabella as the place to be, and make the Pierce Resort the next big thing. And hell, maybe I was wrong. Maybe they could.

So I fully supported them in their endeavors, even when they pushed it too far like they’d done now by making me get a bellboy job at the Mirabella to spy for them. They wanted me to find out everything I could and hopefully find something they could use against the Cadwells to take business away from them.

At first I liked the idea of spying at the Mirabella. It seemed fun and dangerous. A nice distraction from the usual shit. But now it made me slightly uncomfortable as the hours passed and I got to know the people I was working with. 

Then again, I wanted to keep supporting my parents. They’d worked so hard to get where they were, which I’d greatly benefited from, so it was important to me that I help them in return for everything they’d provided me with, even if it made me feel a little shitty for going behind people’s backs.

"You know, you look very familiar."

Francine's words snapped me out of my daydream, and I offered her a big smile. "Excuse me?" I said, trying to hide my nervousness at the thought of being caught out so soon. 

"You just…." She looked me up and down before glancing at her daughter. Peyton was looking away, her eyes on her handbag. "I feel like I've seen you before. Have you been working with us for a while?"

"Cade just started today," Nadia jumped in. "Just like everyone else here. We also have Andreas, another bellboy, Bianca—she'll be a maid, and DeeDee as well..."

She nudged each one of them forward gently, and they all waved awkwardly at Peyton and her mother. Peyton finally looked up and met my gaze for a second.

Once our eyes locked, it seemed impossible to look away. There was a quiet intensity about her, a fire that burned brighter than the shade of her beautiful hair. She definitely felt it, too. I could tell from the way her fingers knotted nervously, from the way she tried to avert her gaze but failed to do so.

"DeeDee, are you all right?" Nadia asked in a nervous tone, and we finally snapped out of it.

My eyes left Peyton's and I looked to my right, where DeeDee was still standing a little up front, her whole body trembling. 

"I... I'm not sure," she said shakily, raising a hand to her chest. She looked terrified, her eyes widening as we all stared at her. She was the girl with the hair like Peyton's, who'd approached me a little earlier in the lobby. The confidence she displayed mere minutes ago was nowhere to be found now. She looked like she'd seen a ghost.

Her legs gave out and everyone gasped as she collapsed. I was next to her, thankfully, and she went flying into my arms. If I'd moved a fraction of a second too late, she would've crashed right on the floor when she passed out.

"Somebody call an ambulance!" Nadia shrieked. Peyton's mom calmly motioned for her daughter to call for help, then got up and approached me. She placed a cool hand on my wrist holding the girl, and another on her throat. She felt for a pulse and nodded at me once she found it.

The next few minutes flew by. I barely registered Peyton speaking to the emergency operator. Someone brought over a bottle of cold water, and we wet a dishcloth someone had rushed over from the main nearest restaurant kitchen before placing it on DeeDee's forehead. 

"I think she had a panic attack and fainted," Francine said, her brows knitted in worry. "She should be fine in a few minutes, but she should definitely see a doctor anyway."

Her maternal instinct was clear in the way she stroked DeeDee's forehead with the cloth. Nadia began to lead the group away from the scene, and gave me an apologetic look. "Please make sure she's all right?" she asked me, and I nodded.

"Of course," I said. "I'll rejoin you with DeeDee once she feels better."

Nadia left just as DeeDee's eyelids slowly fluttered open. She coughed lightly, and I helped her sit down in a nearby lobby seat. Peyton and her mother fussed around DeeDee, making sure she got something to drink and asking her if she needed anything while I stood a little way off, feeling awkward as hell. Was I supposed to stick around or leave? I had no idea.

A little while after, two paramedics rushed inside and even more fuss was made around DeeDee, making me feel more out of place than ever. I was just about to sneak off as they loaded her onto a gurney when DeeDee gave me a needy, desperate look.

"You're coming, right?" she asked in a voice so pitiful that I couldn't help but nod.

I followed them out of the hotel lobby, and the paramedics grudgingly allowed me to ride in the emergency van with them when DeeDee started to make a scene about it. They loaded us both up into the van, and Francine and Peyton followed us in a black car as we made our way to the hospital.

