Melissa POV
I had a lot of dreams growing up. I saw myself growing up to become a sergeant, then a teacher, because I had a crash on my English teacher, then a doctor, and many more dreams of careers that seemed exciting at the time. I was young and innocent, and those were nice dreams.
My reality, however, was that I was late.
Again.
And it was not a good thing when it came to my boss. She was not one to tolerate tardiness, even though it was her fault. It was an excuse I could not use on her, as she always says,
'No one cares about excuses. Only the results matter.'
As inconvenient as that sounded, she was right. That is how the universe operates, after all.
I am neither a teacher nor a doctor, nor have I had any of those dreams, but a high school graduate who was trying to survive in this man-eat-man world after failing to pass for university. I did not fail; I just did not achieve the grades that would give me a scholarship.
And so here I was, running errands and working odd jobs to make ends meet, a huge contrast on what we were promised during our school days.
Because the estate did not allow any public car, I had to walk my way.
One look at the surroundings, and one could tell that this estate was a place of luxury and exclusivity. Immaculate lawns, towering gates, and expensive cars lined the streets, creating an atmosphere of opulence. The life I dreamt of.
Its one thing seing your dreams failing and another seing one living it. Arriving at her residence gate, I pressed the alarm only to hear a little child ask through the intercom.
"Who is it?" I smiled as the familiar spoke through the intercom.
"It's me..." "Me, who?" came her childish, mischievous voice.
"Meaw," I replied, imitating a cat's meow.
The child giggled, and the next moment, the gate opened itself. As it opened, a little girl of five appeared, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she ran towards me. "and enveloped me in a warm hug."
"Mel!" she squealed. "I missed you so much!"
"So did I," I replied with laughter, returning her hug.
Mickey was her name. The most beautiful Indian American girl I have ever come across with her dark, flowing hair and bright, green almond-shaped eyes. We have become close over the past few months since I started working for her mother. Her warm welcome always made my visits to her house even more enjoyable.
"I am glad to see you back. How was your trip? Did you see the cows and the goats, and the ducks? Brenda told me that there are so many sheeps on the country side." She eagerly asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. I chuckled at her childish enthusiasm. Brenda was there house help.
"First of all, it's sheep, notsheeps, and yes, I did see all those animals! The cows were grazing peacefully, the goats were climbing on rocks, and the ducks were swimming in the pond. But I didn't see any sheep; maybe they were hiding somewhere!"
"Or eaten by hyenas!" She gasped in horror.
"Oh no, I hope not!" I faked a gasp, gazing into her large, innocent yet mischievous eyes before adding,
"Maybe they're just shy and prefer to stay hidden." and she smiled. I let out a hearty chuckle at her cute reaction.
One thing that I always look forward to when visiting my boss is meeting the sweet little Mickey.
"Where is your mama?" I asked, walking towards the house while holding her hand.
"You mean mam Green?" she asked, cheekily causing my eyes to bulge and used my hand to cover her mouth.
That was not her mother's name! It was a nickname that she was not aware of.
"Shush! Walls do have ears. And it's not good to call your mother with that name." I warned, a smile playing on my lips.
" Don't worry, she's in her office." Mickey giggled and led me towards the door.
I coudn't blame the little girl though as her mother lived up to her name. Her house or might I say mansion, once we stepped in was coloured in green.
"I'll go call mama," Mikey said before running away.
No matter how many times I had visited, the grandeur and elegance of this place always amazed me.
The house welcomed me with open doors and a wide hallway adorned with photographs. Mikey's cheeky smile lit up the pictures, flanked by her parents on either side.
The floor boasted an old-fashioned parquet in rich, homely browns, while the walls showcased the greens of summer gardens against a soft, cream-colored ceiling.
"Is that my clean couch you're sitting on in those same clothes you wore on the bus?" a voice, tinged with feminine annoyance, snapped me from my reverie. I looked up and behold was my boss lady, descending the staircase, beutiful as ever in her greenish saree and stern expression.
"I... um..." I stammered, scrambling to find words or an excuse, hastily standing up and straightening my clothes.
"How long was it again? 3 hours?" she continued walking down the stairs, her tone dripping with disapproval.
"I apologize," I finally managed to say, feeling embarrassed.
After working for her for a long time, I should have gotten used to her jibes, but every time she was mean to me, it still stung.
"Oh, C'mon, don't give me that look. In my office." She waved her hand away, walking towards the other direction where her office was located.
I followed her silently as we entered her office. It was undeniably beautiful and classy, though there was an overwhelming amount of green. Besides the green couch, the walls were also a shade of green, and even the flowers—a mix of white and green—further emphasized the theme.
