BENEATH THE CREST: A CHARTERHOUSE NOVEL

The opulent dining room of the Walton mansion in Hudson Yards gleamed under the soft glow of a crystal chandelier.

Polished silverware reflected the flickering candlelight as Jayden sat at the massive mahogany table, his parents at either end.

Ashtray, a frequent and somewhat irreverent guest, occupied a seat to Jayden's right. The air was thick with the hushed clinking of cutlery and the polite murmur of conversation.

"So, Jayden," his father, Mr. Walton, began, his voice smooth and authoritative, cutting through the quiet. "Cassia Blackwood. What is the deal with you two again?" His gaze was sharp, expectant.

Jayden kept his eyes on his plate, pushing a piece of perfectly seared steak around with his fork. "Nothing, Father. Cassia and I are not together." His tone was flat, dismissive.

Ashtray chuckled, spearing a roasted potato with gusto. "Yeah, Mr. Walton, those two are like oil and water. Explosive, but definitely not mixing." He winked at Jayden, earning a subtle glare in return.

His father's expression remained unchanged, a mask of polite disapproval. "Nevertheless, Jayden, connections within our social circle are paramount. The Blackwoods are… influential."

He paused, then continued, his tone brooking no argument. "I have already arranged a meeting for you. With Stephanie Michaelson."

Jayden's hand, which had been resting lightly on his fork, suddenly clenched. His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened.

Stephanie Michaelson. Daughter of the Michaelsons. Their corporation was a behemoth, their real estate holdings stretching across the nation. A strategic alliance through marriage had been a recurring, unspoken theme in his father's carefully orchestrated plans for Jayden's future.

"She is supposedly really smart," his father continued, oblivious to Jayden's internal turmoil. "You will dine with her next Wednesday. Eight o'clock. Dress appropriately, Jayden. And make her feel comfortable. The Michaelsons are… important."

Jayden's jaw tightened. He finally lifted his gaze, his blue eyes meeting his father's across the expanse of the table. A silent battle of wills passed between them, the weight of expectation and obligation pressing down on Jayden.

He said nothing, his silence a simmering rebellion against the future that was being so meticulously planned for him. Ashtray, who actually noticed the tension, was like, "Mrs. Walton, this asparagus is fire!" trying to lighten the mood.

Everyone went back to eating, but the vibe was totally awkward and Jayden was officially plotting his escape.

Later that evening, after the strained dinner, Jayden found Ashtray sprawled on one of the plush sofas in the game room, half-heartedly flipping through channels on the massive TV screen. The room, filled with expensive gadgets and a pool table that rarely saw use, usually offered Jayden a sense of escape. Tonight, however, the gilded cage felt particularly suffocating.

"Dude," Jayden began, his voice tight as he paced restlessly across the Persian rug, "did you hear what my dad pulled at dinner?"

Ashtray glanced up, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, the whole 'meet the real estate heiress' thing? Classic Walton." He tossed the remote onto the coffee table. "Rough, man."

"Rough is an understatement," Jayden retorted, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Stephanie Michaelson? Seriously? It's like my life is some kind of corporate merger waiting to happen."

"Well," Ashtray drawled, pushing himself up into a sitting position, "she's probably loaded. And you gotta admit, the Michaelsons throw some killer parties."

"That's not the point, Ash!" Jayden exploded, stopping his pacing. "It's not about the money or the parties. It's about… not having a say in my own life. It's always about what's 'important' for the Walton name, for the Walton empire."

He sank onto the edge of a leather armchair, the weight of his father's expectations pressing down on him.

Ashtray, surprisingly, dropped the sarcasm. He knew Jayden well enough to recognize the genuine frustration beneath the usual nonchalance. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"

Jayden stared at the intricate patterns in the rug, his jaw tight. "I don't know. What can I do? It's not like I can just tell my dad to shove it. Not without a major fallout."

A thought flickered in his mind, unbidden. Louisa. The memory of her quiet defiance, her determination to earn her own way, sparked a rebellious idea.

