Playing With A Billionaire Free Preview

It was Wednesday morning.

Emma had only just clocked-in. She placed her bag in her designated locker and began to take the orders of the customers, who were already in abundance for their morning coffee or pancakes and eggs or any breakfast meals of their choice from the menus provided.

She was about to deliver the orders to the kitchen when a pair of hands grabbed her by the arm.

"You have to work a double today. Tisha is sick. I need you to fill in." And he was gone right after his command.

Emma continued to the kitchen to drop off the customers' orders. Since Tisha was sick, she would have to take her place at the cash register and coffee machines. She was about to have another terrible day in hell but, obeying Carl's command, she worked the double shift without complaint.

On Thursday, the same thing happened-- working a double without getting anything extra for filling in. And the same thing happened on Friday.

~~

Emma was drained, but it was finally Saturday, and it was her day off. She decided to visit a library and take several books to the park for a read. It was the beginning of summer, and she needed the fresh air.

She had just stepped out of her narrow bathroom when her cheap phone, which still had raised keys and couldn't connect to WiFi, rang.

"Emma, I need you to come in right now. Be here in less than twenty minutes!"

Before she could object he had hung up. She had really hoped for some free time to herself, and apart from that, she was exhausted, but she had to comply. How would she afford her crap apartment if she was jobless?

She took her precious time getting ready and arrived an hour later than Carl demanded she be there. He was furious with her and yelled at her as soon as she clocked in.

"I told your malnourished ass to be here in less than twenty minutes!"

Indeed Emma Cole appeared very skinny due to all the over-sized clothes she wore. Without even giving him a glance, she went to the customers to take their orders.

When she was making coffee for an angry, beer belly guy at the front of the line, who was yelling at her and calling her names, she lost her temper and threw the entire cup of coffee in his face. He had called her an incapable, handicapped, low-budget paying maid, who wouldn't even get extra if she shook it at a strip club because she looked like the hobbit in Lord of the Rings.

She had never been so humiliated. Yes, she had it rough in high school but it had gotten a little better at college because everyone there seemed much more mature than the bullies at high school. Now, this grown man was yelling at her because his coffee was ten minutes late. It wasn't even her fault. She was supposed to be off today. Had he kept his mouth shut, she wouldn't have splashed the coffee all over his chubby, beard-covered face.

Carl appeared just as the man was about to throw a table back at Emma. "Hey hey hey, what's going on here?"

"That incompetent waitress of yours just threw a damn cup of hot coffee in my face, man!"

"Sir, please calm down and put the table down. I'll handle this," Carl instructed. "Emma! You're fired!"

"What, you don't even want to hear what I have to say? He embarrassed me and..."

Carl cut her off, "Get your things and get out. I can't have you throwing coffee in people's faces and still have you working here. GET OUT, EMMA!!"

Emma threw her apron to the ground, took her bag out of the locker and walked out. "I hated it here anyway," she said as she passed Carl and the impatient customers on the way out.

~~

Emma's POV

I buried my head on my stale pillows when I got home, hitting them with my hands from my anger as the tears came.

I've been fired, what am I going to do now?

I somehow managed to gather myself and my emotions. It was still early.

"There's still time to go to the library and then the park," I said to myself as I got off the bed.

I changed into something skimpier, still concealing my entire figure underneath. I was insecure about my body and ashamed of the scars it possessed.

I started on my heel and headed to the library then the park. I was sitting on the bench reading Counting Raindrops Through A Stained Glass Window, when an old lady with platinum blonde hair sat down beside me.

"Hello dear," she greeted, kindly.

For an old woman by herself in the park, she wore very expensive jewelry. I could tell just by looking at it.

"Hello ma'am," I greeted back with a small smile. I continued with my book as she opened a newspaper.

Twenty minutes into reading, two men in black tuxedos approached our bench. They resembled characters in Men In Black-- not a smile on their faces as they took long strides toward us.

I panicked. I was easily frightened.

The elder woman stood up and extended her arms to them. They held onto her, supporting her to help her stand on her own two feet. They left without another word. Suddenly, I noticed she had forgotten her newspaper. I took it and ran in their direction.

"Excuse me, ma'am!" I called, getting a little closer, but was cutoff by one of the bodyguards.

"Can I help you miss?" he asked firmly, with a tone that made me regret running after them.

"I'm sorry, the... lady forgot ...her newspaper." I was out of breath. Damn, I needed to exercise more.

