TWO WORLDS APART

CHAPTER 4

A month had gone by already. She wasn't still used to the unending bullying coming from Her uncle and his family. Every time she made it to her room unseen, it felt like heaven.

She was scanning through her emails, hoping the places she had applied to had accepted her. Most job interviews ended with a promise to get back to her but none ever did. No one wants a college dropout. She switched off her phone and forced herself to sleep. Maybe tomorrow or next, she thought to herself.

The morning rush hour was crazy. She ignored a taxi man who nearly ran her over but kept yelling and insisting it was her fault. This city was just crazy. A few turns and she finally found it, Le café Angélique. She rushed in to get her morning dose of caffeine to kick start another day of job searching.

"I don't want it done this way, ma'am. Could you get someone more professional, please?" Said a customer that didn't care if he was holding the line. He wore a nice designer suit and had good taste in fashion. He spoke politely to the barista but that wasn't enough reason to ruin other customers' morning.

He turned and saw her scowling. He winked at her and continued. Okay first of, Mr. Pretty boy over here must be crazy if he thinks a wink would fix the time he had wasted, she thought to herself. She glanced at the barista over the counter and saw how hard she was trying to suppress her anger. "You're wasting every other person's time here, you should apologize. Besides, who do you think you are? You want professional service. I'll give you a service" she said as she made her way across the counter.

The barista gladly gave her a chance to make the coffee. Food should be treated as gods, her mother had once said, while she taught her daughter how to make quick meals including a short coffee break.

It didn't take long. She submitted it to the arrogant punk and waited for a review. He lifted the cup and gave it a long stare before drawing it closer to his lips. The steam embraced his lips first and his tongue warmed up to the content of the coffee cup. He dropped the cup and his face was lit up in excitement. She took the cup from him, to the surprise of the barista and him. "Special service would cost you twenty dollars. That would be exactly an hour's pay if I worked in this café. It has been an hour already, so pay up". She said as she stretched out her hands in anticipation of her pay. He smiled and gladly paid up. He took his coffee from her like an uncaged animal. "Enjoy," said Amelia as she stuffed the cash in her pocket. She needed to commence her job search already.

"Please wait," a voice cried from behind. She turned to find the barista running towards her. "Come work for us. I'm the owner of the place. As you can see we have customers but not enough help. I'm willing to pay you that amount every hour" said the barista. This was new.

She usually goes to them for a job, not vice versa. "Why?" Amelia asked. The barista simply pointed at Mr. Pretty Boy who by the way seemed to be enjoying his coffee. He sniffed the aroma and smiled at her. "Because of him?" She asked in confusion. "No and yes'' came her reply. The barista pointed at another customer who seemed to be causing more trouble than the previous one. "I'm the only barista here. I like making coffee but you see the workload is too much to bear alone. I'll pay you $20 every hour, which means in a year you earn at least twenty thousand dollars. It's a costly salary but I like to spoil things that seem valuable. You could think about it, I'm not going to rush you " she added before leaving Amelia to her thoughts.

Not too long after the barista had gone, Mr. Pretty boy walked over to her table and fixed himself in a chair. "I apologize for this morning. You see, I'm always too precise whenever it comes to food" he said with a deep voice. He had an Italian accent. "That's okay. You're just the type to get cranky when you are hungry. I understand " said Amelia. His slender fingers were still wrapped around the coffee cup as though it begged them for warmth.

"I am Michael. You do look familiar but anyway what is your name? Amore mio" asked Michael as he took a sip of his coffee. She laughed at the way the Italian words slipped from his mouth. "Is this some kind of Mafia romance fiction? I'm Amelia but my friends and enemies call me Red. I'm glad you liked the coffee but I'll be off now" said Amelia as she stood up to meet the Barista. She had forgotten to ask for her name.

She was finally warming up to the place. She got a job that made her leave the house early in the morning and come back late at night, so that helped with Emily's dramas.

Michael was now her first friend in the city. He had a strip club and usually had lipstick stains.

"Bro you're a s*x machine dressed like a doll in suits. You have lipstick on your collar" she had said on one sunny afternoon. This was Los Angeles though. No one seemed to care about that at all. He just laughed it off, while he sipped his coffee.

"Teach me how to dance," said Amelia in anticipation. He didn't see that coming and choked on the hot coffee he had drunk. "What? You can't be serious, "said Michael. The look on her face told otherwise. "No. Stop" he added quickly and made to get up from his seat. She quickly pulled him down and hit his ribs with her elbow. He felt paralyzed immediately.

"Where did you learn to move like that? The mafian movies I recommended didn't say anything about kung-fu " he mentioned lazily. "In the house I live in, it's a necessary skill," she added quickly. He just nodded as he waited for the effects to wear off. "Teach me, come on, it would be fun. Besides, I'll have my mask on" she said with a little smirk across her face. "No! You're my best friend and like a sister. I can't have other men watch you", Michael said defensively.

"Sister? Mikey I'm not your sister I can have you right now but we're both not each other's type. Your ego is fatter than your head. I'll be back" said Amelia as she stood up to get her bag. "Where are you going?" Michael asked, still sounding defensive.

"Dance lessons, of course" said Amelia as she rushed into the worker's dress room, to change from her uniform to her regular clothes.