CHAINS OF THE HEART

CHAPTER 7 New friends

"What?" Leila shrugged, stirring her latte. "The café’s Wi-Fi password? You were glaring at your phone. I have a friend who works here. Got you hooked up." Ember’s face flushed. "You didn’t have to—" "Too late," Leila sang. Petra snorted. "She does this. Ignores boundaries like it’s her job." Leila stuck out her tongue. Ember opened her mouth, closed it. The gratitude hit her like a punch. "Thank you," she said finally, voice rough. Leila waved her off. "Buy me coffee next time." "There’s a next time?" Petra smirked. "Unfortunately." Leila grabbed Ember’s phone and plugged in her number before handing it back. "Now there is." Ember stared at the new contact—Leila (Cousin to a poker face)—and huffed a laugh.

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Iconic University was the epitome of academic excellence, a citadel of learning that attracted the brightest minds from all over the country and beyond. Its reputation for producing talented and innovative graduates was unparalleled, and it was considered the best institution for arts and culture in the nation. As Ember reminisced about her time at Iconic University, she couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. She had been forced to drop out due to circumstances beyond her control, and now she longed to return and complete her education. But, as she knew all too well, going back to school required money – something Ember desperately lacked. She began to scour the city for part-time job opportunities, checking out common stores, restaurants, and bars that might be willing to hire her. Days turned into weeks, and Ember's search seemed fruitless. She had applied to numerous establishments, but no one seemed willing to give her a chance. Her spirits began to flag, and she wondered if she would ever be able to return to her studies.

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One evening, as she walked down a bustling street, Ember stumbled upon a restaurant called Shadowed Oak. The sign above the door read "Help Wanted," in bold golden characters and Ember's heart skipped a beat. She pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bar was shrouded in a warm, intimate ambiance, the soft glow of dimly lit lamps casting a golden hue over the polished wooden counter and plush stools. The air was filled with the smooth sounds of jazz music, the melodic notes of the saxophone weaving in and out of the gentle hum of conversation from the patrons. Behind the counter, a woman with piercing green eyes and long, curly brown hair looked up from the drink she was expertly mixing, her gaze locking onto Ember with a hint of curiosity.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice husky and confident, a gentle smile playing on her lips. Ember took a deep breath, smoothing out her dress before stepping forward, her eyes scanning the bar's interior before returning to the woman. "Hi, I'm Ember," she said, her voice clear and friendly. "I saw the help wanted sign outside, and I was wondering if you might have any job openings available." The woman's smile broadened as she wiped her hands on a towel, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm Jane," she replied, her voice warm. "Let me check with the manager." She led Ember to a discreetly placed elevator, which whisked them up to the manager's office. The door was slightly ajar, and Jane knocked softly before pushing it open. "Good day, ma'am," Ember greeted, her posture straightening as she entered the office. The manager, a poised woman with a kind face and professional demeanor, smiled and extended a hand. "Good day, Miss. Please, have a seat," she said, her voice gentle but authoritative. Ember took a seat, her hands clasped together in her lap as she explained her situation, highlighting her relevant skills and experience. The manager listened attentively, her eyes never leaving Ember's face. "What makes you think you're fit for the job?" she asked, her expression thoughtful. Ember launched into an objective analysis of herself, detailing her strengths and qualifications. The manager nodded along, making a few notes on a pad of paper. After a few moments of silence, the manager looked up, a small smile on her face. "We'll get back to you, Miss Ember," she said, her voice firm but polite. Ember nodded, rising from her seat as Jane stood waiting by the door. "Thank you for your time," Ember said, her smile genuine. The manager nodded, and Ember made her way out of the office heading towards the elevator leading to the ground floor. She pushed open the door, stepping out into the bright sunlight, and took a deep breath, her fingers crossed in a silent gesture of good luck.

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Ember set her phone down on the kitchen counter with a quiet sigh. The house was too big, too quiet—just like every other day since Alexander had vanished. She ran her fingers along the cold marble surface, remembering how Lemon, the housekeeper, had tried to comfort her that first morning when it became clear he wasn't coming back. Speaking of Lemon—soft footsteps padded down the hallway, followed by the warm scent of lavender detergent. The middle-aged woman appeared in the doorway, her graying hair pulled into a loose bun, a basket of folded linens balanced on her hip. "Oh, you're home," Lemon said, her voice warm like honey. She set the basket down and gave Ember a knowing look. "You’ve been out a lot lately. Everything alright?" Ember forced a small smile. "Just looking for work." Lemon’s expression softened. She reached out and squeezed Ember’s shoulder gently. "That’s good. Keeps the mind busy." There was a pause, then she added carefully, "You know, if you ever want to talk... about him, or... anything..." Ember nodded, throat tight. "I know. Thank you." Lemon gave her shoulder another reassuring pat before picking up the laundry basket again. "I made some lemon bars earlier. They’re in the fridge if you want one." Ember managed a real smile this time. "You’re the best." Lemon chuckled as she walked away. "Tell me something I don’t know." Left alone again, Ember wandered into the living room, where floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the garden. The sky was turning dusky, streaks of pink bleeding into deep blue. She sank onto the plush sofa, pulling one of the decorative throw pillows into her lap. Her fingers traced the intricate embroidery—something Alexander’s decorator had chosen, no doubt. Nothing in this house was really hers. A sudden knock at the front door made her jump. Lemon’s voice carried from the hallway. "I’ll get it!" Ember stood, curiosity tugging at her. Visitors were rare. But by the time she reached the foyer, Lemon was already closing the door, a small package in hand. "Just a delivery," Lemon said, handing it over. Ember turned the plain box over in her hands. No return address. Her name was neatly printed on the label in crisp, unfamiliar handwriting. A shiver ran down her spine. Lemon must have noticed her hesitation. "You want me to open it?" Ember shook her head. "No, it’s fine." But as she stared at the box, one thought echoed in her mind: _Who even knows I live here?_

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The private jet touched down just after midnight, its tires screeching against the rain-slicked runway. Alexander sat motionless in the dim cabin as the engines wound down, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Outside, the storm painted the tarmac in shifting reflections of orange and white from the runway lights. He hadn't told anyone he was coming back. The car waiting on the tarmac had blackout windows. His driver, Pascal, kept his eyes forward as Alexander slid into the backseat. The familiar scent of lemon polish and gun oil clung to the leather interior. "Where to, sir?" Pascal asked. Alexander watched water droplets chase each other down the window. "The penthouse." Not the villa. The city passed in a blur of neon and shadow. His phone buzzed twice in his pocket - likely Luther with the usual updates. He didn't check. The penthouse elevator required his fingerprint. The system beeped recognition, and for a ridiculous moment, he wondered if she'd had his access revoked. But the doors slid open smoothly onto the dark foyer. Then he smelled it. Jasmine. Faint but unmistakable, cutting through the sterile air. His shoulders tensed before he could stop them.