ONE.

1931.

When she heard that the richest family of the State was looking for a maid, Rose instantly sent her resume through the job agency. It was good pay, the best she could find in these desperate times. She's had a few jobs here and there in the past couple of months but nothing she could stand long enough. But now, she was a few months behind with the rent and she knew that her roommate wouldn't let her live there forever if she couldn't pay her part. Not that she would feel comfortable about it too. He may be her best friend but Jack wasn't making that much money working at the mill. With the depression, it was prudent to find one good job and stick to it. Working at the textile mill wasn't exactly Jack Dawson's dream job but people weren't buying art a lot these days so drawing became a simple hobby. Another job he had was to make sure Rose wasn't out there doing something stupid. When she had insisted to move out with him to California, he had promised her mother he'd look after her knowing Rose was pretty good at getting herself into the worst of situations.

Jack and Rose knew each other since they were kids when his family moved next to the house next to hers. Rose was five years old, Jack seven. They soon became the best of friends and spent all of their time together. They were as close as brother and sister. They grew up together and nothing could ever change their bond, it was knitted too close. Only when his parents died, Jack decided he wanted to leave his hometown and Rose tagged along, refusing to let her best friend go away without her. She couldn't stay thousands of miles away from him, she simply couldn't. It had taken a lot of arguments for her mother to let her follow Jack across the country but they finally agreed that Jack would look out for her and that she'd be sent home if she behaved like a child. For the most part, Rose had been responsible and Jack had nothing to say about her behavior.

When he left for work on Tuesday morning, he wished her good luck for her interview that afternoon and that he'd be back around six thirty, as usual. She looked at him from the mattress on the middle of the living room and smiled sleepily. The apartment was small, a living room, a kitchen and a tiny bathroom was all they could afford. Rose slept on a mattress on the floor and Jack on the couch next to her. It wasn't much but they were happy and contented. The rent was cheap compared to those on the other side of town. Jack didn't mind walking thirty minutes each way to get to and from work and if it was raining, he tossed a couple of coins together and took the bus. Ruth was sending her daughter a small allowance each month which she used to buy groceries. Ruth didn't have a lot of money either. When Rose's father had passed away a long while ago, she was left in terrible debt and barely made it out. She was working as a seamstress for 430$ a year and almost half of that went to her daughter. The house had been secured for her as the mortgage was paid in full when her husband's died but the rest had to go. Rose had been eight years old then. Rose never complained about their situation, she even seemed to like this life better even though she missed her father very much. If surrounded by the right people, Rose was happy anywhere. That's why she had followed Jack out west.

At one o'clock on the dot, she was before the gate in front of the Hockley estate. A man in uniform opened the door for her and brought her to the side door where she was invited in by a black woman who introduced herself as Dorothy. She was the cook and has worked in the Hockley family for more than 30 years. And then another woman entered the room. From her looks, Rose reasoned she was the lady of the house. Her blonde hair was in an up-do, her clothes were freshly pressed and looked expensive. She wore diamonds and smelled like honeysuckle and watermelon. She was beautiful.

"You must be Rose," she began, her voice a perfect match to her appearance. "The agency told me you'd be here at one thirty. I can see you are a punctual one."

"Yes, madam," Rose answered with a sweet smile.

"I am Eleanor Hockley," she introduced herself. "Follow me, we'll go into the den for the interview. Dorothy, would you make some tea?"

The cook began her task and Rose followed the other woman. She secretly marveled at the house. It was huge and magnificent. There were beautiful canvas and the mahogany furniture brought a sweet smell in every room. It all looked so rich. Once they were in the den, the woman closed the door and invited Rose to sit as she did the same. As she looked around, Rose realized this was a man's space. The smell of cigar and aftershave filling the air. There was no picture whatsoever in the room so she had no idea what Mr. Hockley looked like. The only thing she knew was that he was working in the Steel industry but most importantly, at the top of it.

"Well, Rose... What made you apply for this position?" the blonde asked.

"I think it is a good opportunity for me to gain some work experience and I think this position offers me what I'm looking for."

"What would that be?"

"Stability," Rose replied. "And help me develop useful skills."

"Have you done this before?"

"In all honesty, no. But I've helped a friend back home whose father's running a hotel so I know the basics."

"I see," she said, raising an eyebrow disdainfully. "And where is home?"

"Wisconsin, madam," Rose answered and saw the disgust in the woman's eyes.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

She asked more questions and Rose answered each and every one of them truthfully even though she knew she had blown it from the very beginning. She was too young, too inexperienced and too rural for that high society lady. At least she had tried, didn't she?

"I'll talk to my husband about you and I'll let the agency know if you get the job or not. They can contact you then," Eleanor concluded.

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Hockley, I am most grateful," Rose said and made her way out.

There was no way she'd ever get the job.