DeeDee held my hand tightly the whole ride there, and I couldn't for the life of me understand why. But I also wasn't about to argue with a sick girl, so I just let it happen and held her hand until we finally arrived in the ER. I promised I'd be in the waiting room once she was done, and she finally let the paramedics wheel her away to see a doctor. I sat down on a white plastic chair with an exasperated sigh, already feeling exhausted. I wasn't much for drama, and this was drama with a capital D.

Francine and Peyton came in shortly after, with Peyton scrolling through her phone and Francine shooting her warning glances. Finally, Peyton sighed with exasperation and put her phone away. They saw me and approached slowly, taking seats across from me.

"Do you know anything yet?" Francine asked me in hushed tones. I shook my head.

"Oh. That’s a shame," she said with a sigh, fluffing up her perfectly-done hair. "I guess we'll have to wait around a little while longer."

We sat there in a silence so awkward I wanted to pass out myself so I could be taken away from the uncomfortable scene. After a couple of minutes had passed, I couldn't wait any longer. I got up, feeling the women's eyes following me.

"I'm just going to get a drink from the vending machine," I said. "Would you ladies like anything? Water, coffee?"

"Oh, yes," Francine said, reaching for her purse. "I'll have a latte macchiato please."

She offered me some cash but I shook my head at it.

"I insist," she said with a bright smile, winking at me. 

I took the money because I didn't want to look suspicious. After all, a simple bellboy wasn't supposed to have loads of cash, and any other guy in my position would’ve accepted her offer to help out. I thanked her and smiled before turning to leave, just as Peyton jumped up from her seat.

"I'll help you carry it," she said, rushing after me.

I could feel her presence behind me, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling when I felt her draw closer. She felt so fucking good when she was that close to me, her breath a soft kiss against the nape of my neck. I wanted so much more; I could barely stop myself from pushing her against the wall and kissing her right there in the hallway with her mother a mere few seats away.

I resisted the temptation with everything I had, my hands forming fists at my sides. I walked up to the coffee machine and slowly started feeding it quarters as Peyton awkwardly cleared her throat.

"God, I hope this is over soon," she said. I looked up questioningly, noticing she had blushed a cute shade of pink. "I mean, obviously I hope she's okay. But I suspect my parents might only want us here because it looks good for the media... You know, acting like the Mirabella truly cares about its employees. I saw Mom texting Dad about it on the way here."

"I don't know. Your mom seems like she genuinely cares." I shrugged, pressing the button for the latte macchiato. The machine sprang to life, and I straightened up, crossed my arms in front of my body and grinned at the sexy heiress. "You, on the other hand..."

"Oh, stop. I do care." She rolled her eyes, swatting my hand with hers.

When she touched me, both of us looked down to the spot where her skin had touched mine. We didn't say anything, but I could still feel the palm of her hand in the searing heat that threatened to burn deep into my skin. She was really getting to me, this girl. It wasn't just her presence. She'd invaded every thought until I couldn't bring myself to think about anything other than having her in my arms, and it’d only been a few hours since I first met her.

"Anyway, I'm sure DeeDee is fine," I said, clearing my throat. "She's probably just freaking out about starting a new job at a place like the Mirabella."

"What do you mean?" Peyton asked, her eyebrows puckered in confusion.

"I mean... come on." I smiled wide. "It's a pretty amazing place to work at. Let alone live in, as I'm sure you know."

She looked away guiltily, and I didn't push the subject any further. I figured there was something she didn't want to tell me, but I wasn't going to push her, either.

I passed her the plastic cup of coffee once it was done, and then I asked what she wanted. She hesitated before telling me she wanted a hot chocolate, and I chuckled.

"What?" she said, crossing her arms defensively.

"I don't think I've had a hot chocolate since I was about twelve years old," I told her, pressing the button for her beverage of choice.

"Well, you're missing out," she said pointedly, although I could see a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "It has lots of... nutritional benefits."

"Oh, I'm sure," I teased her, holding the plastic cup in my hands. "Ready to go?"

"I..." She hesitated, glancing between our hands. "I'm not sure."

"What's up?"

