𝑀𝐴𝐺𝑀𝐴 | 𝐉𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

𝟐𝟓 | 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑

・𝐉𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄・

𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 one thing Jaime couldn't complain about his job, it was the view—it was absolutely gorgeous.

And when the minutes were passing by a little too slowly, he liked to play a game. It was called 'Pretend like I'm rich and this is the view from my home.'

Okay, fine, maybe it wasn't exactly a game. Maybe it was more like a fantasy. And, yes, unrealistic, too. But after all the hard work he did, he figured the very least he could reward himself with was some imagination.

Right now, he was playing his game. He gazed out at the peaceful river, with his sunglasses blocking out the sharp rays of the sun. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and his posture was the straightest it could be. He really did feel like a rich man.

"Excuse me, Mr. Reyes?" called Milagro mockingly. And when he took his sunglasses off and turned to look at her, she dropped the sugary voice and waved the scraper at him. "You finish scraping the gum off that lounger or what?"

His head rolled back and he groaned. Game over.

"This is bullshit," he muttered as he walked back to her.

"Wow," she scoffed as he knelt on the other side of the coffee table. "'Thanks, Milagro, for hooking me up with this gig.'"

He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the other scraper from the table and bent down to peer underneath.

"It's not my fault your future didn't turn out the way you wanted."

"How am I supposed to get experience when nobody's gonna give me a job?" he complained as he scraped off the pink bubblegum.

"Sounds like a 'you' problem."

He watched in disbelief as her hand appeared and stuck another piece of gum to the bottom of the table.

He straightened up, giving her an incredulous look. "Seriously?"

"What? I'm keeping us employed, you noob!"

His attention turned toward the house as a woman appeared, busied by a phone call and with a bodyguard trailing a few steps behind. Though she wore big sunglasses that took up half her face, Jaime knew exactly who it was.

"Hey." Jaime tapped Milagro, and she turned. "Check it out. There goes Victoria Kord."

"Look at that walk," Milagro breathed out in awe. "She's kinda sexy in like a . . . Cruella-Kardashian sorta way."

As Victoria reached the door, she shifted to face their direction.

Hardly thinking, Jaime muttered, "I'm gonna say hi."

"What? No—"

Jaime sprung to his feet, lifting a hand in the air as he greeted, "Good afternoon, ma'am!"

His heart sank as she turned and entered the house. Not even an acknowledging smile? Really?

"We're invisible to people like that, Jaime. It's like our superpower." Milagro stood up and folded her arms. "Okay. Back to work."

Reluctantly, Jaime got down to his knees and began to scrape beneath the table. He gave a warning look to Milagro to not put any more gum, and it seemed she got the message as she raised her hands in defence and walked over to Isla.

He looked back at the glass doors once more before sticking his head beneath the table. Most days, working here was manageable. He always avoided thinking about the fact that he worked his ass off for four years for no reason, and about how gross half of the jobs he did were.