Chapter 2

In the driver's seat, Jacob glanced at the empty road in front of him, before his gaze wandered back to the girl's reflection in his rearview mirror. She had caught him staring, and now she focused her gaze out of the window.

Stephanie was her name.

At the realization of his wandering thoughts, Jacob shook his head and focused on the road once more.

Why was he concerned about her name?

He had noted the way she eagerly counted the petty cash, and he also noticed how a mere hundred dollars made her happy. Jacob could only imagine that she was desperate for money. Any girl in the waitress business was. Sighing, Jacob realized that he was already thinking too much about this stranger; especially when he had more pressing matters to think about.

His mother passed. She had asked for him on her deathbed, and he hadn't been there. Nor was he closing a deal at the time. No. Instead he had cowardly sat in the hospital parking lot, waiting for the alert from his mother's private physician. As an only child, he refused to witness his mother's passing.

Maritza Barlowe Cruz, the first woman he ever loved.

"Arrived." The navigation system announced, as Jacob slowed to a stop in front of Stephie's residence.

It was a street line with 1-story homes. Each establishment appeared small and quaint, sporting pastel hues of pinks, yellows and blues. Each home started with wooden steps leading to a humble front porch. From there, each house held an iron-bar gate with screening, which then led to a wooden brown entrance. From one house to the next, each porch held items unique to it's tenant, from rocking chairs to dog crates, exercising machines and a bike.

Stephie's porch in particular was lined with flowerpots and hanging plants. The house itself was painted a faded lime yellow. On the rainy night, the street was dimly lit from street lamps and porch lights; however unlike the other homes where the porches held a light, Stephie's porch was dark. At the sight of her dark lightbulb, Stephie set her lips in a straight line. A dog barked down the street, and Stephie prepared to open her car door.

"You live... here?" Carter voiced, not bothering to hide his disdained shock.

Stephie breathed, her guard instantly shooting up again.

"Actually yes, I do." Stephie answered without hesitation, "Is there a problem?" Stephie then wondered.

Carter turned slightly in his chair to look at Stephie.

"How old are you, Miss Stephanie?" Carter interviewed instead of answering her question.

"I don't see how that's any of your business." Stephie refused to respond.

Carter shrugged, "well I did you the honest courtesy of asking for your age, but I can always find out without you telling me." Carter expressed, unbothered by Stephie's cautious response and guarded attitude.

"That's an invasion of privacy." Stephie argued.

"Your privacy is invaded every time you walk out of the door; at the gas station, when you browse online, shall I go on?" Carter bantered.

"You can go home. Good night." Stephie bid, then she attempted to leave, but the door was locked.

"Hey unlock the door." Stephie demanded while looking at Jacob.

Jacob looked at her in the rearview mirror but didn't say a word.

"Open the door." Stephie was now on edge, as she jiggled the door handle multiple times.

Jacob blinked and noticed the slight panic in the girl's eyes and actions. He also saw how she could potentially ruin his car with one wrong jerk, so with a motion of his hand, followed by a click, the locks were disengaged.

Stephie opened the door hastily and rushed out of the car. Slamming the car door, Stephie hurried to her home.

"I will see you again soon Miss Stephanie." Carter bid before the car drove off.

"Creep." Stephie muttered as she hurried to unlock the door and enter her home, locking the entrance as soon as she was safely stowed away from the outside.

Down the street, Jacob stopped at the red light and noticed a bus stop, which was occupied by a tall figure wearing dark pants and a hoodie. The bus arrived at the stop after crossing the intersection. Jacob watched as three people exit the large vehicle, and he only assumed that this would be the bus that Stephanie took to and from work.

As the passengers dispersed, Jacob noticed the hooded figure didn't board the bus, but instead, the figure paced the area, then looked up and down the street.

"Your light is green." Carter pointed to his son.

Sending one last glance towards the bus stop and the apparently confused hooded figure, Jacob crossed the intersection and saw to bringing his father home.

Back in Stephie's humble abode, she took off her work shoes and left them by the door, then she placed her feet in her home slippers. Though her darkened porch told her all she needed to know about the night she would spend at home, Stephie still tried the light switch in her living room. The electric switch clicked like a toy, only to confirm that her lights had indeed been cut off after she failed to make enough to pay her electric bills this time around.

