Jack stood beside the kitchen’s staff member, Danny, at the sink, sleeves rolled up, as they washed plates in silence. It had been Jack's idea to help clean up after most of the daytime customers had left, and Danny had hesitated, shocked at the notion. Jack had insisted, brushing aside Danny’s protests with a grin and reaching for the soap.

Later in the afternoon, Sarah walked through the kitchen door, her expression frozen in disbelief. The look of shock and horror on her face mirrored Danny’s from earlier, and in that moment, Jack understood why the young man had been so nervous about his decision to help. They stood side by side now, both facing the door as if awaiting a verdict for their crime.

Jack caught the way Sarah’s sharp gaze landed on Danny, her eyes narrowing like she might pounce at any moment. He stepped forward before she could speak.

"It’s not his fault," Jack said quickly, meeting her gaze. "Danny tried to stop me. I wouldn’t listen."

Her voice trembled with restraint. "Don’t tell me that!" she snapped, trying to hold her temper in check. "Since when has a customer ever been in the back clearing dishes? Where in the history of this place has that happened? Danny, I hired you weeks ago. I told you customer service is crucial to what we do. And now I find a customer working with you?"

Danny’s face drained of color, his hands trembling. "I’m so sorry, ma’am," he stammered, nearly collapsing under the weight of her disapproval. "It’s just like he said—he came in and started working. I couldn’t stop him."

Jack nodded, his voice steady and calm. "That’s the truth." He held her gaze, unflinching, watching the tension flicker across her features.

Sarah’s lips tightened and trembled, as if trying to form words she couldn’t quite manage. Her frustration boiled over in silence before she turned on her heel, snatching a woven basket from the counter. Without another word, she swept out of the lounge, disappearing through the back door, leaving Jack and Danny standing in the heavy quiet she left behind.

Danny made a short, frightened wail. Jack looked at him in pity. He couldn't have been more than seventeen or eighteen, and the fear of losing his job was concrete on his face. He looked helpless already. Jack clamped him on the shoulder reassuringly with his drying hand before going out after Sarah.

He went through the back door just in time to see her go around the guest house. He ran and caught up with her. She was walking fast, with a pissed-off gait, and he could feel the annoyance emanating from her body. The basket was hung over the crook of her elbow like it was a handbag, and she said nothing as he fell into step with her.

Her destination was a revelation to Jack. He hadn't thought to wonder what could be behind the guest house where he had slept. It was an expanse of land which was turned into a beautiful garden. From there, he could see stalks and stalks of corn coming up in the back. When they got even closer, he saw that the space had been partitioned with crops or veggies to the left and to the right. The left was also split into two, as was the right. It made the plan neat and the crops easier to access, he guessed.

Jack figured that the basket on her arm was either for the spinach he saw growing beautifully in the area before them or for the tomatoes. They looked succulent too. He could just imagine how tasty and nutritious they would be in whatever meal they were for. Again, as with everything else, he was impressed.

"Nice garden," he couldn't help but compliment out loud.

"Thanks," she said through clenched teeth. "I like growing things."

"I see..." Jack wondered how many times he would annoy her in a day. "And you do that very well, as I can see." He nodded toward the crops they had now reached.

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"Yes," she said, still tight-lipped.

"Everything is so well done. The organization of the entire business is top-notch. I must commend you."

She turned on him then, her hair flipping and flying so suddenly, enough to make him remember it had been packed up before she left for wherever she was "late" to. Could she have let it down for something... Or someone?

"You commend me," she said, almost making it sound like a question, "and yet you want to destabilize the structure!"

"I— I don’t get you," Jack lied effortlessly.

She steeled her eyes at him, reducing them into slits.

"You won't apologize?" Her face peered so close to his in the expression of her displeasure. He saw the little laugh lines around her eyes and the smoothness of her cheeks. He had a sudden desire to run a thumb over each so he could feel them and discover what "silk" truly meant. He felt like a virgin longing with excitement to know...to understand. "You made a fool out of yourself, my systems, and that poor boy, and you had the effrontery to stand there and try to make little chit chat as though you did nothing wrong? What audacity!"

"I was only trying to help out. I didn't know it would anger you this way. I swear." She looked like she thought him the worst liar on earth. "I wanted to make everything up to you."

She was taken aback. "Make what up to me?"

"My behaviors and attitude. My words... My 'high-class nonsense'." Jack put quotes in the air. "I realized that apologizing with words could not be enough for how I downplayed your business. Showing my support and appreciation for what you have running here by helping out was what I could think of. I really am sorry."

She looked away for a moment and then looked back at him. He saw that she was just a little less pissed. "It just totally irked me to see a customer working, that's all. It had never happened in the history of this place."

Jack grinned. "So, I made history, didn’t I?" His eyes caught the faintest twitch of a smile on her lips. "Maybe I deserve some accolades for that."

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You and your obsession with praise," she teased, her tone playful but pointed. "Must’ve been nice in your high-class world, huh? Seems like your whole day is spent waiting for applause—and getting it."

"Well..." he said as she crouched to the ground and carefully began to uproot some spinach. He crouched down and began to help her.

"Well, what?" Sarah placed her hand over Jack's to halt him helping. Its warmth sent thrills down his spine. "Careful while uprooting. You have to do it the right way. Look!" She demonstrated a few more times, shaking the spinach out and placing them in the basket for him to see. "Got it?"

Jack nodded and smiled softly at her. She smiled back.

He started to pull the vegetables as she had taught him.

"Well?" she repeated after a few seconds. "What's the story, Mr.? Don't leave my ears hanging."

Jack chuckled.

"I did get frequent accolades," he began to tell her slowly, as their hands touched momentarily while placing spinach into the basket. "But I didn't come from heaven."

"Oh!" she said in mock surprise, her eyes widening. Jack lightly chuckled in response. "You don’t?"

"No, ma'am," he said amidst his laughter. "I was a writer. People—many people, actually—said I was the best, and so they gave me said accolades."

"Hmm," she said in a joking voice. "There goes the high-class pride again, cloaked in a guise of humility."

"What the fuck!" Jack said, laughing, before he realized the word he had used. "Sorry for the profanity."

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand without looking at him. "It's okay." She kept her eyes on the vegetables. "We fuck here just as you fuck in your heaven. Don't worry."

For some unknown reason, Jack couldn't take his eyes off of her. He was so captivated that he didn't even realize how long he had been staring until she reached out and took the basket they were both holding, standing up to her full height.

"This should do," she said. "Let's move over to the other side and get some tomatoes."

He stood and followed her with a fascinated gaze. This time, he didn't resist when his eyes drifted to her derrière.