"Why don't you keep it and educate yourself? Maybe then you'll find out who 'the lady' is, so you can address her by her name next time."

His response was rude but encouraging. I walked back to the bench and watched as the black SUV drove away with her inside. I looked at the page she was reading to the left side of the article it stated: "Personal Assistant wanted at Hollen Tower. Terms and conditions apply."

And, of course, terms and conditions meant college education, knowledge about the job's responsibilities, punctual, fluent in English, impeccable character, previous work experience, related employment history, and more. I had applied for so many jobs like this before but gotten turned down once they looked at me-- like I wasn't human. I wasn't like them.

I wasn't like them, actually. I didn't own a house or a car or have expensive clothes and shoes, or have the ability to wine and dine at restaurants, but I was a human being too!

I was a plain and simple one. I lived in a cheap apartment, wore beat-up clothes that were stained and crumpled; I ate scraps left in the kitchen at Carl's Cafe after breakfast, lunch and dinner were served. After my rent was paid I usually had money for my essential needs, like feminine products and canned foods that didn't spoil in a hurry-- since I didn't own a refrigerator.

I was at rock bottom, but I'd accepted it and learned how to be satisfied with the little I had and could afford. I found comfort in reading books. I loved reading about the poor girls who found princes and billionaires who swept them off their feet, got married and lived happily ever after like Cinderella. I kept on wishing something like that would happen to me, but they were only books; they were fiction. In this modern world princes and billionaires didn't go for poor girls like me. They dated models and designers, and women with the looks, body, and beauty who could fit into their lifestyle. Who would want someone like me?

I got on my feet and left the park before it got too dark out. I was afraid of walking the streets at night.

I arrived at my apartment three hours later. I sat on a hard, uncomfortable chair as I read through the newspaper's articles one more time. Something at the back of my mind told me that I should give it one more shot, but something else just wanted me to give up.

"Look at your life, Emma, you got fired today. You're jobless, the rent would be due at the end of the month or else out on the street you go. You don't have anyone who could take you in and care about you. You have to try to get another job," said one side.

"Emma, just give up. You're not going to get a job at Hollen Tower. It's too grand for your taste. They'll do what they always do, take one look at you and turn their faces. Just give up, you'll be evicted, so what? You wouldn't be the first to get evicted and live on the streets. Why not join a gang?" said the other.

I was frustrated. I looked at my life and cried myself to sleep.

I knew when the clock struck seven the next morning I would be out of this shack and on my way to Hollen Tower. I needed to try just one more time.

This time I will make bigger efforts in my appearance to land the job. I will get the job, just watch.

Emma's POV

I woke before my alarm. I wanted to wake up early so I could iron my clothes and look extra sharp. I looked through my suitcase underneath the tiny bed. I pulled out a black skirt that dropped below my knees, along with a white shirt with black buttons down the middle. I placed them on the bed and hurried downstairs to the laundry mart to borrow the iron since I didn't own one. Mrs. Lee, who worked in the laundry rooms, always lent it to me whenever I asked her.

I ironed my clothes carefully then hung it up above the bed. I combed out my thick, curly black hair that dropped right at my shoulder, which I always dreaded. I had broken countless combs and brushes due to this uncontrollable hair of mine.

When I was finished, I opened a tin of sausage and a packet of bread rolls and made myself a cup of tea. Once I was through eating the alarm on my phone went off. I smiled at myself, knowing that time was in my favor today. It was 6:45 a.m. when I left the apartment. I took the seven o' clock bus, which carried me for an hour-and-a-half further down New York.

I was finally standing in front of Hollen Tower when I got off the bus. The building was a huge skyscraper with an exterior of gold glass. I entered through the main entrance and walked up to the front desk receptionist. She was a slim, blonde woman with flawless makeup who was dressed sharply in a formal, women's business suit. She wore a warm smile on her face as I approached.

"Good morning ma'am. I'm Emma Cole. I'm here for an interview," I said in the best manner I possibly could.

"Good morning, Miss Cole. Interviews are being held on the fifteenth floor. This way to the elevator."

I had never been in one before nor did I wanted to be in one by myself. I panicked as the doors slide open. I walked in and thank her with a nod, too scared to speak up. The elevator started beeping and I almost jumped out of my skin when the door opened again and another woman came in. She wore a badge that read:

Linda Steele

Chief Operating Officer

Hollen Tower

"Good morning," I greeted and she gave a warm smile, similar to the receptionist.