Sighing in discouragement, Stephie removed her purse and headed straight to her bedroom after turning on her phone's flashlight. Closing the door behind her, Stephie ensured that her blinds were closed, then she headed into her small closet. Closing that door behind her as well, Stephie then began to move the many decoy shoe boxes on her shelf to the side, until finding an old shoe box, particularly marked with a splash of spilled white out.

Grabbing the box, Stephie opened it and grabbed the left tennis shoe. In it was an old sock which held all her cash savings. Adding the tips she received from the night to the sock, Stephie quickly returned the box to it's "hidden in plain sight" position.

When Stephie exited the closet, she took a pause of caution when she noticed a shadow cast on her window. Turning off her phone's flashlight quickly, Stephie crouched to the floor and waited. The shadow lingered a bit, pacing from one window to the next. Stephie barely breathed, her body shaking as she kept her exhales mute, and she played statue until her perked ears registered the sound of departing footsteps.

The rain still softly showered the world beyond Stephie's home, and when Stephie was sure the coast was clear, she changed into her sleeping shorts and tank top, then she climbed into bed.

The next morning, Stephie woke up at half past eleven. The sun was shining bright, and her neighborhood was alive and loud. Rubbing her eyes and yawning loudly, Stephie stretched and rolled onto her stomach. Reaching for the nightstand, Stephie grabbed her phone and checked the time. After seeing the numbers displayed on the screen, Stephie closed her eyes and mumbled a prayer, then she rolled out of bed.

Preparing her all black uniform for the day, Stephie laid out her black cotton shirt and black denim pants on the bed. Then she headed to the bathroom where the sunlight shining through the window and hitting the opposite wall was enough to illuminate the room. Stephie worked on taming her hair first by combing through her coils, then brushing them. Wetting the bristles of her old hairbrush under the cool running water, Stephie then brushed her hair into a slick low puff at the back of her skull.

Washing her hands, Stephie then brushed her teeth. Once she was ready to shower, Stephie headed to her back porch, where two emergency buckets filled with water were placed at the very center of her small backyard. These emergency vessels now held water warmed by the heating sun, to a temperature comfortable enough for Stephie to bathe even with no electricity. Bringing the buckets inside, Stephie quickly showered, hoping to not lose too much heat in the early fall season.

Once freshened up, Stephie refilled the buckets with water and returned them to their respective place. Hoping to earn enough in her next paycheck to have the lights back on in her house, Stephie checked the time once again; 12:15 on the dot.

Grabbing her phone, purse and keys, Stephie headed for the front door. She exchanged her slippers for her work footwear comprised of worn-out tennis shoes and faded shoelaces. Then saying a quick prayer at the door, Stephie made her exit.

Upon opening the front door, a piece of paper fell at Stephie's feet. Blinking at the plant-based material, she picked it up while quickly looking all around. Stephie noticed nothing out of place. Two houses down from her, the mailman was making his routine delivery, and looking to the right towards the traffic light, the 12:30 bus was pulling away from the stop. Blinking multiple times, Stephie quickly balled the paper in her fist then she hurried down her porch, and while passing a neighbor's garbage can, she dumped the paper altogether.

Keeping her composure and slipping a cap over her skull, Stephie made it to the bus stop just in time before the next bus arrived. When Stephie made it to work, the brunch crowd was dwindling, and the line of afternoon coffee addicts began to grow. Stephie walked behind the counter and clocked in instantly. She removed her purse, phone and keys, stowing them away properly, then she grabbed her apron and placed it on.

"Stephie, just the person I was looking for." Came her manager's voice while he worked the cappuccino machine.

"What is it Mack?" Stephie wondered with no true air of curiosity, as she acknowledged the blond man with the round face and glasses.

"Do you know Carter Barlowe?" Mack posed while sprinkling mocha powder on the coffee drink.

Stephie gave a dry chuckle, "who doesn't know Carter Barlowe?"

Mack handed a cheery blonde her afternoon shot of caffeine.

