There was always something between with Rafe and I. We didn't realise what we could be, but we didn't know what was coming at us.

I was a pogue, meanwhile Rafe? He was a kook, the ones who usually had two mansions on figure eight, huge boats, yachts.

No matter how much time I've spent working for the kooks, many of them still despised me. For example, Rafe Cameron. I worked for his father, Ward Cameron, and the results? I had become closer to his daughters, Sarah Cameron and Wheezie Cameron.

When it came to Rafe, he'd always look like a stone cold statue with no hint of life. Barely lively, just those bold blue eyes blinking once at me before exiting.

Feelings could be disguised, but how could one's feelings make someone act so terrible to them?

I didn't know the point of the job, it was just regular cleaning. The tiniest things to do, yet I still got paid quite a lot. Maybe it was just pity, or trying to stop the poverty of pogues.

The kooks thought of us as filth.

The silence deafening, my quiet footsteps pressed against the rich floors of Tanneyhill. I never knew why Ward Cameron hired me, I was just there.?

Handling the housekeeping job, putting the few dishes back into the cabinets, I heard a creek behind me. Jumping in surprise, I dropped a dish shattering it into tiny porcelain pieces. Cursing, as I scrambled to look for the broom.

As I held the broom, I glanced over behind me. Rafe. He was just standing there, his piercing eyes looked into mine. "You know all that noise is going to make my father fire you, right?"

"It's not like he wanted me here anyway," I told Rafe, rolling my eyes. I've always been a sarcastic person. Stubborn too, but that's not the point.

Raising his brows at me, his blue eyes scanning me. "He doesn't."

"But I do.”

I didn't understand, we hated each other. At least that's what his actions made me think. Asking quietly, "What does that mean?"

"It means I wanted my father to hire you," Rafe spilled out, finally telling his true feelings. "I told him to hire you.”