Chapter8
“Oh. night–Mom.” Dora said mid–meal. “I need the house document to get the transfer paperwork started ”
Chris blinked, only just realizing the issue. “Do you want me to go with
you?”
“No need. It won’t take long I’m meeting a friend afterward anyway ”
With Dora insisting. Chris didn’t push further.
After breakfast. Keith left for work, Dewey ran off to play with other kids in the neighborhood, and Chris went to a nearby craft workshop to do part–time work and help cover expenses.
That left Dora alone at home.
When she heard a knock at the door, she got up and opened the wooden inner door. Through the iron gate, she saw a familiar face grinning with that unmistakably cocky smirk. She lifted a brow and smiled lazily
“You’re early.” she said, unlocking the gate and letting him in
“Of course. The princess speaks, and I come flying over–didn’t even stop for breakfast Loyal enough for you?”
Erin Cain walked in, and Dora followed behind, giving him a quick tour of the place while explaining what she had in mind.
He pulled out a tape measure, moving room to room, measuring this and eyeballing that. After a few minutes, he turned to her and asked, “What’s the budget?”
Dora thought for a second. “7 thousand dollars.”
“7 thousand dollars?” Erin’s face scrunched like he’d just swallowed a lemon “Seriously? Your old mattress alone cost more than that, and now you want me to redo the entire place on the same budget?”
Dora leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her tone light. “If it were easy. I wouldn’t be asking the great Erin to do it.”
Compliments were rare coming from Dora, and Erin wasn’t about to waste the moment. He straightened up, adjusted the wrinkles on his shirt with mock seriousness, and grinned. “Of course. If I’m on the job, you’ve got nothing to worry about ”
Dora nodded along playfully “With you taking the lead. I’m totally at
case”
Once he finished measuring and taking notes, Erin had already started mapping out the layout in his head.
“Have some water.” Dora said offhandedly
He’d been there for over half an hour before she remembered to offer him a drink. After all, she’d never had to pour coffee or serve guests–being a rich heiress didn’t require such things.
Back in the living room, they sat down again. Erin closed his tablet, downed the glass of water in one go, then exhaled in relief and shot her a sly look.
“So, you’re really planning to stay here? Done with caviar and truffle risotto?”
Erin knew her too well. A child raised by the Hendrix family wasn’t the type to care about family bonds or blood ties. What mattered was value- benefit.
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So for her to come back and live with the Acosta family? It definitely wasn’t out of sentiment. No way she had a secret passion for charity work.
Dora gave a knowing smile. “Do you know why the Acosta family went bankrupt back then?”
Erin paused, thinking. “I vaguely remember hearing something… wasn’t it because Rhoda got into some kind of trouble with the Hendrix family’s second young master Matt’s girlfriend while working part–time? Then Matt retaliated and crushed the Acosta family?”
“More or less,” Dora said. That was the incident on the surface, but she knew better–Rhoda wasn’t the real reason everything fell apart.
Coming back to the Acosta family wasn’t just about going head–to–head with Matt Hendrix.
It was also because the report she’d read was too sterile, too clinical–just a bunch of facts on paper. She wanted to see for herself what it looked like when a family fell from grace.
‘Have they really accepted their downfall so calmly? So gracefully? Or are there deeper, messier emotions simmering beneath the surface?’ she wondered. Either way, it was going to be interesting.
As they chatted, a noise came from the front door. Both of them looked over just in time to see Alberto walking in.
“Dad? Weren’t you out on a ride?” Dora asked, surprised.
“I forgot to charge my phone. Just came back to grab the cable,” he said as his gaze fell on the boy sitting beside Dora. There was something familiar about him. “And this is…?”
Dora gave a casual introduction. “This is my friend, Erin. He’s in interior design. I mentioned him yesterday–asked him to come by and take a look
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at the layout.”
Erin instantly frowned at her choice of words. “In interior design” sounded a lot more dignified in his mind than “in renovations.” Three words, and she’d knocked him down several rungs in status.
Still, Erin stood up and greeted politely, “Nice to meet you. Dora asked me to redesign the room layout. Hope I’m not intruding.”
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