Sea Breeze 01 - Breathe

the bedrooms. It was easy to forget whose house I cleaned. I had no friends to tell about the job. And the fact that I stood in the rooms where the hottest teen star in the world would be sleeping all summer wasn’t really so big of a deal.
    I stepped into Jax’s bedroom and spun around. This wasn’t a typical celebrity’s room. It seemed so old-fashioned, and it struck me as odd. I had to take a closer look.
    One wall displayed bats and balls autographed by different players while some just looked well used. Jerseys he must have worn during childhood hung on the walls proudly. I could easily picture the little boy I’d seen in the portraits wearing these and playing Little League just like an ordinary kid. I went in for a closer inspection of the team pictures hanging under each of the jerseys. In the earliest ones, I struggled to figure out which little boy was the now famous rock star. After he appeared to be ten or eleven, I identified him easily. The jerseys and pictures were in year order from about kindergarten until age thirteen, and then they stopped. A year or so later was when I remembered first hearing his name on the radio. He seemed to have led a normal life up until the time a record label discovered him.
    The wall space above his bed set the room apart from an ordinary teenage boy’s room. Guitars of every shape, size, and color hung on the walls. Many were autographed; some sparkled with newness. One appeared to have real gold on it, which wouldn’t be surprising at all. I got on my toes and examined it more closely. It said FENDER on it. I continued examining the signatures on the more expensive guitars. I ran my finger over the name Jon Bon Jovi and smiled. Apparently, even rock stars have idols. In the center of them all hung a small worn guitar. The fact that it hung in the center of this collection made it obvious this must have been the first and most loved.
    I peeked back at the open door to make sure no one was outside, then went to stand under the small guitar I imagined had started it all. I wasn’t a crazy fan, but seeing something responsible for spurring a dream seemed almost holy in a way.
    My cleaning cart sat untouched in the doorway, and I knew I needed to get busy. I didn’t want to learn new, personal things about him. I wanted him to stay shallow and untouchable in my eyes. Knowing he once was a cute little boy with dark brown curls and a smile that would one day cause a frenzy made him seem more real and not so godlike. I needed to keep my interest in him to a minimum. I quickly went about the room dusting and sweeping, and then I mopped the expensive hardwood floors. I decided I’d better get through with this room quickly before I came across anything else too personal. I focused my thoughts on my future and blocked out all thoughts of Jax Stone.
    “Sadie, are you finished yet? The family has arrived, and we need to exit to the servants’ quarters,” Fran said from the doorway.
    I walked out into the hallway, where a very nervous Fran stood, and placed my cleaning supplies back on the cart. “Sure, just finished up.”
    Fran nodded and headed toward the back elevator, in which house staff traveled from floor to floor without being seen by the family. Fran hurried inside as it opened, and I started to follow when a bottle of glass cleaner fell off the cart and spilled a little. I reached for a small rag and picked the bottle up from the floor. I wiped up the spill the best I could.
    “Hurry, please,” Fran called in an anxious tone from inside the elevator. The family must have been headed upstairs.
    As I started pushing my cart toward the elevator, a tingling sensation raised the hairs on my neck. Startled, I turned and saw him standing there watching me. It wasn’t the cute little curly headed boy, but instead the famous rock star. I froze, unsure of what to do since my presence here becoming known this soon wasn’t something Ms. Mary wanted. A smile broke across his ridiculously sexy face, and heat burned through my cheeks as I glanced away and entered the elevator.
    He didn’t appear to be angry that a teenage girl worked in his home. His smile seemed more amused. Fran frowned when I glanced at her, but she said nothing. I put my cart away and went to report to the kitchen. Ms. Mary stood with her hands on her hips, waiting on our arrival. A silent conversation seemed to take place between Fran and Ms. Mary. After Ms. Mary nodded, she reached for something