Steve stared at his phone for a few seconds, as if he wanted to make sure he hadn’t misread the caller's name.
Slowly, his expression brightened. A smile gradually formed on his face.
Helena was stunned as she watched him.
It was the first time she had ever seen Steve smile like that—not his usual smile.
Steve looked so happy just from a phone call.
"Hello, Violet?" Steve answered the call.
Violet? Helena wondered.
Steve raised a hand, signaling to Helena that he would step away for a moment.
Understanding the gesture, Helena nodded.
Steve walked away while Helena watched his back. Eventually, Dave caught her attention.
"Violet is Steve's girlfriend," Dave said while glancing at the porcelain mug in Helena’s hands.
"What?" Helena asked spontaneously.
"Violet is Steve’s girlfriend," Dave repeated, this time looking directly at her.
Helena fell silent, her brows furrowing.
Dave always had a way of unsettling her with his brief remarks and unpredictable actions.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, staring at him with irritation.
She felt uncomfortable. She hadn’t even asked, so why was Dave suddenly telling her this?
Instead of answering, Dave pointed at the mug in Helena’s hands.
Following his gesture, Helena looked down at the mug. She stared at it in silence.
At first, she was confused and wanted to ask him why. But as she noticed the violet flower design on the mug that Steve had given her, she froze.
Her grip on the mug unconsciously tightened.
She recalled what Steve had said earlier, what he had said with a smile while handing her the mug.
"Take it if you like it. I like the design too. The design is nice."
Of course, Dave noticed her reaction.
"Hey, you're going to break it," Dave’s words snapped Helena out of her thoughts.
She loosened her grip as if following his words—though it wasn’t like the mug would shatter in her hands. She wasn’t that strong, and the mug wasn’t as fragile as a plastic cup.
"Are you jealous?" Dave asked bluntly.
Helena instantly glared at him, a surge of anger bubbling up. Did Dave have to provoke her again?
For the first time, she let her anger show in front of him.
Dave’s words had truly hit a nerve.
She wanted to ask why he always managed to get under her skin, but she held her tongue.
Without saying a word, Helena walked past Dave and approached the shopping cart.
She placed the porcelain mug inside with a bit more force than necessary.
A loud clank sounded as it collided with the other groceries.
It was as if she didn’t care if Dave’s earlier warning about breaking the mug came true.
After placing it down, she walked away from the cart and disappeared behind the shelves.
Dave didn’t do anything except sigh.
"Where did Helen go?" Steve asked as he approached.
Dave glanced at him and replied, "She’s probably waiting outside in the parking lot."
Steve didn’t respond and simply started pushing the shopping cart toward the checkout.
Dave frowned at Steve’s demeanor.
Wasn’t his face glowing with happiness when he got that call from Violet? Then why did he look so gloomy now?
***
The car ride home was silent. No one spoke.
Steve didn’t even bother playing music like he had on the way there.
None of them showed any sign of cheerfulness.
It made sense for Helena, considering Dave had annoyed her. It also made sense for Dave, since he rarely smiled and always had a cold expression.
But for Steve, something seemed off. Both Helena and Dave noticed it.
Dave kept his eyes on the road ahead, while Helena stared out the window beside her.
Even though they sensed something was wrong with Steve, neither of them dared to ask.
Besides, after she argued with Dave, Helena felt like she had lost the confidence to talk to Steve.
It was as if that incident had built a wall, preventing her from stepping closer or hoping for more.
***
Helena sat in front of a blank canvas, brush in hand.
She lifted her hand, almost touching the canvas with the brush, but then stopped.
She pulled the brush away and lowered her hand again, staring at the canvas in silence.
She had done this over and over for the past few minutes.
She was in the studio that Mrs. Michelle had given her.
She had nearly finished her painting for the day, about ninety percent complete. But she couldn’t seem to finish the final details—something was holding her back.
What she was painting was the same subject as before when she had painted on Steve’s apartment balcony.
She was painting Steve.
But she couldn’t paint his face.
The lack of expression made the figure on the canvas look like a faceless person.
If she weren’t used to this kind of art, she might have been scared of her painting—it resembled a ghost without a face or one with a completely blank expression.
Finally, Helena sighed. She stood up from her chair and walked away from her unfinished painting.
As she locked the studio door, she remembered Steve’s expression when they had returned from shopping.
Steve had shown two unusual expressions today.
If he hadn’t worn that blank, stiff look earlier, she might have been able to finish her painting.
That had been her goal today—to capture Steve’s happy smile from before.
Walking through the corridor that connected the studio to the main house, Helena felt the afternoon sunlight casting over her.
She recalled how Steve had taken Dave to his office as soon as they got home and hadn’t come out—not even for lunch.
Their meals had been sent to the office instead.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Michelle had gone out at some point, leaving without her driver.
In the end, Helena had eaten lunch with five staff members while the homeowners were nowhere in sight.
Helena stopped in front of Steve’s office door, staring at it for a moment.
She blinked as an idea crossed her mind. Then, she quickly walked away, heading toward the kitchen.
---
A knock echoed at the office door.
Inside, Dave and Steve exchanged glances.
Steve was seated behind his desk, while Dave was lounging on the sofa in front of a low coffee table.
Dave paused his work, stood up, and opened the door.
He saw Emily, one of the older housekeepers, standing there with a tray holding a plate of apple pie.
"What is it?" Dave asked.
"I brought some snacks for you and Young Master Steve," Emily replied.
"Oh," Dave responded before stepping aside to let her in.
Emily placed the snacks on the table and excused herself.
Dave was the first to take a slice of the pie. He bit into it and started chewing.
His brows furrowed slightly at the taste.
"It doesn’t taste as good as usual," he commented.
Steve stood up, intending to try it himself, but before he could, a voice came from the open door.
"I know, I know. It’s not as good as Mrs. Michelle’s," Helena said as she entered, carrying a tray with cups and a porcelain teapot of tea.
Emily had left the office door open for a reason.
Dave was surprised to see Helena. He and Steve simply watched as she walked in and placed the tray on the table in front of Dave.
"You made this?" Steve asked once she was done.
Helena nodded. "It’s the first apple pie I’ve ever baked."
Dave looked at the slice in his hand.
Even though it wasn’t as good as Mrs. Michelle’s, he couldn’t deny that it tasted good—especially considering it was Helena’s first attempt.
For a first try, it was impressive enough to leave him speechless.
***