"Good morning, what floor are you going to?"

"Fifteenth."

She pressed the digits that were lit, there was a swoosh movement, and I knew we were going up. I felt dizzy. I held onto the bar as I concentrated on not screaming to get out and take the stairs instead.

"We're here," she said, snapping me out of my regrets.

"Thank you," I managed to reply as we stepped out together.

There was another receptionist as I stepped onto the floor. "May I help you?" she greeted.

Ms. Steele had already gone in another direction.

"Yes, I'm Emma Cole. I'm here for an interview for the personal assistant position."

She looked at me from head-to-toe.

Oh no, I thought, she's already doing what everyone else has done!

I became so uncomfortable from her impolite stare. Her look made me look at myself too. I wanted to ask if there was something on me.

"Um, please have a seat over there. We'll call you when the boss is ready."

"Thank you."

I went to the waiting area and almost broke into tears when I saw six beautiful women also waiting. I assumed they were here for the same reason I was, and I was a ragamuffin compared to these perfectly groomed, well-dressed ladies; even though what I was wearing were the best professional pieces I owned.

"Miss. Lorly," the receptionist called.

One of the ladies got up and followed her through as huge glass door.

I was the last to be called. I looked at my phone; it was 11:00. I had been waiting for two hours. Nevertheless, I followed her through the same glass door when she finally called my name. She knocked, opened the door, ushered me inside and left.

I stood in a huge office with a welcoming scent and feel to it. The walls were painted in different shades of brown and there was a huge leather couch on the side. There were plants in large pots which added a forest-like green vibe to the room. The cool air calmed my nerves as I took it all in. I inhaled with satisfaction. Everything was amazing. It was so better than my apartment.

I could live here. I just need a bed, I thought to myself.

"When you're finish admiring my office, and wasting our time, you may have a seat," a voice said firmly, erasing my pondering on making this my home.

"Good morning sir, I'm Emm.... "

"Have a seat Miss. Cole." His voice was like ice-- cold but clear.

I sat down and looked at him. He was very handsome with grey, almond eyes, a pointed nose, perfectly structured face, and small lips. His hair was pitch black and styled neatly on his head. His shoulders curved from his sharp suit, and his stubble beard was neatly trimmed on his face. He was the definition of 'perfectly handsome'.

"Miss. Cole, are you hard of hearing?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you for your resume twice already."

What is wrong with me? I was so lost in his looks that I didn't even hear him asking for my resume.

I handed it to him with trembling fingers.

He yanked it away and read through it.

"You've only worked at a cafe?" he asked shortly after.

"Yes, sir." I lowered my head; I had already failed.

"You had impressively good grades in high school, how is it that you only went to community college?"

"Because I couldn't afford a prestige college, sir. I've been on my own since I was eighteen, right after high school. I still wanted a college education, so a teacher made a contact for me to get into a college I could afford."

"Where were your parents?"

"I don't know of them."

"So you grew up in a foster home?"

"Yes, sir. Foster homes," I corrected.

He rubbed his temple. "Miss Cole, I feel your pain, but I wouldn't waste my time and yours. The position had already been filled."

My heart fell to my toes. I wanted to beg for anything else available so I began to but he cut me off and told me he was sorry.

"Sir, please. I don't care if I have to clean the toilets or the floors or the windows. Please, I need a job so badly. I don't have any money to support myself. I will get evicted soon if I don't pay my rent. Is there anything you can do for me? I'm desperate."

I was in tears but he just handed me back my documents and, in the process of taking it back, I accidentally spilled his cup of coffee all over his desk.

"What the fu--!" he hollered as he flew from his seat and ran his hands down his crotch.

"Oh my goodness. I'm so sorry," I let out as I walked over to him, not thinking twice.

"Get away from me!" He was furious.

I froze. I saw the cup laying on the floor and a coffee maker in the corner. "I'll make you another cup," I said quickly.

I rushed over to the coffee machine as he took tissues from a cupboard and attempted to clean himself up. I wiped down his desk from the ugly spill and placed a refill cup of cappuccino in front of him.

"Why are you still here? Get out of my office!" he yelled at me again. "You clumsy imbecile."

