Just A Glimpse

It didn’t take long for the cleaning the mansion to become a daily job. This allowed Jasmine the opportunity to catch up on bills and create a savings while working around her college schedule and catching up with assignments. Not seeing him for the last few weeks Elijah helped make the job easier.

Jasmine had been in the mansion for hours, moving from room to room. Sweeping, dusting the fancy decor, organizing books, and wiping down marble countertops. The house was vast, and each space seemed meticulously designed. Gleaming surfaces, delicate ornaments, polished furniture; all gleaming with wealth that ordinary people could only dream of.

It made her feel small, insignificant, though she was careful not to let her thoughts stray too far into envy. She had her own goals, her own dreams. And as much as the luxury of this place fascinated her, it was the steady stream of income that had brought her here.

Yet, as she worked in the massive living room, carefully polishing an old mahogany cabinet, her thoughts kept circling back to Elijah. The man who had startled her the first time she was here with his unexpected touch. She thought about him every time that she cleaned this room.

She tried to ignore it, to push the brief moment to the back of her mind. After all, it had been nothing more than a mistake, right? He was soon to be married someone else, his fiancée, Clara. He was engaged and committed to another woman. And she was a struggling college student working odd jobs to make ends meet.

She couldn't afford to entertain thoughts like these. Not in a place like this, not with a man like him. He was avoiding her anyway. It was for the best.

And yet, as the day wore on, the memory between them seemed charged, even when they were in different locations, living separate lives. Jasmine felt it. A strange magnetism that was hard to ignore. She anticipated an occasional appearance each time the Butler opened the door.

Jasmine had finished dusting the foyer and was now in the formal dining room, setting everything in its place for what she presumed would be a grand dinner. The massive chandelier overhead cast a soft glow over the long, oval table, while a sparkling silver centerpiece adorned its center. Jasmine was carefully positioning the delicate wine glasses when she heard footsteps approaching.

Turning toward the sound, she saw him again. Elijah. His dark hair was neatly styled, and the crisp blue shirt he wore fit him perfectly, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. He looked different this time.

His shoulders were tense, his posture rigid, as though the weight of the world was pressing down on him. His eyes met hers, and for a split second, there it was again. The brief flicker, the undeniable chemistry that hummed between them.

She swallowed hard and quickly looked away. "I hope I'm not getting in the way," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She couldn’t afford to make this awkward. She was just here to clean.

“No, not at all.” Elijah replied quickly, his voice a little sharper than usual. He seemed to clear his throat, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “I just wanted to check on how things are going. Clara’s not here yet, so I thought I’d take care of a few things before the evening starts.”

He looked around the room with a hint of unease, his eyes scanning the polished surfaces, “Everything looks great so far.”

Jasmine nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The brief charged silence between them felt thick with unspoken words. It wasn’t just her cleaning that had Elijah distracted, it was something else.

Something between them.

She kept her hands busy, focusing on straightening the silverware in front of her, even though her fingers felt stiff and uncooperative.

“I’m glad it’s coming together,” she said, managing a soft smile, trying to keep things professional.

There was a pause, a beat of silence. Elijah’s eyes flickered to her hands as she worked, watching her for a moment longer than was comfortable. Jasmine’s pulse quickened as a shiver ran down her spine. She couldn’t quite read his expression. Whether he was concerned with the event, distracted by something else, or if something deeper was playing out in the space between them.

“Thank you for doing all of this,” he said, his tone warmer now. “It means a lot to Clara... and to me. She’s been under so much stress lately with the wedding preparations and is never here.. And I… well, I’ve been doing everything I can to stay away and keep my mind off of you, but it's never enough.” He let out a small, tired sigh, though it didn’t seem like he found anything tiresome about it.

“I can imagine she needs all the help she can get.” Jasmine replied quietly, glancing up at him briefly and ignoring his last comment.

There was something almost vulnerable about the way he spoke, an openness that surprised her. She viewed Elijah in a light of perfection, the polished man of wealth and status. But he seemed to falter, just for a moment, as he stood before her. It was a fleeting glimpse, but it made her feel as though she were seeing the real Elijah for the first time. Someone who wasn’t just the handsome fiancé of a wealthy woman, but a man who was struggling in his own way.

The air between them seemed to grow thick again, laden with a tension that neither of them seemed able to fully acknowledge. Jasmine focused her attention on the table, not trusting herself to meet his gaze.

“I’m sure Clara will appreciate everything when it’s all over, is there anything you need?” she said, her voice a little quieter than before.

"You." Elijah murmured, then fell silent for a few moments.

His gaze lingered on her, but Jasmine refused to look up, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the silverware. She couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t afford to fall into whatever this… game was. He was engaged. And she was just the help, someone who’d come here for a paycheck. Nothing more. She was sure that now, he was just toying with her. There was no way he would choose her over a sophisticated woman.

Still, the pull was undeniable. She could feel it in the way his eyes flickered toward her, the brief, heated look they shared. She knew she couldn’t entertain it. She knew she had to keep her distance.

“I should let you finish up,” Elijah said, breaking the silence. His voice was quieter now, softer. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot left to do.”

Jasmine didn’t respond right away, not trusting herself to speak without betraying how rattled she felt. She could hear the door to the office creak shut moments later, but the strange electricity between them lingered, hanging in the air long after he was gone.

Jasmine forced herself to breathe deeply, her heart still pounding in her chest. What was wrong with her? Why was this affecting her so much? She’d met plenty of attractive men before, men who were charming, kind, and maybe even a little mysterious, but Elijah… there was something different about him.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. Stop it, Jasmine. He’s engaged.

She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Wiping the table with more force than necessary, as if she could scrub away the tension in the air. But no matter how hard she worked, the thought of Elijah; his touch, his eyes… kept slipping into her mind. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much, but it did. She knew she had no place to entertain thoughts like that. No place at all.

After finishing the table, Jasmine moved on to the kitchen, hoping to lose herself in the work. But as she scrubbed the counter, her thoughts kept drifting back to that brief moment. His grip around her waist, the heat of it, the way his fingers had lingered a fraction of a second longer than they should have. The way his eyes had met hers.

She pushed the thought away again, but still it looped back.

She finished the kitchen in a blur, her hands working mechanically as she fought to push the distracting feelings aside. She didn’t look at the clock. Didn’t look for Elijah. She just kept cleaning, each movement an effort to forget.

It was only when the front door opened again with the sound of a woman’s voice calling out from the hallway, that Jasmine realized how late it had gotten. She stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth, and froze when she saw the woman standing in the doorway.

"Hello, I’m Clara," the woman said, her smile radiant but her tone cool as her gaze slid briefly over Jasmine. “You must be the cleaner. I hope you’re almost done. The dinner party is about to arrive. And that hideous car needs to be removed.”

Jasmine nodded quickly, swallowing her nerves. "I just finished. Everything is ready."

Clara gave her a polite smile, though it was clear she wasn’t particularly interested in making small talk. Jasmine knew she should leave, but something… something about the look in Clara’s eyes, the way she held herself made her hesitate. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was a sense of... ownership there, an invisible boundary that Jasmine instinctively understood.

She nodded, slipping past Clara as she grabbed her bag.

And as she passed Clara in the hallway, she couldn't help but glance over her shoulder, catching a final glimpse of Elijah. His gaze flickered to hers, just for a second, and there it was again. The subtle spark between them.

But it was gone just as quickly, swallowed up by the reality of the situation. Jasmine shook her head. This was just a job. But as she walked out the door, her heart was still pounding.