The color green seemed to dominate the entire house, alongside shades of brown and white. Whenever I visited, it felt like stepping into a greenhouse.
"Are you going to get started or stare at my humble abode all day long?" Her sharp words pulled me out of my reverie, and I cleared my throat. "Sorry," I murmured, walking towards the seat, but hesitated before sitting down.
The last thing I wanted was a repeat of what had happened in the living room. Meeting her gaze, I cautiously took a seat, mindful of the glare she directed at me.
"It's nice to see you again, Harita. How have you been?" she had isisten on not calling her by mrs but her first name which also means something in the line of green. Now you get where Mrs Green comes from, right?
"That will depend on what you have for me. Let's get down to business, chap, chap," she replied briskly, settling into her seat on the enormous mahogany chair behind her ornate desk—all imported from Italy by the finest craftsmen.
How do I know this?
There's no detail Mrs. Beth would overlook when it comes to her achievements. She often sees a reflection of herself in me, she claims. Once, she mentioned starting from humble beginnings with just a few thousand dollars—a story I find hard to believe, given her privileged upbringing and marriage into wealth.
I guess the saying is right: Money attracts money, and so is power.
"What do you keep daydreaming about?" She snapped her fingers, interrupting my thoughts. I smiled sheepishly and adjusted in my seat. "Sorry about that," I said.
"You apologize too much. What did I tell you about apologizing?" She crossed her arms, expecting a response.
Though Harita was strict and direct, she acted as a mentor to me. She consistently urged me to be more confident and assertive, warning that over-apologizing would undermine my self-worth.
"Right." I took a deep breath, straightened my posture, and met her gaze.
"You look beautiful, by the way—in green, of course." She wore a stylish green saree that complemented her olive complexion perfectly.
For the next thirty minutes, I detailed the missing information and potential discrepancies in the reports, trying to keep her focused as I outlined each point clearly.
When we finally wrapped up, Harita rose from her imposing chair, and I followed suit.
"That was a job well done, Melissa," she said with an unexpected smile, catching me off guard. It was rare to hear a single praise from her.
"I hope your journey was eventful and you stumbled upon something interesting." again, out of her character to ask such personal question.
And what did she mean by "something interesting"? I couldn't help but wonder, as confusion and curiosity swirling in my mind.
"Something interesting?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued.
"Yes, Melissa. Something interesting." Harita leaned forward, her gaze intense.
"It will be such a waste of time and life to go through the motions without discovering new things or experiencing moments of excitement. Surely, you must have encountered something unexpected—whether good or bad—that leaves an impression?"
Her words hung in the air, and suddenly my mind raced back to the guy with the hazel eyes. He was definitely a highlight of my visit, though not for the reasons I would have preferred. I grimaced, recalling how my clumsiness had embarrassed both of us.
"Bingo! It seems like you did," Harita exclaimed, a knowing smile spreading across her face.
Caught off guard, I struggled to maintain my composure. "It's not what you think..."
"Anyway, your attention to detail is commendable. I'm glad to see you improving." Just like that, she shifted the subject, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
I thanked her for the compliment as she neatly placed the files in her drawer, closing it with a satisfied nod. With her mood lightening, I decided it was time to ask something that had been on my mind.
"Harita, I've been meaning to ask—"
"If this is about adding the workers' wages, then forget it." She interrupted me, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.
"That's not it," I insisted, trying to keep my tone steady. "You've already shared your views on that. I was thinking maybe you could visit the workers once in a while. It could boost their morale and show them you value their hard work."
"Melissa, Melissa, my naive Melissa," she chuckled condescendingly, moving away from her imposing desk to stand near me. "Why do you think I work so hard every day to be at the top? No one but myself gave me the drive to keep going. I don't need to visit the workers to prove I value their efforts. They should already know that from the opportunities I provide."
Of course, that's what she would say. She was, after all, a business-minded person.
"And why should I visit them when you're here?" she added, her voice dripping with superiority. "Have you forgotten? You are my eyes and ears."
"But what about giving them bonuses? The economy isn't doing well," I hesitated, hoping to soften her stance.
"The economy should not concern you, my dear." She shot back immediately.
"I'm a businesswoman. One thing you'll learn as you grow is that you can't solve every problem. Focus on your responsibilities and trust that I'll handle the financial aspects." Her dismissive wave cut me off, and she returned to her chair, pulling out an envelope.
"When are you planning on opening an account?" she asked, handing it to me.
"I will soon," I replied, taking the envelope from her. I knew arguing was futile; she always had a retort at the ready. I had promised the workers I'd try to persuade her to reconsider the bonus structure, but it felt increasingly hopeless.
As I left her office, I looked forward to reaching home, eager to escape the weight of our conversation.