As they stepped into the dining room, Gabriela's eyes widened in wonder. The table was a feast for the senses, laden with an array of dishes that sparkled under the soft glow of blue lights. Mr. Jackson and Cariah sat at the far end of the table, engrossed in conversation, but Mr. Jackson's eyes lit up as he caught sight of Gabriela and Miguel.
"Ah, welcome, welcome!" Mr. Jackson exclaimed, rising from his seat. "Gabriela, you're looking lovelier than ever. Miguel, why did you let our guest get so hungry?" He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Miguel shrugged, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "She's the one who's late, not me."
Gabriela's lips parted, ready to protest, but she bit back her retort and smiled graciously at Mr. Jackson instead. "Thank you for having me," she said, her voice sweet.
As they took their seats next to each other, Cariah watched them with a sly smirk playing on her lips. With a snap of her fingers, she called out to the cook, "Serve Gabriela the best dishes we have!"
The cook hurried over, bearing a tray laden with steaming hot dishes. But as Miguel's eyes scanned the offerings, his expression darkened. "Wait," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll serve her myself."
The cook hesitated, but Cariah urged her on. "Yes, serve her the spicy chicken and the hot curry."
Miguel's grip on the tablecloth tightened. "No, I said I'll serve her," he repeated, his tone growing more insistent.
The cook seemed reluctant to back down, and Miguel's voice rose. "Why are you so keen on serving her? Did you poison the food or something?"
The room fell silent, with Mr. Jackson and Cariah exchanging startled glances. Gabriela placed a calming hand on Miguel's arm, but he shook it off, still glaring at the cook. "I know she's allergic to cayenne. Who knows if you've added it?"
Mr. Jackson intervened, his voice calm and authoritative. "Miguel, calm down. Please, let the maid leave."
The cook beat a hasty retreat, and Miguel's chest still heaved with anger. Cariah's smirk returned, and she said playfully,
"She's gone now. Go ahead, serve her."
"Miguel, have we been adding cayenne to our spicy chicken?" Mr. Jackson questioned with a rhetorical effect.
"Well, it's a new recipe I saw online. And Gabriela here is not safe. Everyone is jealous of her affluence. What if she's insisting to serve her because she has added cayenne to the dish? She could have gotten her allergy information online."
Mr. Jackson's voice rose in incredulity, "Why would our cook be trying to kill Gabriela? She's been working with us for months without a single mistake, let alone an attempt on anyone's life." Miguel's face reddened as he snapped back, "Then why was she insisting she served Gabriela?" The air was thick with tension as Gabriela tried to intervene, touching Miguel's hand to calm him down. However, he yanked his hand away, continuing to argue with his father.
Cariah sat quietly, her eyes fixed on the unfolding drama. Mr. Jackson's words dripped with frustration, "If your mom was still here, she could have taught you something about being secure." Gabriela and Cariah exchanged shocked glances. Miguel's anger boiled over, and he stormed out of the dining room, and upstairs slamming the door to his bedroom behind him.
Gabriela quickly followed, concern etched on her face. "Miguel, wait!" she called out, wondering what would happen next.
"Gabriela!" Cariah called out, and she retreated back to the dining, her eyes already up the stairs.
"Come sit and have your dinner. Check up on him later."
"Why?"
"For your own safety. When he's angry, he acts crazy." Gabriela feigned ignorance and still ran upstairs.
~~~~
"You should apologize."
Miguel was pissed and his eyes welled up with a mixed emotion.
"Apologize? To who?"
"The cook and your dad. Although, Mr. Jackson was wrong but you didn't have to yell like that."
"I agree that I lost control. Things were a little fishy when that cook insisted to serve you. But I won't apologize to her. We employed her and she should be apologizing to me instead." Gabriela sat next to him.
"That's not right, Miguel. She might be your chef but she's human. You shouldn't treat her like a slave. She's got feelings too, right? You shouldn't act that way towards your employees. It's very wrong."
Miguel fell silent.
"Are you going to apologize or I do it for you?"
"Do it for me." Gabriela chuckled.
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. Since you're good at it. I can't imagine myself saying sorry to the cook."
"Make it happen."
"You must be really hungry, Gabriela. You should go downstairs, eat the spicy chicken and then burn because you tasted cayenne. Then you'll know if the cook is right or wrong."
"It didn't have any cayenne, Miguel."
~~~
Gabriela entered the kitchen, her eyes fixed on the cook, who was alone, scrubbing the counter with a sponge. The scent of dish soap and cooking oil filled the air. Gabriela approached her calmly, not wanting to startle her. "Excuse me," she said softly, gaining the cook's attention.
The cook turned, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Gabriela continued, "I wanted to apologize on Miguel's behalf for yelling at you at the dining table. I want to clarify that I never asked him to do anything like that. His behavior was unacceptable, and I'm truly sorry."
The cook's expression softened, and she nodded graciously. "Thank you, Gabriela. But honestly, I wasn't even angry. I understand he was stressed about the situation." She added with a hint of a smile, "Besides, I've worked here long enough to know how the Jacksons operate."
Gabriela smiled back, relieved. "I'm glad you accepted my apology. I also wanted to ask, what's this about cayenne pepper? Miguel seemed to think..."