"I guess I…." She sighed, and her hand suddenly shook so bad that some of the liquid in the plastic cup sloshed over the rim. "Sorry, I just need a moment."

"No worries," I said, taking the cup out of her hand and motioning for her to sit down on one of the plastic chairs. At least we had some privacy here. "You feeling all right?"

"Just a little overwhelmed, I guess," she admitted. "Today has been a little crazy. I barely slept last night, I have a million work emails and messages to respond to, and my dad was kinda mean to me earlier. Now with this girl passing out, and everything else as well, I just... I guess I need a moment to breathe."

"Always a good idea." I nodded, then offered her a smile. "Look, I know what it's like for someone like you.”

She wrinkled her nose disbelievingly. “Do you really?”

“Yeah. Your parents, society, the media... you have a lot on your plate. People have a ton of expectations for you. I totally understand how it gets to be too much at some point.”

“I guess you do get it,” she said with a sigh.

I nodded. “You just have to get yourself through it. Stay true to who you are, who you want to be. Don't conform, don't dumb yourself down. Work for what you want."

"Yeah, I suppose so," she said before letting out a sigh. “It’s just hard to work for what I want when I don’t even know what I want.”

I frowned. “What do you mean? You have a job, and you enjoy it, right?”

“Yeah, but I keep thinking it’s not really for me in the end. It’s not my true passion, as lame as that sounds. And I don’t enjoy it all the time. In fact, lately I’m liking it less and less.”

I cocked my head to the side. “So it’s like any other job, then.”

She gave me a small smile. “You sound like my friend Serena.”

“Serena sounds pretty wise,” I said with a teasing grin. “Seriously, though, you want to find your passion?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I might be able to offer some assistance.”

She gave me a skeptical look. “How?”

“Easy. You said you don’t enjoy your job all the time, but there are some things about it that you do enjoy, right?”

“Yes.”

“When you have a few minutes alone, make a list of all those things that you enjoy. I bet you’ll find one of those things will really jump out at you. That might be your true passion, and you just haven’t really thought about it before,” I said. “And to add to that—make a list of all the aspects you don’t enjoy as well. Even the tiny, petty things. If you figure out a way to improve those things instead of resenting them… well, you just might be able to come up with something new and exciting.”

She nodded again, slower this time. “That’s a good idea. I used to love making lists. I don’t know why I ever stopped. Getting stuff out onto paper always helps.” She paused, then gave me a curious glance. "How did you get so wise on all this stuff, anyway? You seem to understand so much about what it’s like to be…well, me. But your life must be so different from mine.”

"Oh," I said lamely, my eyes glancing at the steaming drinks in my hand. "You know, I overhear lots of things from rich folks at work.”

Fuck, I'd almost outed myself. As far as Peyton was concerned, I was nothing but a simple bellboy who had no clue about things like the pressures of fame and wealthy, domineering parents.

I looked over at her carefully, convinced I'd blown it, but she just smiled at me. I returned the favor. Looked like my cover was still intact.

"Let's go back to your mom," I said. "We'll hear back from the doctors any second now."

"Okay," Peyton said in a small voice. "By the way… thanks."

"You're welcome," I replied with a grin. "Hey, I never introduced myself properly, did I?"

"No. Very rude of you," she said with a teasing smile.

I balanced both plastic cups in one hand and offered her my right one, grinning at her. "Cade Miller," I said. "At your service."

"Nice to meet you, Cade Miller," she said, blinking too fast. "I guess you already know I'm Peyton Cadwell."

"Yeah. I actually knew who you were before Nadia introduced us," I replied. She tilted her head in a surprised glance. "I mean, how could I not?” I went on. “You're in every tabloid, almost daily. Plus, it seems like you have some fans in the new employees you just hired."

"Oh." She giggled. "You mean that short guy with the glasses? I'm pretty sure I caught him staring at me a few times. He was adorable."

"That’s Andreas," I said. "He's great. If he was straight, he’d probably propose to you. But I have a feeling you guys would get along very well anyway. Maybe I can introduce the two of you sometime.”

"Sure." She smiled, getting up and motioning for us to leave. 

Andreas owed me one.