"Fair question, except he apparently knows you by name." Mack pointed.

"Does he now?" Stephie shook her head while washing her hands.

"Yes, from what I heard, you made quite the impression last night. So much so that he requested that you personally deliver the same drink he ordered last night to his office today." Mack referred the message he received just a few minutes before Stephie's arrival.

Stephie paused and stopped herself from muttering you've got to be kidding me. Instead, she saw to washing her hands.

"We don't do delivery Mack.” Stephie reminded her manager.

"For a tip of $100, I'm sure we do." Mack insisted.

"$100 tip for just one drink?" This made Stephie pause her handwashing.

"Yep," Mack nodded enthusiastically, "so how 'bout it?" Mack coaxed.

"I'll still be on the clock?" Stephie posed while drying her hands and turning off the faucet with her elbow.

"Yes. The building is two blocks away. You got this." Mack cheered.

Stephie shook her head again.

"Hey, maybe you can throw a muffin in there." Mack urged, his attitude ecstatic.

"He won't like the muffin." Stephie explained, then she wondered, "why are you so excited about this?"

"Well if carter Barlowe decides to endorse us, that means a raise for everyone, a promotion for me and a boom for business." Mack cheered optimistically, so much that Stephie could've sworn she saw the dollar signs in his pupils.

"Mmh." Was all Stephie hummed in reply, then she saw to preparing Carter's order, same as from the previous night.

Heated milk, a dash of cinnamon, and a sprinkle of sugar.

Placing the cup in a holder, Stephie grabbed her purse, phone and keys. Placing her personal baseball cap which sported the Cafe's logo on her scalp to shield from the afternoon sun, Stephie left the café and headed towards the center of the city, where the Barlowe Industries Building nearly tickled the skyline in comparison to the other smaller establishments in town.

Upon entering the large lobby furnished with various sitting areas, office potted greenery and the cool crisp air of the air conditioning, undertoned by the scent of disinfecting chemicals, Stephie spotted the front desk behind which two security guards sat. Taking her hat off and brushing her palm over her hair, Stephie walked through the lobby, undetected by the various bodies dressed in professional clothing, each on their own set trajectories and destination.

At the desk, Stephie was greeted by a dark-skinned man.

"How can I help you?" The guard asked.

"Delivery for Carter Barlowe." Stephie replied.

As soon as she mentioned Carter’s name, the guard did a once-over from Stephie's head to her waistline which had been cut by the desk. In the meantime, the other security guard, a Caucasian woman, sent Stephie a side glance. Stephie stared back, unbothered.

"Hold on a minute." The security guard prompted as he picked up a landline, just as the elevator a few steps to Stephie's right dinged and out walked a man with brown hair.

He approached the desk, dressed in a dark brown suit.

"Excuse me, miss Stephanie?" The man addressed Stephie.

"Yeah that's me." Stephie answered.

"Mr. Barlowe is expecting you." The man explained, causing the security guards to share a glance amongst themselves.

Then, the man looked at the security guard who held the phone and signaled, "she's fine."

The guard nodded but said nothing.

"Come with me." The man invited, then he ushered Stephie to the elevator.

"Look my shift just started at the café, so I can't stay long." Stephie attempted to explain to the strange man.

This man, John, didn't answer.

Pressing her lips together, Stephie said nothing more.

The elevator rose to the top floor and when the doors opened, Stephie was met with a handful of large cubicles, ringing phones, shuffling papers and light individual chatter.

"Follow me." John instructed, and Stephie did so without a sound.

Walking around the cubicles, Stephie realized that she was out of place with her black jeggings and simple cotton T-shirt. The ladies on the floor all sported impressive pantsuits and pencil skirts, their hairdos slick and neat. The men wore dress shirts and ties. Even their stride and ambulating cadence appeared to be more proper than Stephie's steps. Clearing her throat and gulping softly, Stephie followed John towards a glass wall which cordoned off a more private area of the office.

Before entering through the double glass doors, Stephie noticed a receptionist desk to the side of the entrance. John opened the door, and again allowed Stephie to go in before him, like a proper gentleman. His actions strangely reminded her of Carter's behavior the night before. Once inside the private area, there was a large meeting space, and finally one more glass office, in which Carter sat.