It was impulsive, probably stupid, but the suffocating weight of his father's plans made even the most reckless option seem appealing.

He looked up at Ashtray, a newfound glint in his blue eyes. "Actually… maybe I do have an idea."

A slow, almost mischievous smile spread across his face. "Wish me luck, Ash. Things might be about to get… interesting."

...

Friday evening arrived, carrying a weight of anticipation for Louisa. The week had been a blur of classes, the lingering awkwardness with Jayden (mostly him pointedly not looking her way now), and a gnawing anxiety about the job interview.

She'd replayed the conversation with Ms. Albright a hundred times in her head, picking apart every question and her corresponding answer.

Just as she was helping Ellie gather her books to head home, her phone buzzed in her pocket. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen. Her heart leaped.

She excused herself and stepped into the quiet hallway.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice barely a whisper.

"Ms. Wren? This is Ms. Albright from The Gilded Spoon." Ms. Albright's voice was as brisk and efficient as Louisa remembered.

"We've reviewed your application and your interview, and we'd like to offer you the part-time waitress position."

A wave of relief washed over Louisa, so intense it almost buckled her knees. "Oh my gosh! Really? Yes! Thank you so much!"

Ms. Albright outlined the schedule: after-school shifts until 10 PM on weekdays and longer shifts on weekends. It was demanding, but Louisa didn't care. She had a job. She had a way to earn her own money.

The next day which was Saturday, Louisa started her new routine. The Gilded Spoon was a whirlwind of activity, a stark contrast to the quiet hallways of Charterhouse.

Scarlett, already a seasoned waitress, was a patient and surprisingly funny mentor, guiding Louisa through the intricacies of taking orders, navigating the crowded floor, and dealing with the often demanding clientele.

Evenings became a cycle of balancing homework during brief lulls and rushing between tables, the scent of gourmet food clinging to her clothes.

Her feet ached, her brain felt overloaded with menu items and special requests, but with each dollar she earned, a sense of accomplishment grew.

It was Wednesday evening, five days into Louisa's new routine at The Gilded Spoon. The initial shock of the fast-paced environment had begun to subside, replaced by a weary but determined rhythm.

She expertly balanced trays laden with delicate dishes, her feet aching but her spirit buoyed by the steady accumulation of tips.

Just as a lull settled over the dinner rush, Ellie walked into The Gilded Spoon.

She looked fresh and relaxed, having spent the afternoon studying. She found a quiet booth in Scarlett's section and waved them over when they had a moment.

"Hey you two!" Ellie said, a warm smile on her face. "Just thought I'd come by and see my favorite waitresses in action."

Scarlett grinned, wiping down a table. "Hey! You're just in time for my break. What can I get for you, VIP?"

Ellie chuckled. "Surprise me. And put it on my tab."

Scarlett winked. "My treat. You've been holding down the fort while we've been slinging fancy food to fancy people." She headed towards the kitchen, leaving Louisa to clear a nearby table.

Later, during a brief pause, Scarlett brought Ellie a slice of rich chocolate cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. They sat together in the booth, catching up and laughing, a small pocket of their familiar friendship amidst the opulent surroundings.

As Ellie savored her cake, Louisa glanced towards the dessert display and saw a customer being served a scoop of pistachio ice cream.

The pale green color flashed in her mind, instantly conjuring the memory of the secluded cove and Jayden's unexpected gesture. The intimate way he had leaned in, his tongue tracing the smear of ice cream on her lip, sent a sudden, unexpected shiver down her spine.

She quickly looked away, focusing on Ellie and Scarlett, the warmth of their friendship a comforting anchor.

Despite her newfound independence and the tangible progress she was making, the ghost of that intense, confusing moment on the beach still had the power to momentarily derail her thoughts.

For Louisa, seeing her two best friends in this new context, supporting her in her endeavor, was a reminder of what truly mattered, a solid anchor in the increasingly complicated currents of her life.