ONE

"Sofia, wake up or you'll be late on your first day!"

I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow.

"Sofia!"

"Don't wanna," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.

"Your father pulled a lot of strings to get you this job. Don't waste it. Get up!"

I let out another groan and squeezed my eyes shut.

"But I don't even want this job…"

Silence. Then, my mom ignored my whining as usual.

"I'm making coffee. When I come back, you better be on your feet."

I heard her footsteps fade away. With a heavy sigh, I dragged myself up, moving like a zombie. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep, and squinted at the sunlight streaming through the window.

You know that feeling when you wake up and just know the day is gonna suck? Yeah… today was one of those days.

"So, what do these Walkers do, exactly?" I asked as I made my way to the kitchen.

"Ugh, child, you never listen. I already told you—they're stockbrokers. But what does it matter? You're just there to clean their house."

"And watch their brat," I muttered under my breath.

"It won't be that bad. You took care of your cousins last summer."

Right... though Mom seemed to have conveniently forgotten how that ended in the ER after Trent fell out of a tree because I was too busy dealing with my ex to notice what the kid was doing.

I decided not to remind her. Instead, I grabbed the coffee she handed me.

"Is Dad driving me?"

"Yeah, he should be…" The doorbell rang. "There he is."

She got up to answer, and my dad walked in with a big smile.

"Morning, pumpkin. Nervous about your first day?"

"Nope," I answered quickly, my voice still groggy.

"You're gonna love it. I know the Walkers—well, Mr. Walker, at least. He's a great guy. You'll be fine."

I shrugged. "If you say so…"

"Alright, go get dressed. We need to leave soon," Mom said before turning to my dad. "Honey, did you put the bags in the car?"

"Bags?" I asked, confused. "Are you guys going on a trip?"

My parents exchanged a look.

"This girl never listens…" Mom sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Your bags, sweetheart. The job is live-in. You'll be staying there Monday through Friday."

"Wait, what?" My eyes widened. "I never agreed to that!"

Mom crossed her arms while Dad gave me an apologetic smile.

"I don't love it either, pumpkin," Dad said, "but think of it as an opportunity. They're paying you well, and you can save up for college. I can't afford Columbia on my salary, and I know how much you want to go."

"But—"

"No buts," Mom cut in. "You're not sitting around all year doing nothing. You are working."

"Fine, fine," I muttered, standing up. "I get it. You just want me out of the house…"

I trudged to my room and threw on the first thing I found—black pants, a white button-up, and matching sneakers. I didn't even bother brushing my hair, just threw it up in a messy bun. My under-eye circles made me look like a panda, but I didn't care enough to fix them.

When I came back downstairs, Mom was waiting at the door.

"Your dad's already in the car," she said, pulling me into a hug. "He'll pick you up on Friday. Try to stay out of trouble, okay?"

I slipped into the passenger seat while Dad started the engine. Mom waved from the doorway as we pulled away.

A few minutes into the drive, Dad cleared his throat. "Just a heads-up, pumpkin. The Walkers live in one of the most prestigious buildings in Manhattan. Lots of important people live there, so just… stay away from the neighbors, alright?"

I frowned. "Important how?"

"Rich. Very rich. And you know how those people are... I don't want you showing up in a few months dating some singer with a drug problem."

I rolled my eyes and slumped back against the seat, watching the city blur past.

"Seriously, Dad?"

"Hey, I'm just being cautious. You won't be home, and I want you to steer clear of drama."

"Got it. Not like I plan on socializing, anyway."

The rest of the drive was quiet, just the hum of the radio filling the space. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to an elegant, old-money-style building. Two uniformed doormen stood at the entrance, eyeing us as we approached with my suitcase.

"Good morning. Who are you here to see?" one of them asked politely.

"Hi. Dan Griffin, and this is my daughter, Sofia. She'll be staying with the Walkers."

The doorman nodded and stepped away to confirm. A moment later, he returned, grabbed my suitcase, and gestured for us to enter. "Mr. Walker is expecting you."

Inside, the building was massive—more like a five-star hotel than an apartment complex. Dad looked around, impressed, as if saying, See? Isn't this amazing?

We headed to the elevator, where a tall guy—at least six foot three—stood waiting. Brown hair, sunglasses, movie star aura.

"How'd the audition go, Mr. Garland?" the doorman asked him.

The man took off his glasses. "Great, Eustace. Thanks. Pretty sure James will give me the role this time."

My jaw nearly hit the floor. Holy. Shit.

Dad leaned closer to me and whispered, "Isn't that—?"

I nodded, still in shock. "Archie Garland," I breathed, maybe a little too loud, because he heard me.

His head tilted slightly in curiosity. "Oh, hey. You must be new to 5A?"

"No, no, just visiting," Dad answered, patting my shoulder. "But my daughter will be working for the Walkers."

Archie grinned. "Guess that makes us neighbors, then. I live next door."

"Great," I squeaked, my voice way too high-pitched.

Thankfully, the elevator doors finally opened. I bolted inside, pressing myself against Dad, my nerves all over the place. I wasn't a fan of Archie Garland, per se, but come on. The guy was a superstar. My best friend had posters of him everywhere. Even Mom liked him. She called him "the pretty boy with claws," which was why Dad recognized him instantly.

His most famous role? Logan, in the Wolverine reboot. And ever since, his career had exploded.

1, 2, 3, 4… Why was this elevator so damn slow?

"Hey," Dad suddenly said, leaning toward Archie. "Think I could get an autograph? My wife's a huge fan."

I felt my face ignite.

"Dad…"

Archie just laughed. "Sure. Got a pen?"

Dad fumbled through his pockets. "Uh… no."

Archie chuckled. "Guess we'll have to do it later. Sofia can grab it from me."

Eustace cleared his throat. "I doubt Mr. Walker would appreciate you knocking on his door."

Archie waved a hand dismissively. "Sam loves me."

The elevator dinged and we stepped out. Archie flashed me a lopsided smile. "Actually, Eustace might be right. Just stop by later."

As soon as his door shut, I turned to Dad with an unimpressed glare.

"I thought you said no mingling with the neighbors?"

Dad scratched his neck. "Yeah, but... c'mon, did you see his last movie? It was really good!"

Since when was my dad a fan of Archie Garland? I didn't have time to dwell on it because, just then, Eustace rang the doorbell. The door swung open almost immediately, and Mr. Walker greeted us with a friendly smile.

"Dan, great to see you," he said, shaking my dad's hand. "Eustace, thanks. I'll take care of the luggage. Please, come in."

Then, he turned to me with an amiable expression. "You must be Sofia, right? I've heard a lot about you."

I nodded and stepped inside with my dad. And, holy crap… the foyer alone was bigger than my entire bedroom.

We moved into the living room and settled onto the couch.

"I'm sure your dad has already told you—it's not a difficult job. You'll handle the cleaning and, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, when my son Jackson doesn't have after-school activities, you'll look after him in the afternoons. The rest of the time, make yourself at home."

"And how much are you paying?" I asked bluntly.

"Three thousand dollars."

I blinked. That was… a lot of money.

"Alright."

Dad stifled a chuckle. "Not gonna ask anything else?"

I shrugged. "Nope. I know everything I need to."

Mr. Walker glanced at my suitcase, then at me. "Alright, then. Let me show you to your room."