Chapter 2

Clara's POV

Taking up the broom, she began cleaning the living room. There wasn't much to do at this place; every day, even when no one was staying in the rooms, they were all cleaned.

We had to tidy the bedroom next.

Ivy reached over to the nightstand and grabbed up another magazine—this one was another of Derek's. "How is it possible that a guy looks like that, yet no one has ever tried to have his baby," she said.

I said, laughing, "Are you still on that?"

"I mean, look at him. He is practically a Greek god. If I were those other girls, I'd get pregnant and trap him immediately." She laughed.

"We would have to become millionaires before he gives us a bit of his attention. He is hardly ever seen with a girl in the tabloids." I said.

Unexpectedly, I noticed his images in one of my fifteen-year-old sister Katy's adolescent magazines, which she received every month and which were devoted to boy bands. He was the centre of attention for the tabloids. 

"Maddison must have the right idea, everyone knows that's the only reason she is coming here, to try and seduce him." She went on.

I said, pretending to speak French, "Maybe she just wants to experience New Ravens suites." I'm not even sure why I did it.

"Come on, we've all seen women like her. Her parents own a mansion just a few blocks from here. She might have her own money but it's the power she craves. We know that she is only after his money. She is just looking for a place where she can target him." Ivy responded.

"That's even if he shows up here," I said. "You've said it yourself; you've worked here in the last two years, yet you have never seen him step foot here."

Although I've just been employed here for the last three months, I've heard that he seldom really comes up in person because he is constantly on the road. I've never been there, but I do know that he has a private apartment on the top level, which is only sometimes accessible by the maids with the highest clearance to keep the place tidy.

"Anyways, the guy is a jerk. He won't let his employees take any time off. We work throughout Christmas and if I hadn't faked an injury, I would have missed my grandmother's funeral." She said,

"I think that's a little bit of Marcus' doing," I said.

"That's true, Marcus is a total ass. He is just bitter that he is alone, so he projects it on everyone." She said,

Something buzzed on my pocket phone. I was starting to make the practice of checking my surroundings before picking up the phone. Since we were hosting some celebs, they didn't want us using our phones at this place.

I noticed Waylen's name on the caller ID.

Our relationship ended a week ago. He hasn't stopped phoning me since then. Fortunately, I won't be working at the restaurant anymore, because I was sick of him coming by. He knew my mom would beat him up, so he didn't dare come to my house. She is unaware that I even began dating.

I figured he would stop calling after all of this. For the whole duration of our relationship, he lied to me—even on small matters. When I spotted him at a bookshop, I asked him where he was, and he said that he was at home. Eventually, among other things, I became weary of it.

I hung up on him.

He texted, saying, "Please, I need to see you so we can talk." 

Enraged, I turned off my phone and shoved it in my pocket.

Ivy enquired, "What happened to you?"

"It's Waylen," I said.

"You never told me why the two of you broke up," Ivy said.

"Things just weren't working out. He was a liar, and we just didn't have any chemistry and now he won't stop texting me." I said.

"You could have stayed with him; the guy was always around you like a little puppy. You broke his heart." She said,

"It would have been worse if I continued leading him on. He was already planning on children and buying a house." I said.

She raised her eyebrows, "Do you know how many women would kill for a guy like that?"

"Come on, you know what I mean. I just wasn't ready for that kind of commitment; I couldn't picture myself with him in the future." I said.

"I don't blame you; the guy was a bit of a creep anyway," she said.

A gentle tapping on the door was heard. 

To answer the door, I came out of the room.

Standing at the doorway was a middle-aged woman with her hair pulled back neatly and a bundle in her hands. She grinned at me. All of them with their covers on gave the appearance of dresses.

"I'm here to drop off these dresses for Ms Maddison," she said with a grin.

"You can give them to me," I said.

As she handed me the outfits, she grinned.

I closed the door after seeing her go away.

I went back to the bedroom and made the beds with the dresses.

Ivy wondered what it was as she glanced at me. Her eyes shimmered, telling me that trouble was what this would bring.

She started to unzip the zipper before I could object. "It's Christian Dior," Ivy cried, tracing her fingertips over a garment.

I read her thinking and demanded, "Put that down."

I've already witnessed this side of Ivy; the last time she let her curiosity get the better of her, we almost got expelled from the pub.

"Come on, a dress like that? It's just begging to be worn." She said,

My remarks went unnoticed. She was taking off the black sparkling beauty's cover and trying to put it on already. That outfit would make me murder for it.

"This isn't Maid in Manhattan. You will get us caught, we will never be able to work another job in New York or anywhere else." I attempted to argue with her.

She urged, "Come on, you could be on the lookout."