I held back the tears of shame and embarrassment. I held my bag close to me and turned on my heels. When I opened the door I heard him take a sip of the coffee I made, then another and another. As I was shutting his door, he called out, "Miss Cole, please, wait."

Standing against the door I barely reentered the office for fear of going near him.

"Miss Cole, this coffee taste so good. You have gifted hands. I apologize for my outburst. It was an accident, and I shouldn't have snapped like that."

"That's okay, I'm used to it."

His eyes twinkled a bit, but they seemed to have some sadness in them. "The job you applied for has already been filled, but I have a proposition for you. How would you like to be my maid and my coffee maker? The payment would be generous and you can live with me."

I was puzzled. "I don't understand... Live with you? In your house?"

"My mansion."

My brain was bouncing off the walls in my head. My heart felt like butterflies. Ethan Hollen, CEO and manager of Hollen Tower, wanted me, simple little plain me, to live in his mansion?

"Of course you wouldn't be alone; I do have other household staff, and they all live with me. There's a place for them, and you, if you accept this offer."

I smiled my biggest smile and thanked him for the new offer. I was going to live on his property-- for free? "Do I have to pay rent?" I asked as the thought crossed my mind.

"No. How soon can you start?"

"First thing tomorrow morning."

"Good, six a.m. it is. I like having my coffee early."

Six, I groaned, mentally.

Emma's POV

Six o'clock my ass! I had to be at his place at six, which basically meant that I would have to leave home at 5:00 a.m., which basically meant I would have to be awake by 4:00 a.m. or earlier. So I rested for the remainder of the afternoon. Moving away from this place wouldn't be difficult; I owned a small amount of clothing and supplies. I set the alarm on my phone before I forgot, then began reading a romance novel.

My phone rang and I looked at the number. It was unknown but I answered anyway.

"Miss Cole, I need you."

I couldn't believed what I was hearing. "Mr. Hollen?" I asked to make certain this wasn't a joke.

"Yes."

"But I told you I will start in the morning."

"Do you want the job Miss Cole or not? Because if you're no longer interested I can easily find a replacement with a snap of my fingers."

"I'll be there," I blurted. I leaped out of bed and headed for the shower. "I cannot afford to lose this job before I even start," I told myself as the water washed over me.

I was out of my apartment by 6:30 p.m. He had instructed me to meet him at his office, and he'd take me to the mansion since I had no idea how to find it on my own. I met him in the private parking lot outside of the building and followed him to a black Lamborghini.

"You drive your own car?" I asked as I got in the passenger side.

"I'm capable," he answered shortly.

I kept my mouth shut for the remainder of the ride, and he was quiet and attentive to the road.

We arrived at a pair of golden gates that opened automatically and revealed the most beautiful mansion my eyes had ever seen. My mouth opened wide with awe and amazement.

He parked the car and I slowly opened the door and got out. I followed him through the entrance and into the living room. I had to stop to take it all in. I wasn't expecting all this beauty. There was a huge chandelier in the middle of the foyer, and I wondered, if a light went out, how tall of a ladder one would need to fix it. Luxury furniture, rugs, and paintings decorated the rooms I could see. Mr. Hollen had expensive taste, yet the homey scent was so soothing.

"Halley!" he called as he left through another door.

Who's Halley? I wondered. Is he married? Does he have kids?' I knew nothing about his personal life, but here I was, already crushing on him. You need to stop it , you pent up virgin! I commanded myself.

A young woman around my age appeared with him.

"This is Emma Cole. She's a new maid and my personal coffee maker," he introduced then left.

She looked at him wide-eyed as he went on his way, as if she couldn't wrap her head around what he had just said, then looked at me and glared as if I had taken something away from her.

"Hello, I'm Emma," I greeted, trying to break the silence.

"I know, he said that," she responded rudely.

"Well, um, can you show me where I can make his coffee?" I asked, hoping she would be nicer.

"Follow me." She turned on her heels and I followed suit.

"Ah, he finally brought some more help?" an older woman asked as we entered the kitchen. She was a fit woman with a beige complexion and low flowing blonde hair with light brown eyes like mine.

"This is Emma, maid and coffee maker."

By the way she said it I sensed she wasn't happy about me being there or preparing coffee for Mr. Hollen, or something along those lines because she had no idea who I was. We'd never met before, so what the hell was her problem?

"Hello Emma, I'm Agnes. I do the cooking and cleaning. Halley, here, assists with the cooking and cleaning as well since this place is so big. It's nice to meet you."

