"Right, so," began Brent, "You will stay in the guest house across the courtyard, it's fully furnished and if you have any prized valuables that you haven't already packed, you need to let me know now." When Maisie simply shook her head as an answer, Brent began again, "We will leave here at 8:15 every morning and my chef has breakfast ready for me by 8 every morning and if you ever feel like not eating it you need to make sure you let me know ahead of time so I can let him know, the same goes for every meal. I have a maid that cleans every Saturday, so don't be alarmed if you see somebody walking around your house. Any questions?" Once again, feeling overwhelmed by the abundance of information she was just given, Maisie shook her head. "Well, great, then, I guess. Dinner is at 6:30, I expect to see you then. Go and explore your new house," Brent said, waving his hand in the direction of the home.

Maisie walked at a brisk pace along the flower-lined sidewalk to the front door of the house. Thankful to be out of the harsh New York November winds, she quickly shut the door behind her. As she turned to look at her surroundings, she took in a sharp breath. Everything was so extravagant, and the house seemed far too large for one person, it almost didn't even seem fair to her. The kitchen looked like it was meant for an entire family of five and she was certain that she'd never have enough people over to fill up all the empty seats in the living room. Walking through the foyer she passed the office, dining room, kitchen, and living room to find herself facing the first bedroom. This entire house contained four bedrooms and a bonus room, each of them looking as uninhabited as the next. Her toughest decision that day seemed to be choosing which room she'd like to sleep in. She took her bags from the front of the house and led them up the stairs to the room she had finally picked (it had the biggest window, a total win). As Maisie made her rounds through the house once more, she wondered why there was even a need for a guest house. Brent's home was plenty big for whatever guests actually wanted to visit him. Speaking of which, he didn't seem much like the type to invite people over to stay the night, quite frankly, if he didn't have to keep up with appearances, he could very comfortably live in a one bedroom apartment. Maisie finally found herself seated on the sectional sofa, waiting for the clock to hit 6:28 so that she could walk over there, not really wanting to be a minute early. Though, Brent did seem to have decided to not mention the chain of events that took place earlier. And although she was very eager to learn more about him, she still wanted to keep her distance until she figured him out a bit more.

....

Halfway through dinner Brent finally decided to break the silence answer the question that had been plaguing Maisie's mind all day, "You know, I'm not still mad at you from earlier. There's no point in me holding a grudge, my mom isn't going to let you go that easily. Staying mad will only give me gray hairs, and girls never go home with guys who have gray hair when they're only in their mid-twenties." Masie timidly looked up, relieved when she saw the playful smile that sat on his handsome face. "You know," Masie started, carefully thinking about her next choice of words, "I think you're actually a nice person, just deep down. Like, really really deep down." "Oh yeah? What makes you think that?" "Well, maybe it's just because you were brought up right, but I've noticed that you seem to have quite the arsenal of great manners. Well, other than your very occasional outbursts of inexplicable anger." "On the contrary, Maisie, they happen to be very explicable outburst of anger. People do stupid things and I get mad. It's quite simple, really." "Brent, there's a difference between getting mad at people for honest mistakes and screaming at people until they're in tears or, you know, throwing a vase against a wall." "There really isn't a difference, the final result is that I get mad at them, rightfully so, thank you very much." "Well, I guess that's what I'm here for, to help you realize that there is a big difference in how you handle things versus how you should handle things. Goodnight, Brent, I'll see you at 8 for breakfast, I suppose." "Night, Maisie, see you then."

Brent never let any girl get to his head, he was never into relationships and couldn't find the time of day to deal with any girl for more than one night- and not even necessarily in a romantic type of way. And yet Maisie Cooper was hustling her way through his life and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. He was the most powerful man he knew and yet he felt practically defenseless against a soft spoken girl who had no sense of authority.

....

Maisie always promised herself that she'd never let any boy keep her up at night, but she accidentally broke that promise tonight. It was hard not to think about the entire situation. She had big plans to open up her own practice as a psychiatrist and just when it seemed like she was finally going to get exactly what she wanted, the mother to the richest man in America called her and practically begged her for help, Maisie wouldn't have even said no to the poorest family in America, it just wasn't in her nature to let others suffer. Truthfully, she didn't see him improving in the near future, but she had great hopes for farther down the road. She then grabbed a notebook and pen and began to write down notes from the day as well as the start to a list of things she noticed made Brent angry, no matter how big or small. The amount of determination set inside her to help this man was enough for an entire town to live off of. Brent Hollier may be the richest man in terms of money in the bank and possessions he owned but he was still the poorest man Maisie had ever laid eyes on.