Maid For Her Alphas

Mama has to be alright! Mama’s going to be alright! Sophia repeated the mantra over and over in her brain. She had no other thought as she wiped the dinner table clean of non-existent dirt. Her forehead creased into a frown, and strands of her blond hair fell over her face. Sophia tucked it away in frustration, beads of sweat coating her breasts as she worked. It took the loud cough of her co-worker and best friend, Becky. They were both in the same grade in school and lived in the same community. Becky was her confidant; she knew all about her predicament and the reason why she had rarely smiled for days now. “The head chef wants you in the kitchen,” Becky whispered to her as she breezed past her with a plate of orders for some customers. Sophia’s stomach grumbled in reaction to that aroma. She had not had the time to feed before coming to work, and they were not allowed to eat at work; they could only do that when work was over, which was usually very late. Sophia straightened her working gown and proceeded to the cooking area where the fat head chef was busy stir-frying spaghetti. Sophia’s mouth watered “Face up, girl. No drooling over customers’ food,” He shouted at her through the mouth covering he wore. Sophia looked away from the food and stared at him instead, a thing he hated. He said her eyes resembled a scavenger's and he didn’t like them on him. Well, he called her anyway, and he would get it. “You called for me,” Sophia managed to say. “You have been serving food like you lost your soul, do you want to go home to search for it and then come back when you have found it?” he asked with disdain, his tone brutish. The other chefs in the kitchen gave her a sympathetic look, but none spoke up in her defense. She was not exactly their favourite staff. “I am sorry” she muttered gently. It was easier for her to beg and go back to work, denying it was only going to make him nag more and cause her a great headache. The head chef ignored her. Sophia stood there; she could not leave unless he dismissed her. Though she could see the other waiters had problems serving the food, she had to help. The head chef began serving the spaghetti, the nice aroma making Sophia swallow, though she dared not make a sound; her eyes were on the rich red mixture that coated the body of the spaghetti, especially the meatballs that were wrapped in it. Each plate was carefully designed with spaghetti, carrots, and bell pepper sprinkled on it. “You are not the only one who misses your mother and wishes there was something that could be done to help your family,” he continued. Sophia’s eyes glazed with tears at his words. “Your mother was a sweet woman, and we all miss her. “ No, he didn’t. He was just being two-faced. He had been the first person she had contacted for money when her mother’s sickness started. She had contracted tuberculosis and had been let off from the restaurant. He had refused all contact with them since then. Though he had been a good friend of her mother. Becky was her life saver, she was the belle of the restaurant, and the men rarely ever found fault in whatever she said. They danced to her whim always. “Chef Bob, we need help at the back, please? Can Sophia resume work? We have a backlog, and I really don’t want the manager’s query on my ass" “I am sure your ass can take a lot of queries” Another waiter, Mark joked. He was a handsome fellow with several tattoo piercings, Sophia never counted. He was a ladies' man and had been employed at the restaurant because of his handsome features. Though he had proved to be efficient as time went by. He winked at Becky, who smiled back. Sophia didn’t care about their secret communication; she just wanted to leave. “Alright, you can go.” The chef dismissed her with a wave of his hand, not bothering to look at her. Sophia walked away without a backward glance. She ignored Becky’s sympathetic look and focused on her work. She didn’t want to botch the job; she needed every penny she earned. She and her mother worked at the restaurant. While her mother was a cook, she had worked as a waitress and they both earned their income working alongside each other, until her mother’s sickness had started, and they barely had money to buy her drugs. Her initial treatment had cost them the mortgage to their house. The deadline was fast approaching to pay up and Sophia could feel migraine hitting her regularly. The money from the restaurant could only feed them, and the restaurant had refused to pay any compensation fee, saying she hadn't contracted tuberculosis from the workplace. It was not a work-related illness, so she had only been laid off with that month's wages. Sophia was only thankful school was not in session, so she could work full hours, but she was still a long way from the mortgage fees. She was exhausted and hungry. By the end of the day, Sophia was tired, but she could not leave as she was the one on the duty roster for the day to clean the restaurant. Signing in despair, she watched as the staff members left after the other. Sophia took a seat on the chair, eyeing the dumpster the restaurant had become. Her mother would need her help moving around, yet she had to clean. She stood up and went to the water dispenser, filling a cup with water. She drowned the chilled water in one move; the coldness made her shiver as her teeth clenched against each other in protest at the offending liquid. Sophia removed her apron and dropped it on a nearby table. She removed her hairband, combed her hands through it, and tied it all over. She then began cleaning the place; she started by picking up the leftovers. She would survive this, she had to.