When Jack walked home from work, he could smell spaghetti sauce from the corner of the street. The smell reminded him his mother and his childhood. He missed his folks terribly but moving to California had helped a little. He walked into the apartment and was surprised when he saw Rose at the stove.

"Hey there!" she exclaimed. "I'm making us some spaghetti."

"I figured. Smells good."

"How was your day?" she asked.

"Okay, I guess. The same. How was your interview?"

"Great. I got the job," Rose lied, a smile plastered on her face.

"Really? That's amazing! I'm so proud of you, I knew you could do it."

She could not disappoint him again by saying she failed for yet another interview. She would find a job soon. She would go back to the agency in the morning and insist on having the dumbest and easiest job if that's all they could offer her. She didn't mind. She couldn't let this go on and put Jack in trouble because they couldn't pay rent. Jack would send her back to Wisconsin and she'd have to work with her mother as a seamstress and it was the last thing she wanted. She didn't want to go back to her hometown, as a matter of fact she wanted to stay as far away from it as she could. There was nothing there.

"When do you start?" Jack asked as he took two plates out of the cupboard.

"Next Monday," she replied, filling the plates.

"I'm really happy for you, kiddo," he said, ruffling her hair.

"Ugh, you idiot!" Rose exclaimed with a laugh, pushing his hand away.


"Why wouldn't she do?" her husband asked.

"She is inexperienced, Cal," Eleanor replied.

"So what? Everybody has got to start somewhere, Eleanor. If she's eighteen years old, it's the perfect age. I say you hire her and if she isn't efficient then you terminate her employment."

"You haven't seen her, darling."

"The help doesn't need to look pretty and anyway, no one could be as beautiful as you," he said before kissing her cheek lightly.

At 32 years old, Caledon Hockley was the richest man in California. After acquiring his father's business, the Steel tycoon had invested a good part of his money into real estate, buying apartment buildings and small businesses around Santa Monica. When the Crash of 1929 struck, his investments in stocks were lost but most of his fortune remained untouched. The real estate he had bought a couple of years prior saved him a good deal of money.

Caledon had married Eleanor Hawkins in the summer of 1926. He was twenty-seven years old, she was twenty-five. They had met at a charity ball in the summer of 1925 and Eleanor's father insisted she married the young man. It wasn't an arranged marriage but it wasn't a love marriage either, just what seemed to be a little bit of both. Eleanor had tender affection for Cal and Cal thought she was breathtaking. She was the perfect woman to have at his arm at galas and parties, other men were jealous of him when they saw what Mrs. Hockley looked like. She obeyed every time he asked something, her urge to please his every command rapidly became rather pathetic. They had learned recently that she couldn't bear any children, which destroyed his expectations of one day having an heir. Suddenly, she became less pretty and less desirable.

Before marrying Eleanor, Cal had girls waiting in line. Most of them were a one-time thing, others remained a few weeks but there were no strings attached with any of them. Once he married, nothing had really changed except that now he had to be discreet about it so his wife wouldn't know. It was easy to lie since she believed every word that escaped his mouth as if God himself had said it. He would meet with different women each week, his room at the Casa Del Mar always on hold. As dull as Eleanor was, it would be too much to ask of him to be satisfied with the intimacy he shared with her. She was boring in bed and having sex with him didn't seem to be a pleasant thing for her to do. Too bad others didn't share that opinion. Maybe even that maid she would hire would gladly go to bed with him.

"Darling?" he heard Eleanor's voice say from the doorway of his den.

"Yes?" he said, not bothering to look up at her.

"I called the agency and told them we'd give the girl a try. I'm going to bed now. Goodnight," she said softly and Cal looked up at her.

"Goodnight, Ellie," he said with a small smile.

He listened as she walked upstairs and he heard the room to her door being shut. He walked to the bar and served himself a glass of whiskey. With the prohibition going on, he avoided drinking when Eleanor could see him and since they wouldn't be doing anything else tonight, she wouldn't smell the liquor on his breath. He worked until one in the morning then finally went up to his room. He lay on the bed, still wearing his clothes, and fell asleep in a matter of seconds. Sleep never came easily but whiskey was always helping.


The next day when she went job hunting at the agency, Rose was told that she was given the job at the Hockley's. She was really surprised at first and the lady told her that it was a try out to see if she'd be a good choice. It came as a relief to know she had the job after all and that the lie she told Jack the night before wasn't really a lie anymore. She knew she would prove herself worthy of the position. She was to start on Monday and had to be on duty at exactly eight in the morning. The rest of the day would last until she was done with all the chores required of her.

That night, Jack took her out at the movies and they drank Coca-Colas on their way back to their apartment. They stayed up until the wee hours of the morning and Rose fell asleep in the middle of his story. Jack took her hand in his and kissed it. He sighed deeply and again, pushed aside the strange feeling in his stomach. Rose was getting prettier every day, it seemed, and maybe friendship wasn't the only thing he felt for her anymore.