Chapter Ten - Clean Slate

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My elbows were still throbbing when I woke up the next morning. It wasn't like I meant to eavesdrop on their private conversation. At least I didn't mean to get caught, and Jaime's door wasn't all the way shut.

I was confused last night when Jaime didn't show up to escort me to dinner. Instead, Cole knocked on my door at six o'clock. His seat was vacant along with Izaha's and half the table. There was no small talk or cheerful faces either. Something had happened and I had bet that no one would tell me what that was. 

I was about to curl up in my armchair in the library after dinner when I heard voices shouting. My curiosity got the best of me and I followed the voices. Imagine my surprise when the voices led me straight to the storage room in the kitchen. I recognized Jaime's voice among the others as I stood outside the door and when I finally opened the door, it wasn't a room filled with cardboard boxes or totes, but a hallway with a cracked door at the end, light spilling out onto the carpet. I had only decided to eavesdrop because I wanted to know why Jaime and Izaha weren't at dinner even though it's apparently a big deal around here. However, what I did hear about someone attacking didn't make much sense anyway.

I rubbed my elbows, trying to soothe the carpet burn. After changing into a fresh set of clothes, ones that wouldn't rub my elbows all day, my stomach grumbled, leading me downstairs to the kitchen. 

Alma caught me on the stairs, asking if I wanted breakfast which I eagerly agreed to, and I followed her into the kitchen.

Being in the kitchen always brought me a sense of comfort and reminded me of home. When I was younger, my parents cooked dinner every night together. Sometimes I helped, but mostly I would sit at the table doing my schoolwork and watch them both as they cooked. They acted as one, handing the other items they never asked for but needed and never saying much unless it was Dad cracking a joke that wasn't funny but made Mom laugh anyway. So when I walked into the grand kitchen, which was much nicer than any kitchen I have ever been in, I let out a sigh of contentment.

Alma gave me the grand tour of the kitchen, opening each cabinet and explaining what was where. It took me a few tries, opening cabinets at random, before I handed her a pan that she asked for. She showed me how to make a breakfast quiche and while it was baking we sliced some fresh fruit. She told me that most people would drift in throughout the morning, coming in to eat breakfast with a quick "thank you" before heading out for the day.

"Do you make everyone's breakfast?" I asked, cutting the rind off a watermelon.

"Usually. Although they know that if I'm not around, they have to fend for themselves." She grabbed a large bowl of strawberries from the refrigerator and started washing them off.

"What about lunch?" 

"There's no one around for lunch most of the time. They're all out doing..." She trailed off softly, almost as if she was hoping I wouldn't notice so I stopped cutting the watermelon and turned to face her.

"Doing what?"

She doesn't answer, keeping her eyes on the strawberries in the sink that I was pretty sure were clean by now. I held back the sigh of frustration as I picked my knife back up, chopping maybe too aggressively into the fruit. 

The quiche came out of the oven a half hour later and we sat down together at the island. When I took my first bite, I finally broke the silence. "How did you learn how to cook so well? I mean, I've had a quiche before but not this good."

"Old family recipes and years of practice." Alma laughed.

After a few minutes of silent eating, I asked, "Alma, who's the blonde woman with green eyes and very, uh, aloof?" 

"Ah, so you've met Katrina then?" Alma glanced at me over her fork.

"Yeah. We met." While I trusted Alma the most in the house, I didn't think it wise to go gossiping about this Katrina to her.

When the first person trickled in for breakfast, someone who I might've recognized from dinner, I decided to sneak out of the kitchen, ignoring Alma's curious gaze. Just because I had the freedom didn't mean that I wanted to make friends with everyone. 

As soon as I was opening the door to my bedroom, someone emerged from the room next door.

"Ava?"

I glanced out the corner of my eye at Jaime. Even though his hair was already styled and he wore his usual dress attire, his eyes were haggard, like he had barely gotten any sleep last night.

I took a step into my room when he said, "I wanted to apologize."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. I heard his footsteps as he closed the distance between us and when I finally looked at him, he was only an arm's reach away. When he spoke again, his voice was low and husky. "I'm sorry for my behavior last night. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I just..." He ran a hand through his hair, eyes darting around him as if his words got lost in the air. "There's a lot of people relying on me and last night just.... I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry." 

Jaime leaned forward, his eyes burning with remorse. It took a few tries to take a deep breath in before I could reply. "I accept your apology." His shoulders sagged in relief. "But if this is going to work, if I'm going to be staying here for a while, we need to be able to trust each other. We need a clean slate."

I stuck my hand out between the small space between us before I had a chance to think about it. "I'm Ava."

