The Camden estate lood quiet that Monday morning, its stone arches casting long shadows across the driveway.
Rachel’s shoes crunched against the gravel as she approached the front door, her heart thumping harder with every step.
It still felt surreal. Just last week, Chloe had told her about the opportunity—that Mr. Camden needed soone to care for him in his illness.
Rachel had agreed quickly, partly because she needed the work, partly because Chloe had said he personally asked her to find soone trustworthy and well, she was soone trustworthy.
Although Chloe had said Mr. Camden was a nice man, she couldn’t help but anticipate how their first encounter would go.
What was he like? How sick was he? Could he stand? Or move around on his own? Was he very old?
She’d said she wasn’t nervous about her first day but as she knocked on the door, she couldn’t help her nerves going up.
How was she supposed to act? She mused as she waited for soone to open the door.
The butler, Mr. Hanes, opened the door, his eyes flicking over her with sothing like surprise. He didn’t comnt, though, only gave a short nod. "Miss Smith. He’s in the study. This way."
Her palms were damp as she tightened her grip on her tote bag. Caretaker, she reminded herself. Just a caretaker. Nothing more.
She inhaled and smoothed her palms down her skirt as she followed the butler.
Her nerves buzzed in her chest. This wasn’t like babysitting Timothy. This was different. He wasn’t a child—he was a man used to power, a man everyone spoke of with a mix of admiration and intimidation.
The study door opened, and there he was.
Mr. Camden sat in a tall-backed chair by the window, sunlight pooling across the blanket draped over his lap. His silver hair caught the light, sharp against the tired lines of his face. He looked every bit the formidable figure she’d imagined, except for the subtle frailty in his shoulders that illness had carved into him.
His blue eyes landed on her, and he looked her over, assessing her. They narrowed almost imdiately.
"You’re Rachel?" he asked, his tone tinged with surprise.
"Yes, sir." She clasped her hands before her, fighting the urge to fidget.
"You’re younger than I expected." His voice was deep, gravelly. "Chloe didn’t ntion that part."
How was soone as young as her take care of him? Would he even be comfortable around soone like her? Why didn’t Chloe look for soone older? Mr Camden thought.
Rachel forced a steady smile. She never knew he would be displeased with her age. Besides, what has age got to do with being a caretaker? She thought as she took a deep breath and t his gaze.
"You wanted soone reliable. I may be young, but I’m capable. Chloe wouldn’t recomnd if I wasn’t," she said, the smile still in place even though it wasn’t reaching her eyes.
His lips pressed into a thin line. "We’ll see."
The silence stretched, broken only by the faint tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. Rachel swallowed, then carefully set her bag down.
"Before we start," she said softly, "I should tell you—I’ll need to leave every day at three to pick up my nephew from school. I’ll give you my full attention until then, but Timothy depends on . I’ll bring him here and we’ll take care of you together till it’s ti to leave," she said, looking at him.
His gaze sharpened. "So you’re already dividing your duties and you haven’t even started. Interesting."
Rachel’s cheeks heated, but she lifted her chin. "No, sir. I’m being honest about my priorities. I’ll never neglect you, but I won’t lie either. He’s family."
For a mont, she thought she’d ruined it already. But then sothing flickered in his expression—not approval, exactly, but maybe recognition. "You’re bold. Not many would speak that way on their first day. That’s what the doctor dropped for you. List of things he thinks I should do and not do," he said, his eyes never leaving her.
Rachel exhaled quietly, moving toward the tea set on the table where the paper lay. She picked it up and read through it.
After she was done, she poured a cup of tea and added his morning dication, placing it neatly on the side table beside him. "Here, sir."
Mr. Camden’s eyes dropped to the pills, then lifted back to her with a faint smirk. "I don’t take those."
Her brows furrowed. "Excuse ?"
"I said, I don’t take them. It’s a waste of ti and my energy." He leaned back, arms folding across his chest. "Doctors exaggerate everything. I know my body."
Rachel hesitated, then pulled up the stool across from him, sitting forward so her eyes t his squarely. "With respect, sir, that’s not negotiable. If you hired , it’s because you wanted soone to help you manage your health. If you won’t take your dication, then you’re making my job impossible."
His eyes narrowed, the faintest trace of amusent curving his lips. "You think you can order ?"
Rachel’s pulse quickened, but she didn’t look away. "I’m not ordering you. I’m reminding you that you wanted help. Help ans letting soone look out for you—even when you don’t want to."
The air stretched tight between them, his stare heavy, her resolve trembling but unbroken. Then, with a slow exhale, he reached for the pills. His fingers brushed hers as he took the cup, and he downed them in one swallow.
Setting the glass down with a clink, he said, "Stubborn. Just like Chloe said."
Rachel’s lips twitched despite herself. "Maybe. But at least, I get things done."
A rough chuckle escaped him then, startling her. It wasn’t warm exactly, but it wasn’t cold either—it was sothing in between, grudging respect wrapped in irritation.
As she gathered the empty cup, she felt his gaze still on her, sharp and unrelenting.
Rachel knew, with a certainty that made her stomach tighten, that this job was going to be far more challenging than she’d imagined.
But beneath that challenge, she also sensed sothing else—sothing she couldn’t na yet.
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