Agnes was much more welcoming than Halley.

"It's nice to meet you too, Miss Agnes."

She smiled sweetly. "Just call me Agnes or Aggie," she laughed.

I nodded.

Halley snapped her fingers in my face, "Stop dreaming. The coffee machine is right over there. Get to it."

I walked over and prepared a cup of coffee for Mr. Hollen. I was happy I knew what I was doing instead of having to ask Halley for help. At least Carl's Cafe gave me experience on a few things in the kitchen.

I had no idea what to do when I was finished.

Should I bring it up to his room? No, that's his personal space. Should I call him down? What? No, I'm not his wife. Should I wait? What if it gets too cold? I shouldn't have made the coffee until he told me so, but that's what he hired me for-- coffee.

I sighed with relief as the door opened and he entered. He came right over, took the coffee then left.

I went over to Agnes. "How did he know I was finished?" I whispered.

She pointed to the ceiling where there was a camera rotating at a three-sixty angle. He could see everything that was going on.

"Wow," was all I said.

A red light started blinking and the phone rang.

"Someone get that," said Agnes; she had her hands in a flour mixture.

"I'll get it," Halley insisted and rushed over to the phone, but before she could answer the call stopped. She ran out of the kitchen.

"Is she always this eager?" I asked once she left.

"Mr. Hollen doesn't like slackers, and he doesn't like to repeat himself; so, when he speaks you better listen, and don't interrupt," she warned. "He fired the previous maid before Halley because she turned away when he was talking to her."

"How long has Halley been working here?"

"Oh, just over eight months."

"And you?"

"Ten years. I was chef to his parents."

I wanted to know more about him, and Agnes had been around long enough to know a lot about him, but I didn't want to give the wrong impression on my first day. I would know in due time.

"Emma, you're wanted in the office," Halley let out sharply when she came back.

"Where's the office?"

"Halley, show her to the office. You know its her first day here," Agnes instructed.

She led me up a flight of stairs then turned left on the second floor. She pointed to the sign on the door which read: "The Office". Her point indicated that I should look the next time I was needed there, or anywhere really. She went back downstairs as I knocked.

"Come," he commanded.

He was sitting at a desk, on his computer with reading glasses on. He looked so intelligent.

"Yes, sir?"

"Emma, whenever you are to make my coffee, I will instruct you when to so and where to bring it. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Hollen."

"Also, you're staying the night."

I had seen the servants' quarters when we'd pulled up. It was along the right side of the mansion-- a nice, warm place, like a big cottage, with separate rooms and personal spaces. I couldn't wait to see the inside.

"Help Halley prepare a guest bedroom for you downstairs," he continued.

I was taken aback. I would be staying inside the mansion? In a guest bedroom?

Emma's POV

Why were the other maids in the staff house, and I would be in the guest room? It was what I wanted to ask him but didn't. I took the coffee cup and headed back to the kitchen where I found Halley mopping the floor where flour had spilled.

"Um, Halley," I began. She made me uncomfortable, like a tiger ready to pounce and attack at any minute.

She looked over to me, mop still in hand. "What?"

"Mr. Hollen instructed that we should prepare a guest room downstairs."

"He's having visitors again, Aggie?" she asked her, turning from me.

"Not that I know of."

"Actually, it's for me," I let out.

Both women looked at me with awe.

"Mr. Hollen is having you sleep in a guest room?" Halley asked, dropping the mop.

I nodded.

She looked up at Agnes before Mr. Hollen appeared in the kitchen.

"Halley, what's the hold up?" he demanded.

"Nothing," she replied quickly and took my hand in hers, leading me out of the kitchen.

We walked straight ahead passed the living room, dinning room, a room with a huge pool table and colorful curtains, and another room that was all white. We arrived at four doors.

"Pick one," she said softly.

I chose the last one.

We entered and started dusting and tidying up. We made the bed and changed the pillow cases. She left then returned with a broom, mop, a bucket of water, and cleaning products. We cleaned the floors and reachable spots. When we had completed everything, I helped her carry the supplies back to the storage room.

"How long have you been screwing him?" she asked when we were back inside the guest room, making sure everything was perfect.

"What are you talking about?" Was she crazy? I was a virgin in every way. I'd never even had a hug from a guy.

"Mr. Hollen never lets the help sleep in the mansion, unless she's screwing him like the previous maid."