John led her to Carter’s office, then he excused himself with a simple, "I will be waiting outside."

"Thank you, John." Carter dismissed, then he looked at Stephie.

"Good afternoon, Miss Stephanie." Carter greeted with a smile.

"Just Stephie is fine." Stephanie replied quickly, then she placed the milk on Carter's desk, "that'll be $103.75." Stephie then added.

Carter smiled and chuckled softly.

"Won't you have a seat?" He invited while pointing to a chair which faced his desk.

Stephie looked at the chair but didn't move.

"I can't stay. I have to get back to my job." Stephie explained.

"I understand, however this won't take long. Please." Carter invited once again.

Sighing and remembering just how persistent Carter could be, Stephie blinked and accepted the chair.

Carter smiled in a pleased manner, then he too, took a seat behind his desk. Grabbing the cup, Carter sniffed the familiar aroma and smiled in a comforted manner. Then he placed the cup down and intertwined his fingers as he stared at Stephie.

"Stephanie Miller. You are twenty-five years old. Orphaned with no known relatives around." Carter began.

"You have got to be kidding." Stephie scoffed, "you dug around about me?"

Carter was unbothered.

"I must admit, your hospitality the night before truly struck me. Nowadays not many people have the time to be kind. And I don't blame you for being cautious of me, but you've impressed me Miss Stephanie, so much so, I'd like to take you on as my ward." Carter delivered without wasting time.

"It's Stephie, and no thanks." Stephanie declined without wasting a moment.

Still caught up on Carter's detective work being completed without her consent, Stephie had no intention on accepting any kindness from the meddling old man.

"Do you know what a ward is?" Carter wondered.

"Do you know what Privacy is?" Stephie fired back, her cheeks hot, her arms folded across her chest, her forehead wrinkled.

"I truly didn't mean any offense." Carter expressed himself calmly, having dealt with many fuming personalities in the past, and finding Stephie's reaction to be no less than how he expected her to react.

The evening prior had given him a good enough impression of Stephie. And while Carter couldn't boast to know Stephie through and through, he already noted some of her characteristics, which is why he approached the situation calmly, even as the girl fumed across from him.

"Yeah, well I'm offended. I don't need your help." Stephie determined as she stood and prepared to leave.

"Stephanie wait." Carter called after her, just as she began walking out of the office.

With the haste of her actions, Stephanie couldn't avoid running into Jacob who was on his way to his father's office. Bumping into his chest, Jacob quickly steadied Stephie by hooking his arm around her waist and holding her arm to keep her from falling.

"Watch where you're going." Jacob scolded, before pushing Stephie out of his hold as soon as she had been steadied.

"It was an accident." Stephie admitted.

"Stephanie." Carter called her again, as he appeared in his office's doorway.

"Wait, you're the girl from the café." Jacob realized, "what are you doing here?" Jacob then scrutinized.

"Leaving. Obviously." Stephie spat, as she brushed past Jacob.

But her slight shove rubbed Jacob the wrong way, and on instinct, his hand fell on her wrist, causing her to halt. Stephie turned in a haste and attempted to pry her hand out of Jacob's hold.

"Let go." Stephie ordered.

Jacob ignored her and turned to his father.

"What is she doing here?" Jacob wondered, then he faced Stephie, "You asking for money?" He accused the unsuspecting girl.

"What did you say?" Stephie replied, her tone appalled.

"Jacob." Carter called in warning, while watching Stephie twist and turn her wrist in Jacob's hold.

"I said let me go." Stephie ordered.

"And I asked what you are doing here." Jacob returned with a menacing tone.

"You know I can sue you for this. You're touching me without consent." Stephie threatened.

"Yeah I'm sure a money-hungry mouse like you would love the opportunity to make quick and easy cash. But we both know that you can't afford a lawyer." Jacob humiliated Stephie with his words, and on instinct, tears welled in Stephie's eyes.

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Hey guys!

Here is chapter 2. I hope you enjoyed.

Let me know by COMMENTING, AND SHARING!

Lots of ❤❤❤

-Tania