The cook chuckled. "Oh, no, I didn't add cayenne to the food. I only use it when we're preparing hot turkey sauce. I don't think anyone in this household likes spicy food otherwise."
Gabriela nodded understandingly. "That clears things up. Thank you for explaining."
Just then, Miguel walked into the kitchen, his eyes fixed on the cook. "I couldn't help but overhear everything. I'm deeply sorry for being angry unnecessarily and snapping at you. It won't happen again." The cook smiled and accepted his apology before leaving the kitchen.
As the cook departed, Gabriela turned to Miguel, her expression gentle but firm. "Time to apologize to your dad."
"Dad?? I never planned anything like that." He was startled.
"You're here to spend the night with my aunt and I not for an apology marathon."
"Can we please do just that? Plus, I'm sleepy."
"Okay, your Majesty. No apologies needed. For tonight. But tomorrow, I want you to apologize to him. Or else, you'll never see this again." Gabriela held up the pendant and his eyes widened.
"What? Have you lost your mind? Give that back."
"Not so fast." Gabriela ran out of the kitchen to the living room, then upstairs, dodging it at his slightest catch. She entered his bedroom and locked the door.
"Gabriela! Do not do anything to that pendant, okay?"
She didn't respond.
She was on the floor, giggling uncontrollably, her hands in the air triumphantly.
"Are you going to apologize or I never give you this again?"
"You wouldn't dare."
"Oh yeah? Since you're so egoistic, why don't I show you what I can do?" Miguel heard a loud rip from inside and he hit on the door hard in impatience.
"What's going on in there? What was that?" He was horrified, trying to believe it wasn't what he was thinking.
"Just a tank top I found a tag on. A tag of $700."
"That tank top?? Gabriela, have you....have you lost your fucking mind? How did you even....how did you even get that?" He recalled he had left a pair of scissors carelessly and he sighed sadly.
"Gabriela, don't do any more harm to my stuff. Can you come out now and we'll talk about it? Maybe, write an apology letter."
"No way. You'll have to apologize verbally. Pour out your emotions using words. That's what I want. That's what will please me. But not tonight. Tomorrow. Will you?"
Miguel exhaled.
"I will. Out now, Gaby." Gabriela opened for him and she laughed as he rushed in to see the torn top.
"Where is it?"
"I didn't tear any top, Miguel. It was just a piece of paper."
"A piece of..." Miguel snatched the paper and he shook with heartbreak.
Written on it were some of his mom's favorite things that Cariah talked about.
The things she wanted to get when Miguel was much older, but never got a chance to.
"This isn't just a piece of paper, Gabriela. You just tore an important detail."
"Really?" Gabriela felt hurt to see his expression.
His eyes welled up.
His dad was right.
If Hazel Jackson was with them, things would be much better.
"I'm...I'm sorry then..." Her hands shook reading some of the things on the paper.
She felt like she had made a terrible mistake.
The pendant fell from her hands to the ground.
Miguel plopped on the bed, biting his lower lip, fighting the tears in his eyes, trying not to burst out.
"I can write this again....right? I mean..." There was a patient door knock before the door flung open.
"What's going on here? I wanted to be sure if all was well."
"What's wrong, Miguel?"
"I...I accidentally tore...this...this..." Gabriela felt herself crumble.
She wanted to disappear.
She just hurt him and it was the biggest mistake she ever made.
She thought their friendship was over.
Cariah's eyes widened to see the paper.
"Oh my gosh. This meant a lot to him." Cariah sat next to him, her hand around his shoulder.
"Miguel, I know how...how sad you must feel that this happened."
Gabriela picked up the pendant and placed it on the shelf where she saw it.
"I had the pendant inside my bag when we were about coming downstairs for dinner. I only wanted to see how he would feel if I toyed with it a little. I'm extremely sorry."
"It's okay, Gabriela. Miguel, please speak. It's not good enough to be so silent. What's on your mind?"
"Can you both please give me space? I want to be alone." Gabriela's eyes widened and a sharp pain literally pierced her chest.
"Miguel, I..."
"Please leave." Cariah stood up and headed to the door. Gabriela followed, her steps lingering.
Michelle dozed on the couch, the TV's soft glow illuminating her peaceful face as the movie continued to play in the background. It was past bedtime, and the quiet atmosphere had lulled her into a light sleep. Suddenly, a loud, dramatic shout from the kitchen shattered the silence, jolting Michelle awake. She sat up with a start, her heart racing.
Panicked, she rushed toward the kitchen, her bare feet padding softly on the floor. As she entered, her eyes widened in horror. Damien stood by the counter, a knife in his hand, and blood trickling down his fingers. "Damien!" she exclaimed, rushing to him.
With a swift motion, she took the knife away from him and guided him to a chair, easing him into it. "Oh my god, what happened?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as worry washed over her. She quickly grabbed a clean towel and applied gentle pressure to the cut.
Without wasting a moment, Michelle ran to fetch the first aid kit. She returned swiftly, her hands moving efficiently as she cleaned and disinfected the wound. Damien watched her, a faint smile on his lips, seemingly unfazed by the pain.
"Doesn't it hurt?"
"Nope. Actually, I did this deliberately to see how you'd feel."
Michelle was shocked.
"Really? Are you crazy?"
"Yes. Call it craziness. I'm crazy about you." Saying this, Damien pressed his lips on hers and she tingled.