Chapter 5 - Jonathan Hawthorne Appears In The Quiet West Wing
Before Maya could reach the arched doorway leading back to the brilliant lights of the grand ballroom, another figure stepped out from the shadows of the cross-hallway.
Jonathan Hawthorne stood tall in his tailored tuxedo, holding a crystal tumbler of scotch as he frowned at the disruption in the hallway.
“Celeste? What’s going on back here? The donors are asking for you near the dessert display,” Jonathan called out, his voice smooth and authoritative.
Celeste turned away from the hidden wall alcove, her expression instantly shifting into one of graceful exhaustion as she greeted her husband.
“Just a clumsy domestic employee wandering where she shouldn't be, Jonathan; I was sending her back to the kitchens,” Celeste explained smoothly.
Maya stopped in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat as Jonathan’s stern gaze landed heavily upon her.
“Maya? I thought you were assigned to the champagne terrace tonight,” Jonathan said, narrowing his eyes in quiet suspicion.
“I was, Mr. Hawthorne, but I thought I heard a disturbance near the old heating ducts,” Maya lied, keeping her hands clasped tightly in front of her apron.
Jonathan took a slow sip of his scotch, his expression darkening as he recalled the strict privacy rules established for the estate.
“We discussed this weeks ago, Maya; the west wing is closed for structural renovations, and no staff members are permitted past this threshold,” Jonathan reminded her coldly.
“Yes, sir. I understand. I won't let it happen again,” Maya replied, lowering her gaze to avoid showing the fury boiling inside her chest.
Celeste walked over to her husband, slipping her arm through his tailored sleeve with an air of practiced intimacy.
“Let’s escort her back to the ballroom ourselves, darling; we don't want rumors spreading among the Greenwich elite tonight,” Celeste suggested sweetly.
Jonathan nodded, placing a heavy hand on Maya’s shoulder and steering her firmly toward the bright lights of the party.
May you like
Maya walked between them like a prisoner on death row, knowing that the police were less than five minutes away from the front gates.
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