BRAIDED BROOD

Chapter 4

Early the next morning, Chairman Kyle and Secretary York strode briskly through the grand halls, alerted by a frantic emergency report from the Jupiter mansion. When they entered the primary living room, they stopped dead in their tracks. The place was an absolute disaster. Secretary York immediately called out for the caretaker, “Mr. Kee,” as they walked through the house.

“Damn it,” the chairman muttered, his blood pressure climbing by the second. “Butler! Are you there? Mr. Kee? Why is the house such a complete mess?”

His anger spiked at the sight of a stray bra draped over his prized, custom-framed artwork. A faint, flopping noise drew them toward the dining room.

“What’s that noise?” The chairman asked.

“But there’s nobody here,” York murmured. Before they could realize what was happening, Mr. Kee was literally duct-taped and glued to the ceiling, desperately trying to cough a scrap of paper off his taped mouth so he could speak.

“Over here, sir. I’m up here... on the ceiling!” He cried.

After being brought down and explaining the psychological torment that his grandsons inflicted on him, he decided to quit. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m quitting! Your grandsons are devils! Real Devils!” He screamed aloud, then apologized when he realized it immediately. “Well, sir… That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s fine.” Chairman Kyle responded while working away in a huff. “It’s hereditary after all.”

“Well, Sir…not a single day goes quietly around here anymore," York noted, trailing behind him. "Though this was expected when you called the boys together, wasn't it?”

“Even so, it’s been a year since those three boys started living together. I can’t let them act like this any longer,” the chairman snapped.

“I’ll find a new butler as soon as possible,” York reassured him.

“Just use the money to get someone. I’m sure someone will be willing. And if they quit, we can hire a pricier one.”

“Yes, sir!” York bowed.

Still worried, the Chairman asked himself quietly. “Who on earth could I hire that would knock some sense into all of them?”

That night at the convenience store, Emily stared at her pay slip like it might multiply if she looked hard enough. “I can pay my tuition deposit when I get paid tomorrow!” She cheered loudly. “Ahhh… I have finally saved up to two thousand dollars. Two thousand! Yes!”

“I think you miscalculated,” a voice interrupted.

Huxley stood in front of her, looking delighted.

“Excuse me?” She blinked, dumbfounded.

He brought out an ice cream cone. “Does this thing really cost two thousand dollars?”

Emily blinked again before snapping back into cashier mode. “I’m sorry, that’ll be a dollar, sir. This one is a buy-one-get-one-free.”

Huxley looked baffled.

What?”

"Buy. One. Get one. Free," she repeated, slower.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you get another free ice cream.” She answered.

“Is there such a thing? Whoa… amazing. But what should I do? I’m only planning to eat one.” He teased her.

A few minutes later, they sat at a small side table that was meant for customers. Emily gobbled her ice cream like a hungry kid, while Huxley stared at her in surprise.

“Gosh! You eat so well,” he remarked.

“It’s free, after all,” she responded with her mouth filled with ice cream.

Huxley raised an eyebrow. “Are you dropping honorifics and speaking casually to me?”

“Well, you started it…”

“Besides, I'm the customer here,” he shot back before she could answer, then caught himself, amused at his own line.

She smirked, wiping her mouth. “But you’ve already made a payment, so technically, you're just a loiterer now.”

Huxley let out a disbelief-filled laugh. “Look at this punk. How thuggish. Whatever, I think someone like you will be perfect.” He leaned closer to her with his ice cream. “Let me ask you for a favor.”

“What is it?” She asked instantly, cautious.

“Give me some of your time tomorrow from 9:00 pm to midnight. Just three hours.”

She gave him a rictus and returned to her desk, but Huxley trailed after her like a lost puppy.

“Please, just leave, okay?” she signed.

“Hey! I’m still talking to you.”

“If you want me to listen, say something that actually makes sense.”

“I’m not asking you to do this for free. I’ll give you seven hundred dollars. Okay, how about a thousand, four hundred dollars, then?”

She sneered. “Was that ice cream spoiled? Are you out of your mind?”

“I have money.” He insisted, like that settled everything.

“People who say that are usually untrustworthy. Are you trying to imply that you can buy people with money?”

He shrugged. "Sure, why not? Using money to solve problems instead of arguments or violence. Isn’t that a lot more pleasant and peaceful...”

