The Billionaire's Deal.

Her hands shook slightly as she balanced two trays, one in each hand. Almost tripping, she gained her balance just in time to avoid spilling hot pasta on a customer. She barely made it to the customer's table and let out a relieved sigh as she placed a plate of food in front of each customer. Wishing them a lovely meal, she turned and barely made it back to the waiters' section. She checked her watch again. Five more. Anxiety rose within her, and in that moment, the conversations spread across the room seemed to tense her up. She had to get ready. Hurrying off, she muttered something to Enzo, who was busy with an order. He didn't give her a second glance. As she padded her way through the nearly empty halls that led to the workers' restroom, she was baffled by the sound of her heart pounding against her chest. The workers' restroom was at the end of the building, behind everything else. It was where they came to let everything out when the pressure became too much. A place of solace, especially for her. As she turned the corner, she spotted two green metal doors with the words "Female" and "Male" written across them. She pushed the one meant for her open and went in. A wave of nostalgia hit her as she remembered all the times she'd spent in here crying, hiding away from the pressure. She walked into the fifth bathroom stall—the one she'd cried in when her mom slumped and she didn't have enough money for the hospital bill, or when her younger sister was almost taken away by child care services. With a sigh, she sat on the toilet seat and checked her watch again. Two more. Relief flooded through her. She had to get going, or else she would be late for her other job. Though the restaurant had a strict policy about leaving shifts early, she knew Enzo would understand her situation. Besides, by the time she was done changing, her shift would be over. Taking the small bag of clothes, she quickly put on her maid's uniform and hurried to the sign-out desk. "Hey," a voice said behind her as she scribbled her name and initials on the page. Done. She dropped her pen and turned to see Beatrice, the nicest colleague she'd ever had—and Enzo's girlfriend. She smiled. "Hi." "Done with your shift, I see," she said, her eyes on my outfit. "Yeah," she said, moving past her through the storage room and out the back door. A gust of fresh air hit her as she stepped outside. Only then did she realize how much the smell of cheese and meat had floated through the restaurant's air. She couldn't get a cab this late at night, so she would have to walk. The night seemed to fold in on itself, still and quiet. Her steps increased in pace as the cold air bit at her skin. Her watch read 11:40 p.m. She had to be at Cross Manor by midnight. Lateness would not be tolerated. She remembered the stern words of the dark-suited man she would later come to realize was the house manager. The streets felt deserted, the only sign of life being a flickering streetlight a few steps ahead of her. The feeling of her heartbeat pounding against her chest terrified her more than the eerie stillness of the streets. She was being delusional, but being alone was a fear she'd not just been born with but had cultivated. Seeing her mom suffer through loneliness and near depression after her dad was... Something moved in the bushes beside her. "s**t," she said, startled. Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she quickened her pace from hurried steps to a near run. Fear. Her mother had said that was man's worst enemy, but she thought fear kept people alive, away from bad situations. Her watch read **11:50 p.m.** She was about five yards away from Cross Manor. A few more turns and she would come into what she liked to call the rich side of Empire State. Sleek apartments lined the empty streets, and as she moved further, each building, monochromatic and urban, left her gasping. But she knew this was just the beginning. Soon, the last sleek apartments stood a few feet behind her, and another realm of riches lay before her eyes. Duplexes and penthouses were all she could see for what seemed like miles, and as she walked past each house, she couldn't help but wonder who lived in them and what they were up to. She had been here before when she'd gotten the appointment, but like the first time she'd walked in here, she couldn't get over the shock. The air seemed different. Peaceful. It didn't carry the burden of worried people—people worried about taxes or what to feed their families. Peace or comfort? She didn't know how not to confuse the two. Her watch read **11:55 p.m.** Five more minutes. She made another turn, and there she felt it. The domineering air only one building could carry. **Cross Manor.** As she came closer to the golden-black gates, her chest began to tighten. She shivered as she approached, her head bowed, too timid to face its judgment. With a sigh, she looked up at it. The building was urban like the rest, with a golden, black, and white color code that made it both invisible and outspoken in the neighborhood. None other she'd seen was like it. Just the thought of going in again... She would probably meet the suited man who looked at her the same way this building did now. He made her feel the same way. So many questions filled her mind. Were they all like that? It terrified her. And for a moment, in the stillness where only the sound of her heartbeat rang in her ears, she thought of going back. She, however, was already here. She needed the job. For her mom. Her younger sister. Herself. It was all she had. She couldn't afford to turn back. With a sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut and rang the doorbell.