The next Monday when I walked inside the showroom, Sawyer wasn't there.

By the time lunch rolled in, there was still no sign of him and everybody began to whisper whenever they got a little break from the rush hour.

Sawyer Ronnes did not miss a work day ever since he was in charge of the showroom. Not for sick leaves. Not even when his father had gone to coma during his first year management and that was rumored to be the most intense year for him. Then what pushed him to do so now?

That was the question revolving around me all day long. Even I had my own set of questions for him. Did his father really killed her mother and he knew about it? Did he play me like a pawn? He had been quite persistent in convincing me to join him in this mission and I too had agreed to avenge him out of righteousness.

Did I... Did I do the wrong thing?

I mean, I did not regret playing against Devon. He had used me like a well worn tissue before discarding me. But Sawyer? I did not know if I could handle being a lego block the second time. I had invested too much in this ruse, to be honest.

If only I wasn't bound to Devon's uncle in the first place...

I sighed, walking out of the showroom. A fresh hot wave of Downtown evening breeze washed over me at that moment.

I spotted my car in a row of parking zone on my right and straightened my handbag over my shoulder. My black heels clicked on the rough concrete as cars buzzed past me, blaring ugly horns and killing my eardrums. Throwing a passing gray VW a glare, I stopped before my dingy one and opened the zip of my bag.

I was rummaging the inside for keys when my phone began vibrating.

I frowned.

Who could be calling me now? Yuvan?

I found the phone buried deep into the mess of my handbag and hurled it out just in time to see Sawyer's name flashing on the screen.

The phone went blank afterwards and so did my face.

With pursed lips, I was about to put it back in when the phone buzzed again.

My jaw clenched hard and I pressed the answer button.

"Yes, sir?" I gritted my teeth the second the phone touched my ear.

"Are you okay?" his concerned voice did something weird to my inside.

And I hated it.

"You're calling to ask that?"

"I need you to book a plane ticket. Right. Now."

My temper just flared high to the clouds.

Who the hell did he think he was ordering me around?

"We're off hours, sir, in case you didn't notice. And some of us have office next morning."

"Hayes, book the ticket. To Dallas. Now."

I frowned. "Why Dallas? We'd just been to Texas a couple days ago!"

"You'll know when you get there."

No.

"I'm sorry but I can't—"

"This is an order, Hayes."

How dare...

"You just can't—"

"I just did."

Before I got out the next word, he hung up.

He. Fucking. Hung. Up. On. Me!

I felt like screaming to the sky.

Only people would think I had lost my screws so I refrained myself.

That prickling son of a devil!

***

I grumbled while getting out the airport, dragging my orange suitcase through the rough pavement of Dallas International.

What had become of my life? All day slave off like a bloody servant and in the evening rush to the other corner of the states—just because his highness had demanded.

Not to mention, Yuvan snickered the whole time I had been packing my bags and coughed 'slave' at least one thousand times. Stupid men!

I looked at my phone and checked the address Sawyer had sent me during my overnight flight. After confirming that indeed Sawyer was dragging me to some quaint little countryside, I squinted at the rising sun toward the east.

Cabs were rushing left and right in that direction. Luckily, I managed to flag one down and jumped in.

"To Maiden Valley. Thank you."

The next three hours was spent in blissful silence and I used that time to catch up on some sleep, scenery outside could wait after I become human again.

I planned to dream about the warm sun, Miami beach, and tropical drink with lemon stuck on my salty rim, and God knew I was there. I was so there enjoying the sun bath in the crisp noon on that golden beach. I was even drinking that tasteless blue drink, licking the bland salt off the round glass rim.

But—and that was a big ass but—a pair of honey-gold eyes suddenly flashed from nowhere and spat on my drink.

"You're such a fool, Doll!" He slapped his knees, laughing is ass off.

And I jerked awake, taking moments to realize that it was just a bump on the road.

Uh... not road, actually. Street. Muddy street with tall golden grass field gracing the both side of the road.

I frowned.

Where we in the right place? This might be my first time in Dallas but surely Sawyer wouldn't call me that deep into a countryside, right? What business did he even have here anyway?

"We're entering the Maiden Valley, ma'am." The burly black driver threw me a glance through the rearview mirror.

I nodded and checked my phone for the detailed address.

"Um... Take me to Seventy-Sixth Dixon Street, Rosewood Square. Winters Ville."

"On it."

I looked again to see if I got it right. The address was correct. However, that still did not answer my question about why Sawyer needed me there.

With a sigh, I looked out at the passing fields.

I guess, I would find out soon enough.

***

The cab stopped before a giant black wrought iron gate.

Inside, there was a vast open green field with a two story white manor right in the middle.

The driver beeped the horn twice before a man in jeans and tee came rushing toward the gate. His lean, strong arms pulled the gate open, allowing us to pass through the flattened gray patch on the ground—clearly used for the impromptu driveway.

The cab came to a final halt beside the wooden manor before I jumped out of the car.

I was busy cracking my hip bones while the big man driver hauled out my cramped suitcase from the backside of the cab.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw the man in tee jogging toward us from afar.

