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Chapter 8

  • MEREDITH:
  • My new boss was a thorn in the flesh, which I couldn't wait to pick out once my debt was completed. Who would have thought that I would end up paying for debt instead of getting a job? Depressing.
  • He was everything nobody could deal with. Ridiculous rules, proud and always walking out on me mid-sentence which was infuriating. What could I do? Nothing. I'm stuck with him for a while. Brandon reappeared to show me around the Mansion.
  • It was beautiful, but with a lot of restrictions. There were so many places I didn't have access to. My routine was, 'knock but don't enter Mr. Pierce's room, wait in the sitting room, and if for some reason in the universe I need to spend the night, it had to be in a tiny room opposite him. While I was there, I was to stay out of his sight.' Did the man hate my existence that much? He treated me like a plague. No ill feelings, though. He treated everyone like dirt.
  • Every day with him was chaos. He was either screaming at me or giving me inhumane tasks. Yet, I had to hold it down. It has been four days with him and in those last four days, I have been more stressed than I have been in my entire life. Waking up early with one objective; to survive the day in the hands of Miles Pierce. I barely had time to eat something nice or even look after myself. Each day, I woke up drained and retired home on the verge of tears.
  • My worries also increased since my rent was overdue, and it was only a matter of seconds before I was out on the streets. Yet, he debunked the suggestion of me staying in his place. That was my last hope. My only hope. I had to find an alternative then.
  • Miles Pierce didn't care if I was dying. His primary concern was my outlook. He would scold me about wearing cheap clothes and overeating. He even pushed on my weight and I almost lost it. I'm a worker, not a model and if he knew what I was dealing with, he would give me a break. But of course, he didn't know. He was lost in his life of wealth, fame, and power that he had time on his hands to criticize my choice.
  • When I researched him, I almost drowned myself. The man was one of the people that ruled the business world, and he was wealthy. No wonder he wanted to murder me for calling him a cleaner. And learning about him, I stayed invisible like he asked and did my bidding, no matter how difficult. The last thing I wanted was more trouble.
  • Today was the fifth day working for him. Who was counting? I was. Like every other day, I scrambled out of bed, took a cold shower, and threw on a decent outfit. I had to drive as fast as I could, park a few blocks away from his house, so he didn't see my car, and make it to his residence at six in the morning. When I got there, he wasn't even up, but he had screamed over the phone for me to be there at six or lose my job.
  • “Where's Mr. Pierce?” I asked Brandon, who was sipping coffee from a mug. Did the guy even get a rest, or he worked around the clock? Because I have never seen him relaxing. He was always alert and ready to carry out Miles's commands. I wouldn't envy his salary, no matter the amount.
  • “He's meditating,” he simply answered.
  • “Meditating? Why did he ask me to come over so early?”
  • “I wouldn't know, Miss Tate. It's best you wait for him in the sitting room,” he suggested, heading towards the second gate.
  • Damn! How could a man be so fine! Each day there and I keep restraining myself from running my hands over his abs and saying, “please be mine, Brandon.” I shook my head to get that thought off my mind.
  • Mentally preparing myself, I strolled into the house, straight to the sitting room. There, I saw Grenada. From what I deduced, she seemed to be Miles's sugar mommy or something because she was the only one he didn't snap at. And, he listened to her. She also made countless trips to his room each day. To add to that, the woman looked to be in her late forties or early fifties. I could be wrong. But, she still looked beautiful, elegant, and classy. Always receptive with a warm smile and a hug of kindness. Why wouldn't Miles fall for her?
  • “You're here,” Grenada's vibrant voice said. Like always, she pulled me into a hug. “Get some breakfast while you're here. He will take another forty minutes to come down,” she announced, jerking her head towards Miles's bedroom.
  • Yeah, she knew his schedule more than anyone else. I was yet to find out her position in his life, apart from my suspicions. Nobody talked or made out time to know one another. Everyone was professional and there was no lacking. They kept their heads high and chin tipped like statues. As if they didn't breathe. It was boring and the most voice you heard was from Miles.