For a moment, I didn't think Jaime would take my hand. Then he grabbed my hand and his warmth spread from my palm up my arm. "Jaime."

I pulled away quickly and clasped both hands behind my back, one foot still in the doorway of my bedroom. Jaime followed my hand with his eyes and his mouth turned up at the corners.

Cole appeared around the corner from the top of the stairs and faltered when he saw us. He shifted his attention to Jaime, whose eyes were still on me. "We need to head out soon, Jaime."

"I'll be out shortly." Jaime curtly dismissed Cole and he left, an amused look on his face. He was probably wondering why I didn't try to leave after last night.

Jaimed looked as if he wanted to say something else, opening his mouth, but decided against it. Instead, he nodded his head and I returned a small smile, watching him go. I could still feel the warmth from his hand long after he left.

*****

I spent the rest of the day in the library, only venturing out when my stomach grumbled for lunch. Even with a book in my hands, it was hard to focus on the words on the page. I kept thinking back to the truce I had made with Jaime and whether it was a smart idea. His constant mood swings threw me off guard every time. One moment, he seems like a decent human being and the next he's a raging bull in a china shop, destroying anything and anyone.

When it was almost time for dinner, I headed back to my room to get ready. After changing into another dress, I was starting to really hate heels. I walked out of the closet to find Jaime leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

"I was wondering when you'd be back." I remarked, struggling with the incredibly long zipper on my dress in the mirror on the back of the closet door. When I looked at him in the mirror, he didn't say anything as he stared at me. His dress pants and shirt were wrinkle free, but the lines set in his face showed his fatigue.

"Long day?"

"You could say that." 

The small metal zipper slipped free from my hand. I reached my arm over my head, trying to grab it but the zipper was barely out of my grasp. "Will you help me?"

Jaime strode across the room quietly, and I turned my back to him. I felt his fingers graze across the bare skin of my back as he slowly zipped the dress closed. He lingered at the nape of my neck before his hands fell back down by his side.

I ducked back into the closet, hiding my flushed face and grabbed a pair of shoes. When I came back out, he was back in his spot by the door, this time his arms were crossed over his chest. 

"What exactly is it that you do anyway?" I sat on the side of the bed to strap the heels on. I wasn't surprised when he didn't answer me. I stood, smoothing out my dress. "Never mind. Let's get going or we'll be late. Probably." I strolled out of the room, the fabric of my dress brushing Jaime when I passed through the door.

"It's not like I'd know what time it is anyway." I muttered under my breath.

"What are you going on about?" I could imagine Jaime rolling his eyes behind me.

"Well," I started, spinning around to look at him. His eyebrows were raised and a smirk rested on his lips. "It's not like there are any clocks in this house. It's starting to drive me insane. At least give me a watch. Or a sundial would be great. Maybe even a phone."

"No phone." He rebuffed quickly, shaking his head.

"Only joking." I raised my hands in front of me, innocently. "A sundial then. Or a watch."

"I think that can be arranged." Jaime chuckled.

Dinner passed smoothly. It seemed they were getting used to my presence next to Jaime. Only a few curious glances our way. Everyone seemed in better spirits tonight as people chatted and joked with each other. There was only one empty chair tonight.

"Trina's out doing surveillance tonight." Cole commented, catching me studying the empty chair.

"Surveillance of what?" I furrowed my eyebrows, watching him shovel another forkful of lasagna in his mouth. 

"Not what. Who." Cole answered, swallowing his bite. He was about to elaborate when he winced in pain. He turned incredulous to Jaime. "Did you just kick me?"

"No." Jaime glared at Cole, his expression hardening.

"Well someone kicked me." Cole mumbled, focusing on the plate in front of him. I dropped the subject, pretty sure that Jaime did kick him.

As soon as the meal was over, Jaime pulled out his phone and rushed from the room, before anyone else had time to stand up, speaking harshly into the phone.

"Sorry about him." Cole apologized, standing from his chair.

I shrugged. "So, who's under surveillance?"

Cole grinned mischievously and shook his head. "I have a feeling Jaime wouldn't want me to tell you if the bruise forming on my leg tells me anything."

"What does it matter? It's not like I can tell anyone." I rolled my eyes, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

"How much do you know about us?" Cole asked, coming to a halt beside me.

"Nothing. No one will tell me anything." I told him. I didn't see the big deal in keeping everything a secret. I had no way of telling anyone and even if I did, I had no one to tell.

"It's probably best. It's only for your protection."

"I don't need to be sheltered. I'm not a child." I grumbled, storming off down the hall, well aware that it may look like I was acting like a child but I hated being clueless. They could at least tell me something.

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