"Hey, Doll. Safe travel?"

It took me double attempts to glance back at the familiar deep voice and when I did, my jaw hung agape as the man in tee grinned.

"Sawyer!"

I eyed the beaming man up and down. Worn out white tee. Dirty jeans. Brown muddy boots. No way this was the Sales King of our Trexon Empire.

And then, those honey-gold eyes offered a wink and I was back to earth.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I cleared my throat after realizing the unprofessional mishap of my tongue.

Sawyer only offered a rich chuckle in response. "Gotta admit, that look was priceless!"

And temper from earlier burst higher.

"Yeah. It's so fun to drag someone all the way down to a countryside just to show off your cowboy look."

Sawyer's grin did not dim once at that jab, though. He just shook his head.

"Go freshen up. Freddy should be fetching you up to your guest room."

"Freddy?"

"Butler."

Whoa...

"So, this is one of your house?"

"Nope. Here. Keep the change." Sawyer patted the driver's shoulder while pocketing the wallet I didn't know when he hurled out.

"Hey, that's my cab."

"Sure is." He waved at the driver getting inside and driving away.

"Why did you pay then? I was just about to do that."

"Consider that as a compensation for bringing you here like that." He grabbed my suitcase and began walking up the wide wooden porch steps.

I just stood there dumbfounded as though he didn't just act so nonchalant after basically going MIA for a day.

"What were you even doing back there?" I couldn't help but flail my arm toward the direction he had rushed in before opening the gate.

Sawyer just threw a smirk from the wide glass door.

"Playing cowboy, Doll. Now, come in."

***

Freddy—the brown Caucasian seventeen—was all smiles since he found me from the open lobby of the manor. Well, me and Sawyer, actually. But since he scarced himself from there for the sake of some work or something, it had been only me and Freddy.

He had bright blue eyes and an even brighter teeth which never ceased to disappear even when he had to hurl my heavy suitcase up the stairs. Those thin arms under that loose dotted shirt were really deceptive, I must say.

The one more thing that I found endearing about him was that his lack of speech did not hinder in the way of our communication at all.

When I had asked during our walk about why he wouldn't speak, he just typed on his phone with one hand and showed me with a smile.

"Cuz I'm mute."

And just like that, he made a big dent in my heart the size of Freddy Ortega.

Freddy walked me to room—a medium-sized wood work of brown floor and beige walls with two big white windows beside a queen-size bed—and left me to unpack things.

The rest of the morning, I arranged my little assortment of clothes—because I didn't know how long I would have to stay here—in the generous walk-in closet adjacent to the bed. I washed off the travel's fatigue in the hot shower next door to the closet, afterward.

Right now, I was brushing my wet strands.

The floral-printed, belle-sleeved, white blouse looked well with my washed out blue jeans. I paired that with leather black boot heels and called it a day.

By the time, I walked down to the open living, crispy, spicy bacon was humming my name from the kitchen on my left.

Freddy was flying around the marble counters with plates in one hand and a spatula in the other.

Wasn't he just a butler, Sawyer said?

I chuckled at the multitasking pro and walked inside the kitchen.

I took a long sniff of the savory bacon with the side of dragonfruits and blueberry waffles.

"Mmm... Smells nice."

Freddy threw me a grin over his shoulder before flipping the sizzling slice of a bacon.

I helped myself with a plate and served a little of everything on the table with the addition of a fresh orange juice.

I couldn't help. I was just a famished little beast right now.

Freddy joined me a moment later. But only to serve me water and more bacon.

"You won't eat?"

He shook his head and typed something on his phone before showing me.

'I've done breakfast long before you came. Just warming these up for you."

"Oh," I nodded, taking another bite of the syrupy goodness of a waffle.

Freddy went back to wipe the counter with a wet towel.

"So, you're the butler and the cook too, huh? The ultimate all in one?"

Freddy snorted and shrugged.

"Wow. That's great. Your employer must be lucky to have you."

Freddy paused and typed something on the phone before flashing the screen to me.

'Employers. And yeah, I'm the lucky one to have them. They are good guys.'

I smiled. "Sounds great. Where are they, though?"

'Out in the cafe. They are very busy these days so has to rush open early.'

I hummed, taking a gulp of the orange juice. "They must be running a successful business then."

Freddy shook his head, his smile dimming a notch.

'Not really. Things are a bit slow down there so they have to work extra hard.'

I frowned and finished swallowing the latest bite before speaking, "Why? Is there a lack of customers?"

Freddy sighed, tossing the wet rug in the sink before leaning against the counter and typing.

'Not just customer. The other day some food inspectors came and nit picked a bunch of things from the kitchen. Nothing that serious, though. Still, the words got out and people are now wary to even come to our cafe. They are more liking the new one right down the block from ours.'

"You know so much about the cafe."

He smirked.

'You're looking at the esteemed cashier slash cook of Cafe de la Winters.'

"Oh my! Celebrity!" I slapped my cheeks with the heel of my hands and gave him goggle eyes.

His chest just rumbled in silent laughter and I joined him in the merry feat, ignoring the sudden nagging feeling in the back of my mind.