"I'm not screwing him, Halley. I don't know why he's allowing me to sleep here."

"And you didn't ask?"

"No, I didn't."

She shook her head and glared at me with a smirk. I had had it with her and her attitude.

It was only my first day and she was acting as if we had been enemies since preschool. As if I had broken her favorite doll's neck, so she grew up hating me for it.

"Thanks for the help," I said, but she just turned on her heels and left.

I picked up the remote to the air conditioning unit and pressed the red button-- its always the red button. Cool air circulated the room. I was enjoying it when a knock came at the door. I opened it and Mr. Hollen walked in. He looked around like a health inspector. I was nervous just watching him.

"Have Agnes tell you what you need to do tomorrow. Have my coffee ready at 6:00 a.m, and no later than that. Also, write down your previous address." He handed me a notepad and a pen.

I wrote it down and handed it back to him.

He left.

The guest room was much better than my entire apartment and much bigger too. My own luxury bathroom and toilet were adjoined, a queen-sized bed, a dressing table, walk-in closet, chandelier and air conditioning unit. I looked around in admiration. Everything appeared to be new and clean until I looked down at myself. I was still in a rag.

*

*

*

"There just has to be more to it," I heard Halley say as I entered the kitchen. She was at the sink washing dishes.

Agnes had her face turned toward the oven.

"Can I help with anything?" I asked.

"Emma, go enjoy your room," Halley teased.

"Halley!" Agnes scolded.

The red buzzer went off.

Halley dried her hands and picked up the receiver. "Yes, Mr. Hollen? Yes."

"Agnes, Mr. Hollen has a company coming over, so he wants dinner to be ready in less than an hour," she said as she put the receiver back on the hook.

Agnes seemed to have gotten busier instantly. She moved like a jet, cutting and dicing, seasoning and tasting, here and there. I wanted to help but she insisted she'd do it on her own. I just looked on, picking up on a few things she was doing.

Halley looked at her watch. "Agnes, you have less than ten minutes."

"Okay girls, help me put these on two plates."

We followed instruction.

The door burst open. Mr. Hollen walked in dressed in a fresh suit. His hair still wet from his shower, causing it to shine more. He looked so yummy.

"Agnes, where's the food?"

"Right here, sir."

"Serve it in the wing, my fiancee had already arrived."

He is engaged?! I hollered inside then sighed. Of course. Who wouldn't want to marry him?

"Yes, sir." She put the plates on a tray and disappeared through the door; he followed after her.

Halley studied my face. "Oh, you didn't know he was getting married?" she asked with a laugh.

I felt something hurting inside, but I didn't show it. I couldn't show it. I just smiled at Halley.

There was a board in the kitchen that acted like a time keeper. It told what time we could finish work. You didn't dare leave or finish until it said so. After a bit of time the board read: "Dismissed". At the signal, Halley dashed out toward the servants' quarters and I walked back to the guest room, still hurt.

Why am I feeling like this? What's going on with me? I chastised.

I gathered myself as I fell into one of the softest beds I had ever had in my life, yet the feeling was so uncomfortable.

Emma's POV

I woke up at 5:30 the next morning. I brushed my teeth then combed my thick hair before heading to the kitchen to make his highness's coffee.

The clock struck 6:00 and the telephone rang. He instructed me to bring the coffee up to his bedroom on the top floor. I walked, carefully, with the coffee on a tray so it wouldn't spill over from the exhausting journey I had to take up the stairs. His bedroom door was slightly open.

I pushed through and called for him. "Mr. Hollen, I brought your coffee!"

Silence.

"Mr. Hollen?" I called again.

He appeared from the area I assumed was the bathroom with a red bath towel wrapped around his waist, and another drying his wet hair. His chest screamed come lick me. The lush V-line carved out his six pack perfectly. I couldn't help admiring him. Everything moved in a slow motion then the stupid coffee just had to fall over onto the floor.

"What the actual fuck, Emma!"

"I'm... ah... so... rry," I was lost in words as I dropped to pick up the broken pieces. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hol--"

"Get a damn broom, and don't use your hands. Are you crazy?"

The tears came. Suddenly, someone else appeared behind him and held his waist.

"Where do you get these incompetent maids? She can't even serve a cup of coffee," the woman said with an upturned face. She was slender and wrapped in a bath towel also.

She has to be his fiancee, I assumed.