  • “I don't think Mr. Pierce would allow that. Besides, I have had breakfast. Thank you.” Hardly did my lies leave my mouth and my stomach chose to rumble, giving me away.
  • She chuckled in amusement and shook her head. “Darling, don't be shy. Working for Miles isn't what one should do on an empty stomach. Take it from a doctor.”
  • Oh, she was a doctor? A bonus too. This woman was a true role model for one. I don't care what anyone else says, if truly she was something to Miles, he landed a Queen. And the fact that she was nice made it all charming.
  • “If you need guidance on your way around the house, ask Isabel. She's the head maid. Try to loosen up a bit so that you can enjoy your job.” She patted me on the back. “I have to leave now. See you around.” She got to the door, holding the handle, she turned. “Good job on making it until now. You surprised me,” she let out before leaving.
  • Stayed until now? What did she mean by that? No matter how I tried to think it through, it didn't make sense to me.
  • My stomach ached and rumbled the more. I took her advice and began walking towards the door adjacent to the sitting room. Countless times, I had observed that one or two maids came through that door. If I was going in the wrong direction, at least I will have people to guide me.
  • A soft knock on the door, I peek open the door, enough for me to see inside but not fully to let me in. About four maids were busy in the exquisite kitchen. Every bit of this household keeps getting pretty, and they're all uniquely decorated. The architect outdid him/herself as well as the interior designer and all the teams that were involved.
  • “How can I help you?” One of the maids asked, and the other three stopped what they were doing and turned to look at me. I hadn't even noticed when she got to me. I just saw her in front of me. Were the maids also trained like the guards?
  • Mesmerized, I got lost in her eyes. Miles wasn't kidding when he said that he had a peculiar taste when it came to his workers. Same as the guards, they were handpicked. Instead of the usual random maids with different body sizes, they looked more like models. All dressed in black fitted dresses that stopped below their knees, black flats, and brunette hair gelled to the back and held in a bun. They looked like a quadruplet; the same facial structure, slim bodies with a bit of curve, and were tall. I think they would make more if they started a modeling career than working for Miles.
  • “Excuse me?” she snapped her fingers. “How can I help you?” she asked again, her tone gentle.
  • “I'm sorry,” I apologized and got myself up today. Ever since I started working here, I have apologized for more times than I did in my entire adulthood. “I'm Meredith Tate, Mr. Pierce's new assistant,” I introduced myself.
  • She broke into a grin. “Oh, nice to meet you. We've been dying to meet you. Please come in. I'm Isabel,” she responded, firmly reaching and shaking my hand. “That's Sarah,” she pointed at the one with hazel eyes.
  • “Hi,” she waved.
  • “And that's Britney,” pointing at an unfriendly-looking blue-eyed girl. “Oh, don't mind her. She scowls at everyone.”
  • “I can hear you,” the girl's stern voice boomed.
  • “And that is Lucinda,” she pointed at a honey-brown-eyed girl, who sprinted forward and pulled me into a warm hug.
  • “Nice to meet you too,” I said. It will take me a couple of times mingling with them before I could differentiate one from the other unless I looked at their eyes. Did Miles have a fetish for people who looked alike?
  • Overall, I was the fattest there. All of them seemed to be on diet. “Nice to meet you all,” I said once again. “Grenada said that I could whip a quick breakfast while I wait for Mr. Pierce to come down.”
  • “Oh, come in. Come in.” She offered me a chair on one of the high stools surrounding the island. “What would you like to have so that I can make it?”
  • “Oh, you don't have to worry. Just show me around. I'll make it myself.”
  • “Not at all,” she insisted.
  • “Okay. Whatever is available is okay with you.”
  • She nodded and began to work her way around the kitchen while I sat, stared, and admired We conversed, and it was as if we had been longtime friends. A few minutes, she dished a meal before me.
  • “Dig in,” she instructed, still wearing her signature charming smile.
  • “Thank you,” I said.
  • Getting my fork, about to render the plate clean with my devouring, “what is going on here!” that forever unhappy male voice barked from the door.