DAISY

If I really need money to spend this holiday at my mom's, then I have to peel myself off this supposedly comfortable bed that feels like a bunch of needles and get going for work.

I came back to bed around five in the morning after hours of crying in the silent night. Even when the sobs stopped, I couldn't bring myself to function with the thought of Kay kissing her just like we did hours ago.

He was mine for a few minutes in his car yesterday afternoon. It was just him and me, as if no one else existed. We were breathing the same air, holding on to each other like the moment would never end.

I know he's not mine, so why does it hurt this much? Why can't I shake off the feeling and let go of his scent?

It takes me twenty minutes to get ready, most of which I spend on makeup. Then another ten to speak with my mom. She promises she's fine, though her voice is low. She says it's because she's sleepy—it's almost midnight—so I say goodnight and head downstairs to the kitchen to make some coffee. But as soon as I turn the corner, I have to process what my eyes just saw before returning my gaze to the living room, where Paul and two unfamiliar men dressed in identical black suits stand.

"Paul?" I call out, confused.

"Good morning, ma'am," he responds.

"Okay?" I need answers for the confusion I'm forced to endure this morning.

"These are the additional team members, Knightley and Andre," Paul introduces them.

"Excuse me?" I gape.

What?

"We're mostly undercover. We won't crowd you, ma'am," one of them—Knightley or Andre—explains.

So Kay meant it. He had to hire more men to suffocate me with what? Protection from Caden? I'm sure what I really need protection from is him.

What's his deal, playing me like a football match? Well, it's simple—it's his way of torturing me for something I still have no idea about.

"I'll make some coffee, and then we can leave for West Bay," I announce despairingly and head to the kitchen. "You're aware we can't ride in the same car?" I throw sarcastically to the men while setting up the coffee machine.

I'm sure the asshole is sleeping peacefully right now in his girlfriend's arms, or he's probably having a nightmare that he would gladly bring to life and send my way.

Whatever it is, it sends shivers and sadness through me.

"Yes, ma'am. Knightley and I will ride in a different car," Andre—I'm sure it's him—answers.

***

We arrive at West Bay on time, but more importantly, I feel strained, with these security guards all over me. I definitely don't look like an employee if anyone cares to give their opinion.

The restaurant is huge and so luxurious, though not occupied given the time of day.

Paul agrees to hang around with Knightley and Andre, though they all go on and play the customer card.

"Hello," I say to the young woman with short, trimmed hair.

"Welcome to West Bay," she smiles, the kind that's obviously practiced to satisfy customers.

"Uh, I got hired here."

"Daisy Esteban?" she guesses, her small eyes narrowing quizzically.

"Yes."

"Anyone would say the same. Why do I always blurt out names before people say them?" she mutters under her breath, but I hear her.

"I have the email; I can show you," I offer.

She shoots me an apologetic smile that says, *Please do.*

"Cool, come with me."

After a quick tour and introduction to the team, I learn everyone's name, including Kate's, the young woman I first met.

"You're on for customer assistance. Are you okay with that?" Kate asks.

"Yes." I'm up for anything legal if it means I can buy a plane ticket to Hong Kong and more so I can move out of that penthouse before I cause too much damage.

"Okay, I'll show you the kitchen and lockers."

"Alright, thank you." I follow behind her.

What I'm content about is that the guys stayed true to their word. They remained undercover the whole time I worked, and no one judged me for being too *first-daughter style,* thanks to Kay and his loathing for me.

Riley comes in around eleven and apologizes for missing her first customer spot. She says Kay was being a jerk once more, and she had to clean up the mess he made. I'm curious about why, but it's not my place to interfere. He's her boyfriend. She'll tell me if she thinks I should know.