Part two.
I released a small squeal. My heart couldn't contain the joy I felt at that moment. It was all surreal. I knew I'd gotten a Job, but what I didn't know was that I'd be working in the home of a celebrity. I really did hit the jackpot, and I had only one person to thank.
Maria.
She was the reason I was happy. Working for a celebrity, ordinarily the thought of it elated me. Just the day before, I was thinking about going over to a small pub to apply for the job of a cleaner, but. . . but reverse was the case for me now because I was going to be working for a celebrity, living at a decent place.
"Thank you, Ma' Maria," I dropped my baggage on the floor and pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
I released Maria from the hug and I couldn't stop smiling, while Maria just kept on grinning. Then I did a mental rundown on the celebrity that I could be working with. Robert Downey junior, Chris Pratt, Chris Hemsworth, Tom Holland, Robert Pattinson, or perhaps my longtime crush, Cole Sprouse AKA Jughead Jones. Honestly, I was really curious and I couldn't hold it in any longer as we stood by the huge flower vase.
"Just tell me, Ma' Maria," I turned and held on to her both her hands, looking into her Onyx orbs as I pleaded for an answer. "Just help me quench my curiosity by telling me who this celebrity is."
She barked a laugh, saying, "You'd know before the end of the day, so just be patient and be surprised."
"You know I hate surprises," I released her hand and kept my hands across my chest with a faux frown on my face. Also, I was lying. I really loved surprises. I mean who doesn't? "Is it Cole Sprouse? John Boyega? Idris Elba? Just tell me, Ma' Maria."
She didn't tell me. She just kept on laughing, and I gave up, looking forward to seeing who my boss would be.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." I heard a voice laced with an Irish accent. I turned my head to where the direction of the voice came from and I was met with an angel walking down elegantly from the grandiose spiral staircase which I was standing next to. An angel in turquoise blue. "And she must be Mary, or am I wrong, Maria?"
I shifted back a little, moving my body away from the staircase so the lady could pass by without me obstructing her way.
"Yes," Answered Maria, placing her hand on my shoulder. "She's my daughter."
"She's beautiful," The lady commented and I couldn't help but blush.
Getting a compliment wasn't something I was used to, but getting one from a beauty itself made me feel on top of the world. Though I couldn't be compared to her because she was flawless. Her white skin was flawless, spotless and unmatchable. Her blonde hair was shining, screaming expensive oils and treatment. And her gown, it was just enthralling.
Also, she was no celebrity because I couldn't recognize her.
Perhaps Maria was only pulling my legs.
"How're you doing, Maria?" The blonde asked, pulling Maria in for a friendly hug. And all that was on my mind at that time was how Maria was fortunate to Know someone as elegant as the lady hugging her. In my twenty two years with Maria, I was never aware she knew someone who was rich.
"I'm great, Mrs Peterson." Answered Maria, and I figured she was the woman Maria had been talking to while we were outside.
"Come, let's go take our seat," Mrs Peterson said, and I carried my baggage from the floor as she led us through the grandiose spiral staircase. "I didn't know she'd be this beautiful, Maria."
Mrs Peterson said as we walked through the stairs and I just smiled, while Maria only laughed in response, and no one said anything until we got upstairs — and by the way, the beauty was gargantuan. No kidding. All I could see around me was gold and magnificence.
And I was the odd one out.
I didn't seem to fit in with the way the whole place looked mainly for the elites — well, let me rephrase that — I and Maria didn't fit in. We both looked like a coin on a bag of gold bars. At least, Maria still looked more attractive than I was looking. Her best Sunday church gown made her look a bit classy while I on the other hand looked un-classy, and my overwashed knee ripped blue jeans made me look like I was picked from the street. And my auburn hair? It hadn't been shampooed for over a week. Without doubt I knew it stinked, badly.
However, Mrs Peterson didn't seem to mind how I looked since she had earlier on called me beautiful.
"Have your seat and make yourself at home," the blonde said as she walked over to a single seater cushion.
Maria quickly made herself comfortable by settling down on a two seater cushion. I proceeded to sit beside her, placing my baggage on my thighs.
"What about you nephew?" Maria asked.
"Oh, he's at work now," the blonde said, and I wondered who her nephew was. Perhaps he could be the celebrity, but then, I couldn't remember any celebrity with the surname 'Peterson.' "So, have you briefed Mary on her role?"
"No I haven't," replied Maria. "But I will, before I leave."
"Or I can just brief her right now," Mrs Peterson turned to me with a smile on her face. "Mary dear, you won't be working for me, I'm simply just hiring you, you'd be working for my nephew as his personal maid."
I nodded, grabbing everything she was saying. And about me working as her nephew's personal maid, I had no problem with it as long as the pay was good and I could help Maria out.
Mrs Peterson told me all about my duties as the maid, or had she'd put it, as the personal maid. She told me stuff I was obliged to do within the house, and she also told me that I was going to be the one preparing food for her nephew but not before asking me if I knew how to cook, and hell yes, I knew how to really cook. Maria had taught me how to cook from the early age of five.
"Any questions?" She asked after she'd finished telling me my duties.
"No," I replied to her, my voice coming out low — which was unlike me. Then my curiosity pricked me and I asked her the question that I'd wanted to know ever since Maria told me that I'd be working with a celebrity. "Who will I be working with?"
She grinned, showing off her sparkling white teeth. "So Maria hasn't told you, uhm?"
I shook my head.
"Well, you'd be working for Bastille Norman."
I froze hearing that name.
Bastille Norman. . . The Multi billionaire.