Part 3Say Please Mr Montgomery

The next morning, Declan found me on the porch, carrying a massive woven basket overflowing with designer clothes.

""Coach. How much detergent?""

""Depends on the load size.""

""Half a basket.""

""One cap.""

""Can I wash the white linen shirts with the black denim?""

I peered into the basket. ""Only if your goal is to own a lot of gray linen shirts.""

Declan carefully picked the black jeans out of the pile.

""What's the difference between normal wash and delicates?""

""Are you always this full of questions?""

Declan didn't miss a beat. ""A good student is never afraid to ask.""

I pressed the 'Normal' button on the machine and walked away.

Over the next few days, he weaponized the concept of 'being a good student.'

Not enough hangers? He came to me.

Bed sheets wrinkled? He came to me.

Even when his drug-store shampoo didn't lather enough, he tracked me down to ask if the production crew had bought counterfeits.

I strongly suspected he was doing this on purpose, but I couldn't prove it.

At noon, the producers dropped our first major supply run task.

Between the three guests, the remaining budget was about $860. The director carved out forty dollars and tasked us with buying enough groceries to feed the house for three full days.

The moment we walked into the local supermarket, Sloane picked up a tiny plastic clamshell of artisanal white strawberries. ""Twenty dollars. That's perfect for a snack for the three of us.""

I gently took the plastic box from her hands and put it back. ""It's perfect. And after you eat them, you can enjoy starving for the next seventy-two hours.""

A few aisles over, Harrison was deeply analyzing the nutritional labels on two bags of rice. He held up a bag of imported Japanese short-grain that cost three times as much as the generic brand. ""The vacuum-seal technology on this packaging minimizes oxidation, preserving the integrity of the grain.""

I took that from him, too. ""We only need rice for three days. It won't have time to oxidize.""

By the end of the trip, I had a cart containing potatoes, onions, eggs, flour, and a heavily discounted family pack of beef chuck roast. The total came to $38.75.

With the remaining $1.25, I bought a bundle of slightly wilted scallions.

Sloane and Harrison stared at the two overflowing grocery bags as if I had just performed a magic trick.

Declan stood off to the side, his eyes dark and thoughtful as he watched me smooth out the long, printed receipt.

""Do you always calculate things down to the penny?"" he asked.

""If I didn't, I wouldn't make rent at the end of the month.""

""Have you lived like that for a long time?""

""I've lived much tighter than this.""

I folded the receipt into my ledger and let the conversation die. Declan didn't push. Instead, without a word, he reached down and picked up the heaviest grocery bag.

That night, a severe thunderstorm rolled in, knocking out the power to the farmhouse. The producers claimed it was a surprise test of our crisis-management skills.

Sloane panicked in the dark, frantically feeling for her phone. Harrison went for the toolkit, muttering about circuit diagrams.

I stopped them both, grabbed a heavy-duty flashlight, and headed out into the rain to check the breaker box on the side of the house.

The flagstones were slick with rain. I had barely taken three steps when a warm hand wrapped firmly around my wrist.

Declan materialized in the shadows behind me.

""I'm coming with you.""

""You don't need to.""

""It's slippery.""

""I can see.""

He didn't argue. He just slid his hand down, took the heavy flashlight from my grip, and stepped in front of me to light the path.

When we reached the metal breaker box, I opened the panel. Rows of identical black switches lined the inside.

I leaned in, squinting to read the faded labels, when Declan’s voice drifted over my shoulder.

""Isn't it the one on the far right?""

I froze.

He was pointing directly at the main breaker.

I slowly raised the beam of the flashlight, angling it to catch the sharp angles of his face in the dark. ""How did you know that?""

Declan’s eyes flicked to the switches, lingering for a heartbeat. ""Lucky guess.""

I reached out and flipped the main breaker. The farmhouse instantly blazed with light, followed by the muffled cheers of Sloane and Harrison from the living room.

Declan turned and started walking back.

I followed him, watching the broad line of his shoulders as he carefully kept the flashlight angled down so I could see the wet stones. For the first time, a nagging suspicion began to take root in the back of my mind.

Something about him wasn't adding up.