2
1213 Words
I woke up early and started getting ready. Today felt like it was going to be alot. I swallowed the anxiety building up in my chest.
My phone pinged and I saw that it was a message from Sophie. My fingers tightened around my phone so hard I thought it might crack when I picked it up..
Sophie’s message was still glowing on the screen.
“I sent you the address. Don’t be late. Good luck.”
My heart started beating faster again. I needed all the luck in the world today.
Because for someone like me, chances didn’t feel like hope.
They felt like pressure.
Like if I failed this one, there would be nothing left to try.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
My blouse was clean but it still looked cheap. My eyes looked tired. My hair was tied up too carefully just to look… acceptable.
Mom’s hospital bills flashed through my mind like a warning.
“I have to do this,” I whispered.
Even if my voice shook.
Even if my chest felt too tight to breathe properly.
Even if I didn’t belong anywhere near people who lived in places like the Hartwell’s.
The address Sophie sent me led me somewhere I didn’t think was real.
It was at the outskirts of the city and everything seemed to change the moment I arrived.
It became quieter. Cleaner. Sharper.
Everything looked like it had been designed for people who never worried about money.
And then I saw it.
The Hartwell Penthouse Tower.
My steps slowed without permission.
My head tilted back as far as it could go, but I still couldn’t see the top.
It didn’t look like a building.
It looked like power.
Like something I should not be standing in front of.
“This is insane…” I whispered.
But my feet kept moving anyway. I stopped at the security check points where I told the men guarding the gates that I was here for an interview. I had to show them my ID and then got screened before they let me in.
The lobby swallowed me whole the moment I stepped inside.
Marble floors reflected everything
A chandelier hung above like something from a dream I could never afford to have.
A man in a crisp uniform approached me.
“You’re here for the interview?”
“Yes,” I said quickly, too quickly.
He studied me for a second too long, like I was something that didn’t quite fit in his world.
“Wait here. The head butler will attend to you shortly.”
I sat down carefully, like even the chair might reject me if I moved wrong.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Just get through this.
Just get the job.
The elevator chimed.
I looked up.
A man stepped out.
Older. Calm. Expensive in a quiet way that didn’t need attention to prove itself.
His eyes landed on me immediately.
“You’re Maya Rivers,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Follow me.”
I followed him through corridors that felt endless, my footsteps swallowed by silence and luxury.
Every step deeper made me feel smaller.
Like I was being erased.
The interview room was too perfect. Pristinely white and quiet. Like nothing messy had ever happened there—including people like me.
“How old are you, miss Rivers?” He asked me.
“I’m twenty three, sir.” I answered with a lump in my throat. I needed this job. I can’t afford to not get it. Mom needed treatment and this was my chance at saving her life.
“Are you done with school?” He continued.
“Yes. I was an art major student.” I answered.
“I see. What experience do you have as a maid then?”
“I haven’t worked as a maid before but I have done quite a number of cleaning and cooking jobs.” I answered.
“So, what was your last job?”
“I worked as a waitress at a cafe.”
“And why did you lose the job?”
My heart started racing.
“I uhm…it was—“
“You were fired weren’t you?”
I wanted to make up something that will favour me, but nothing I could possibly say will make me getting fired less disappointing.
“Yes, sir. I was fired. But it was just because of an accident.” I admitted.
“I see.”
He looked at me as though assessing me.
“Well, thank you Miss Rivers. I’ll get back to you tomorrow.” He said coolly before rising up.
So this was it? I thought to myself.
He walked out of the room and I quickly followed after him so that I wouldn't get lost but unfortunately I lost track of him until I was wandering along the corridor.
I wanted to turn a corner that I thought I saw him enter. I turned the corner too fast and didn’t see him until it was too late. I crashed straight into a hard chest and bounced back like I had hit a wall. Strong hands caught my arms immediately before I could fall. My breath got stuck in my throat.
I looked up slowly and my heart stopped.
He was tall, too close, and extremely cold in a way that made the air around him feel heavy. His face was sharp and unreadable, his eyes dark and fixed on me like I was something that did not belong there.
“Watch where you’re going,” he said in a low voice.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”
He did not move away. His hands left my arms only after a second, slow and controlled, like he was deciding whether I was a problem or just another inconvenience in his day..
“Who are you?” he asked. His deep baritone voice making me nervous.
“I’m Maya. I’m here for the position of maid interview,” I replied.
For a moment, his expression changed slightly, like he was not expecting that answer. Then it went back to being cold.
“A maid,” he repeated.
“Yes sir.”
Silence filled the space between us. I suddenly became very aware of how small I felt standing in front of him. He looked at me the way people look at things that didn’t matter to them.
“You should be more careful around here, Maya.” The way he said my name sent chills down my spine.
“I’m sorry,” I answered too quickly. My voice shaking as I try to avoid his cold stare.
Before I could say anything else, footsteps came immediately. And then I heard a voice from behind him.
Soft. Sweet. Familiar in a way that made my stomach drop.
“Babe?”
My body went cold.
I did not need to turn to recognize who it was.
But I still did.
The same expensive looking woman who I spilled coffee on yesterday stood at the end of the hallway. Slowly, her expression changed. The calm look on her face disappeared.
“What,” she said viciously, “are you doing here?”
- Writer
