Chapter 2- The House That Watched Her
956 Words
The next day came and when Amber came out of the Cooper mansion she was not a stranger with a phone in her hand but a name out of thousands who came to apply.
Her palms were sweaty.
Her heart was throbbing so hard it hurt her ribs.
She had held on to her bag, strung, and said,
"This is for Mom... please, God."
Some sharp-eyed, sharpening-tongued maid pulled the door open.
"Name?" she asked flatly.
"Amber Smith."
The maid glanced up and down at her, with a smirk, as though she were quite aware that Amber was out of place here.
"You're applicant 531. Lucky not to be killed in this place.
Not welcoming. Not encouraging.
Just a warning.
THE INTERVIEW
Amber went into a room where there were stainless-steel countertops, ovens more expensive than her mother had paid for her hospital bill, and maids talking and squaring each other like cats.
A voice snapped,
"Applicants! You are given ten minutes to create one dish of what you like.
Amber froze.
Ten minutes?
Her fingers twitched. Her mind went blank. She could hear the voice of her mother in her heart:
"Cook with your heart, Amber. It always tastes better."
Amber shut her eyes and sighed, and smiled feebly.
She took plain spices, a small pot, ginger, and chicken stock. What she made wasn't fancy. It wasn't aesthetic. But still it smelt of home, warm, cozy, homely.
As the panel entered, talking and condemning in high tones, Amber looked down.
Then two polished shoes halted in front of her table.
Her stomach dropped.
She was aware of smell, costly perfume, and something more intense.
Richard Cooper.
He looked at her bowl, and then her face... and he recalled her.
The girl with the ginger tea, he said to himself.
Amber's throat tightened. She remembered immediately "Sir, I... I'm really sorry about--"
He lifted one hand gently.
No. Have you cooked anything for me today?
She nodded nervously.
"Just... ginger chicken soup."
Richard tasted it.
His eyes went still.
His lips parted slowly.
There was a movement in his chest.
It wasn't just soup.
It was warmth. Hunger. Convenience that he was not aware that he lacked.
"That's it," he said softly.
One of the judges blinked. "Sir, should we shortlist her?"
Richard did not even glance at them.
"Hire her."
Amber gasped. "S-sir? I didn't even--"
"You did enough."
Her heart beat could not be controlled.
A HOME FULL OF EYES
Amber was escorted by a severe butler along the huge corridors. For the mansion was quiet and grand and cold, cold as it was looking up at her.
You will make dinner for the family this evening, the butler told him.
And keep out of the way of Madame Caroline.
Amber frowned. "Is she... strict?"
The butler hesitated.
A long pause.
"She is... observant."
That alone unnerved Amber.
FIRST MEETING WITH CAROLINE
Amber made her way into the living room. Caroline Cooper was sitting in front of the fire with her legs crossed in silk pajamas, yet it was nearing evening.
Sharp, intimidating, her beauty was.
Her eyes rose slowly.
Amber bowed slightly.
"Good evening, ma'am. I'm Amber…"
"I know who you are." The voice of Caroline was as smooth as ice. "The new girl."
She looked down at the shabby shoes Amber was wearing, the fading hem of her dress.
Then something flickered. Not recognition..memory.
A painful, cold, secret memory.
The look on Caroline closed nearly tightly.
What was the name of your mother? she asked casually.
Amber blinked. "My mom? Her name is..”
It does not matter, Caroline thought, standing up.
But do not talk to my husband, unless it is about food. Do you understand?"
Amber nodded quickly.
Caroline passed her, but without whispering:
"You don't belong here."
It wasn't jealousy yet.
It was a warning.
Something unknown to Amber gave her a warning...
But Caroline was too fresh in memory.
EDITH'S LITTLE WAR
A small figure stood in her path as Amber headed to the kitchen.
Edith.
The curly hair, pink pajamas, and the scorn of a queen in the body of a child.
"You're the new cooker?" the girl asked.
Amber knelt gently.
"Cook, sweetheart. Not cooker."
Edith wrinkled her nose.
"Daddy said you cook well. I do not like people Daddy likes.
Amber swallowed a laugh.
"I'm not here to take your daddy."
You better not, said Edith darkly. "Because I bite."
Amber almost choked.
This was an entire villain of a child.
RICHARD'S EYES FOLLOW HER
By the time Amber got into the kitchen to cook him some dinner, Richard was already there in front of the counter and holding a glass of water.
He threw his head back and looked at her as though he saw something out of the ordinary.
You tell a story with your cooking like you were telling a story, he said to himself.
Amber's cheeks warmed.
"I don't think I..”
"You do," he murmured.
"And it tastes... honest."
Amber froze.
It was not admiration of something in his tone.
It was want.
Curiosity.
Interest.
Danger.
My wife is as well informed as to learn with you, he stepped back because he remembered his place.
Amber gave a nod of shyness and put her apron in her grasp.
The eyes of Richard dropped, momentarily, as she knotted her apron around her waist.
A tiny moment.
But it changed something in him.
He had observed her hands when Amber cut ginger.
As she tied her hair behind her ear, he gulped.
He was nearly smiling when she mumbled in low tones, Do not burn please... help me today.
He didn't know it yet...
But here was the commencement of his obsession.
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