"Get the cleaning products and clean this shit up, Emma!" he ordered.

I got up, turned on my heels and ran downstairs to the storeroom. My eyes were stinging with tears, but I quickly wiped them away. I had to be professional not a child. I couldn't cry because of one accident. It was an accident.

I went back to his room and cleaned the spill.

"Oh, and when you're finished, come and change the sheets and lay fresh ones," the lady instructed me, as if she was the one who hired me.

"Yes ma'am," I replied.

She turned to Mr. Hollen and gave him a passionate kiss, like I wasn't even there. My heart twisted in my chest, squeezing the blood away.

I shouldn't be feeling this way, I reminded myself. He would never look at someone like me.

His fiancee looked like a supermodel with her olive skin, while I was a light caramel. He was way out of my league.

I wiped the tears from my over-sized glasses.

__________

I made my breakfast and waited for Agnes and Halley to come in.

"Good morning, Emma. Well, today is the day that the real work begins. Mr. Hollen instructed me last night to let you know how we do things around here," Agnes said as she moved to make her breakfast. "Every maid has her own room and should keep it tidy at all times. He doesn't invade our personal space, but we must remember this isn't our house. It's his. Mr. Hollen has us assigned for special things. For instance, I'm the chef and in charge of the kitchen. If anything goes wrong with his food, it's my behind the grill. Halley is responsible for the cleaning and tidying, and you're assigned to his coffee and assisting Halley with the cleaning. We each have a role to play, but we're a team and must act as such.

"You work a 6:00 a.m to 2:00 p.m shift. You're off on weekends, and get a half day once a week. Under no circumstances do you clean his study unless he tells you to do so." She was flowing as if she'd been saying this all her life.

"I understand."

"Did he get his coffee?"

"No, I spilled it in his room." A single tear started to fall.

"Well serve up another cup."

I began to remake the coffee.

He entered the kitchen, dressed in a sharp black suit with a light blue shirt.

"Good morning, sir," Agnes greeted.

"Morning, Aggie."

"Here's your breakfast."

"My apologies, I should have informed you that I'm going out for breakfast with Sharon."

"That's alright."

He looked at the fresh cup of coffee I'd made but ignored it and just walked out, leaving his manly scent in the kitchen to taunt me.

I went about my duties that day with Halley by my side. She was still rude just tolerating me because she had to. I dusted, mopped, swept, shined and varnished furniture and picture frames. I changed the sheets and laid fresh ones; Halley did the laundry and folding while showing me how to use his high tech washers and dryers.

"It's easy once you get use to it," was the only nice thing she said to me.

Soon, it was lunchtime. Agnes prepared lunch for us. We ate in the kitchen, not the dinning room. Her cooking skills were amazing.

"That was delicious," I complimented.

"Agnes, can I do the shopping today? There isn't much to do," said Halley.

Agnes looked grateful. "Thanks dear, let Luis take you."

"Who's Luis?" I asked, wondering if there was someone else around the house.

"He's one of Mr. Hollen's personal drivers," Halley answered as she took a paper that was pinned on the fridge. Agnes handed Halley a card and she skipped cheerfully through the kitchen door.

Agnes laughed.

_______________

The next morning I woke up and prepared his coffee again. The kitchen phone rang just as I finished. "Bring it up to my room," he ordered. "And don't spill it again."

I walked carefully up the stairs then entered his room. I rest the tray down successfully on one of his nightstands. He appeared in a white vest and pants.

As I was walking out the door, I suddenly felt coffee spat all over my back.

"EMMA! What the hell? Are you trying to kill me?!" His tongue was hanging out of his mouth and he was coughing profusely.

"What's wrong?"

"Taste... this!"

I tasted the coffee and spat it out too. The damn thing was salty-- pure salt, like someone had poured a pound of salt into it. I was baffled. How could this happen?

"Mr. Hollen, I don't understand. I did what I always do when I make coffee."

"Get... this... away from me, before I lose... my... mind!"

"I'm sorry, I'll sort this out."

I took the cup away and hurried back to the kitchen, racking my brain for the answers as to what could have caused the coffee to become a salt mine. I tasted the coffee beans; they were fine. I tasted the water I'd used, salt free. I checked the sugar jar to make sure it was sugar and not salt. It was sugar. I was lost. What the hell happened to the coffee? I remade a cup for myself, tasted it and spat it out too. Then it dawned on me that there was salt in the milk.