“You mean using money to cover up your problem instead of actually dealing with it?” She countered.

He smiled at her cheerfully. “You definitely know what I'm talking about.”

“Prove it, then,” she challenged him. “Prove that you have that kind of money to buy my time.”

In the blink of an eye, he ordered everything that was in the store and dropped stacks of cash on the counter.

Emily froze, jaw dropping at the sight of it. For a moment, she couldn't get a single word out.

“I’ve proven myself now, right?” Huxley smirked.

“Yeah… hhhh. Do you want… a receipt?” She stammered.

“Give me your number.”

Emily went quiet, completely stunned. He smirked at her silence. “Hey, come on… You see? You’re at a loss for words because I'm just way too cool, right?”

Before she could protest, he reached out, grabbed her forearm, and uncapped a marker, scribbling his phone number in bold digits right across her skin. “Call me.”

Jeffery drove his motorcycle to the workshop late that night. He was still pulling off his helmet when his boss spotted him and let out a long, frustrated breath. “Why did you come here so late?”

Jeffery smiled. “I thought you might’ve missed me. Have you had dinner?”

“No, I’ll eat later.”

“Oh, really? I’ll stop by a convenience store nearby then.”

“No, it’s fine,” his boss declined the offer.

“Just wait!” Jeffery jogged over to the nearby store, where Emily was working, and quickly filled a basket. “Hi. Can you heat all these, please?”

“Of course, she responded, scanning the items. That’ll be sixty-five dollars."

He pulled his hand in his pocket only to realize that he had left his card at the workshop. “Just a moment, please. I forgot my card… He took off running back to the shop.”

Meanwhile, back at the workshop. One of the colleagues grumbled. “Convenience store food? Why does he treat us so poorly?”

His boss noticed and asked him. “What is it?”

"He shouldn't be spending money like that and not lending any of it to us. How nice would that be?”

“You caused trouble again, didn’t you?”

“Well… no. Actually, my younger brother beat someone up, and they want four thousand dollars as a settlement,” the colleague admitted.

With a solemn expression, the boss calmly replied, “Forget it. He specifically asked us to treat him exactly like before. That means he doesn’t want us to talk about money…”

“But back then, all of us were miserable,” the colleague muttered. “Honestly, isn’t he being too much? We’ve known each other for so many years.”

“Stop saying things like that,” the boss scolded him. “It only takes a single moment to sever ties with someone.”

Jeffery, standing behind the wall, heard everything. He turned his back and left in disappointment.

By then, Emily had finished heating everything he'd ordered. She spotted him through the window, walking right past like he'd forgotten all about it, and hurried outside after him.

“Hey! What’s going on? Sir! You have to pay for the food.”

“Ahhh!” Jeffery was startled.

“Do you not have money? You asked me to heat up everything, so I’ve already opened them all.”

“I’ll pay you tomorrow.”

Emily was astonished by what he said. “What? Why is the world against me today? How am I supposed to believe that?”

“I said I will pay you.” He answered her sadly.

“You’re just doing this so that you don’t have to pay, right?”

“I have way too much money to be pulling that kind of scam on you.” This made Emily more furious.

“Are you serious right now? Hurry up and pay!”

He unclasped his luxurious watch and handed it over. “Take this as collateral.”

“You’re such a jerk.” She hissed, snatching the watch. “You can’t even say that you’re sorry. Make sure you bring the money tomorrow!” She spun around and marched back into the store, fuming.

With nowhere else to go, Jeffery found himself outside Jasmine’s workspace. Inside, her phone rang. It was one of Huxley’s friends.

“Hello, Jasmine. I have a piece of unbelievable news just for you,” the voice said. “What is it?” She asked. “Huxley might be bringing a girl to his grandpa’s wedding. You should brace yourself…”

“A girl?” She interrupted. “I mean, Huxley has tons of girls. Bye.”

She hung up and screamed in frustration, accidentally pricking her finger with a sewing pin. Outside, Jeffery heard the yelp and was through the door in seconds.

“Are you hurt?”

Jasmine was surprised by his sudden presence, but answered quickly too.

“I’m okay. When did you get in here?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he took her hand and turned her finger toward the light, inspecting the prick. “You do this to yourself all the time, don't you? Where are your Band Aids?”