Page 19 of Even Beneath the Stars

"Maggie, welcome! Come on in."

She ushers me through the arched doorway into what she refers to asThe Offices—the hub where the estate’s staff keep the whole Rockwell machine running.

We settle in her office for an hour, going over logistics, expectations, and my general survival guide for the Rockwell Estate. Finn’s out with Rita so we can talk uninterrupted.

As Denise walks me through the intricate web of staff members and their roles, I'm struck by how much she juggles. It's like watching someone conduct an orchestra—every section needs to play their part perfectly for the whole thing to work.

"And Mrs. Rockwell?" I ask carefully. "How often is she home?"

Denise's expression remains neutral, professional. "Jacee’s schedule is unpredictable. I manage her travel, but she makes last-minute changes. The priority is maintaining Finn’s routine, no matter who’s here."

The subtext is clear:Don’t expect much parental involvement.

We cover security, house protocols, emergency contacts—an avalanche of details that make my head spin. Through it all, Denise maintains a calm, capable demeanor that somehow makes this surreal situation feel manageable.

Next is staff introductions. Housekeepers, maintenance, grounds crew. Four full-time chefs. One of whom works through the night because God forbid a Rockwell should have to fix their own pizza pocket, I guess.

Then comes the grand tour. And honestly? The place isn’t even a mansion, it’s a small country with central heating.

The biggest reveal? Barron and Jacee live in theirown separate wing. Which is kind of my first insight into the true extent of the divide between the Rockwell parents and their sons.

I don’t get to see it. I don’t meet them. Jacee’s jet-setting lifestyle means she’s rarely home, and Barron—despite beingtechnicallyhere—is apparently just as elusive. He has an office in the 'East Wing', where I gather he spends a lot of his time.

Even the parts of the house Idosee are overwhelming. And while the exterior was clearly built to impress and intimidate, the interior was designed to make you full-oncower. Possibly gag a little, too. Because if there’s one underlying theme, it’sexcess. Marble, chandeliers, arches, gold… So. Much.Gold.

I keep bracing for the inevitable first encounter with Xavier in my official capacity as a member of his family's staff. But we barely even run into any other staff, let alone real live Rockwell family members. Honestly, it doesn't look like anyone lives in this place—even in the areas where Denise tells me the boys spend most of their time. The gaudy Vegas-style Smoking Room—scene ofthatparty—is spotless. No sign of breakfast dishes, let alone a bender.

I do spot a large Carhartt hoodie draped over one of the plush shell-shaped couches in the sitting area off the kitchen, and a couple of neon green guitar pics on the Volvo-sized coffee table. But that's it. The only crumb-size evidence that any people live here.

The tour continues. Another playroom (because ofcoursethere’s more than one). Finn’s pirate ship-themed bedroom (Duke Nathaniel would approve). A large, lavish but comfy-looking seating area upstairs by the boys’ rooms, complete with wall-sized tv, and finally…finally—traces of life. A few brightly coloured Paw Patrol books scattered along one corner of the oversized U-shaped couch, a colorful Lego castle spread out on the massive coffee table, and a half-full bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on one arm of the couch. There are also two empty bottles of Heineken on a side table, and a guitar lying on the section of couch closest to it.

Huh. I guess Xavier plays guitar. Which… yeah, I guess I can sort of picture. He looks like a guitar player. If that's even a thing—to look like a certain kind of instrument player.

And finally—my room.

Whoa.

More 'Vegas penthouse' than 'nanny’s quarters'.And oh my God, asoaker tub.

Denise motions to a closed wooden door across the hall. "And Xavier’s room is right here."

I swallow, really aware now, after touring his home, how much I am totally infringing into Xavier's personal space by taking this job.

No.I cut that thought off at the root. That's part of my job. I'm gettingpaidto live here. And Xavier's used to it—having nannies and cooks and various full-time staff live in his home, sharing the halls and flitting about the zillions of rooms. He can't resent me for that.

Right?

Denise knocks lightly. "Xavier, hon? You in there?"

Silence.

She glances at her phone. "Could still be sleeping." Another knock.

It hits me then—maybe therewasa party last night. With this many staff, they could have cleaned it up by morning. God, this world is so weird. The Rockwell boys live like modern-day princes. No responsibilities. No consequences. Not a care in the world.

Still no answer.

Good. I’m not ready to face him yet. Give me a couple more hours to acclimate to my lavish new reality, then I’ll be all set.

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