We walked back to the waiting room area, where I handed Peyton and Francine their drinks. Francine thanked me and told us the doctors still hadn't reported back before giving Peyton a suspicious glance, probably wondering where we'd disappeared to for such a long time. Neither of us mentioned it, and I looked away from the awkward mother-daughter exchange.

Finally, after another ten minutes of uncomfortable silence, a doctor walked into the waiting room with some papers in his hand. "Anyone here for DeeDee Brown?" he asked. All three of us stood up. "Ah, there you are. I assume you're her family?"

We exchanged looks, and finally, Francine nodded. "Um… yes. Can you tell us what's going on?" she asked worriedly.

The doctor put the papers aside and gave us a warm smile. "It's nothing to worry about, really. She’s just feeling overwhelmed. Starting a new job can be very stressful, and she had a panic attack. Her blood pressure is a little too high, but otherwise she seems fine, albeit a little dehydrated. We're going to keep her here for a little while longer just to make sure, but she’s going to be okay."

All three of us thanked the doctor, and Francine let out a relieved sigh before turning to face her daughter.

"I'm so glad she's okay." Peyton breathed a sigh of relief as well. "I was getting worried there. They took so long."

"I know, but it sounds like she'll be fine," Francine said, pulling out her phone. "I'll just call the car around."

Peyton and I exchanged looks, and then her mom turned toward me again. "Oh, Gabe, could you stay and make sure DeeDee gets home okay?" she asked, placing a hand on my forearm.

"Mom," Peyton hissed. "His name is Cade."

"It's all right," I replied with a smile. "Of course I will, Mrs. Cadwell, I'd be happy to. You have nothing to worry about."

"Thank you," Francine replied. Then she and her daughter were gone in a whiff of expensive perfume and the click-clack of their shoes on the floor. I was left standing alone and feeling pretty damn useless in the hospital hallway.

I figured it would be best to find DeeDee and tell her that I’d be taking her home when the doctors were ready to discharge her, so I explored the hallway until I found one of the examination room doors ajar. I peeked inside and saw the back of the doctor who'd spoken to us a moment earlier. He was talking to DeeDee, who was sitting on an examination table, still looking a little pale.

"I've told your family you'll be all right," the doctor said to her. "They’ve been waiting here looking worried for quite a while. You must be quite close?"

"Y-yes," DeeDee replied, and I furrowed my eyebrows. We weren't really her family, were we? Maybe she didn't want to bring that up in front of the doctor, having realized that we lied to him to hear how she was.

"I guess I just..." she went on, looking at the floor. ”I have a weird feeling about all of this. I can’t shake it."

The doctor sat down in front of her, his back still facing me. "What do you mean?"

"I feel like..." DeeDee swallowed thickly before going on. "That hotel. I feel like I've been there before. But it was my first day on the job, and I only just moved to this city a few months ago. How is that possible?"

"Peculiar," the doctor remarked. “But nothing to be concerned about. Déjà-vu happens to everyone.”

Just then, DeeDee raised her head and we made eye contact for a split second. 

Her eyes, which were hurt and confused a second ago, seemed to harden slightly when she noticed me looking at her, and her chest rose and fell in a series of deep, shaky breaths. A nurse closed the door of the examination room the next second, cutting off my view of the doctor and my new coworker.

Half an hour later, I was told by one of the nurses that DeeDee would be staying overnight in the hospital for observation after having another panic attack. She was going to be okay; they just wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was causing her sudden bouts of anxiety.

I sighed. I'd waited here for nothing. But at least DeeDee was going to be okay in the end; I guess that was something. I couldn’t shake what I overheard her saying to the doctor, though. Those words coupled with her reaction to being in the hotel and meeting the Cadwell women earlier gave me a really weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

It was probably nothing, but still, I got such a weird vibe from the whole situation. Maybe I was just going crazy from boredom after sitting in this waiting room for so long. Or maybe it was because DeeDee reminded me so much of Peyton with that shiny mane of strawberry blonde hair.

I abruptly stood up, pushing the thoughts from my mind. It was nothing, and I needed to focus on what was important…

Spying on the Mirabella.