Contract Marriage

Selene POV “Aaah!” I squeal out in joy as I race around the apartment, my phone in my hand. “I got it! I got it! I got it!” I continue as I rush to Elly, my best friend and roommate. “What? What? What did you get?” she asks as she turns to me in a panic. “I got the job at the Tryst Hotel!” “Really?! Do you mean the one you applied to as a maid? Congrats!” she says dryly. “Do you have to say it like that?” I ask with a pout. “I am sorry. I just don't see the reason you would be so ecstatic to be the maid of a bunch of rich, pompous, rude assholes.” “I am ecstatic because it means a source of income for me, finally. You know how big and renowned the Tryst Hotel is, the salary the maids are paid monthly would go a long way for us. And it is not like there are other companies or businesses just willing to give a dropout a job,” I argue as I take a seat. “Well, I suppose you do have a point. Still, the excitement is a little bit over the top. Why were you so insistent with the Tryst Hotel anyway? Apart from the generous pay,” she asks. “Oh, no reason. Just seemed like the best choice.” “You were a bit fanatic about it though. It was like it was either the Tryst Hotel or nothing. Are you sure you don't have another target in mind?” “Target? What target could I possibly have? You are watching too many Soaps, El,” I say as I get to my feet. “I am going to go get ready now, they want me in by eight. Fingers crossed I start working immediately.” “Good luck,” she calls as I walk away. “You are going to need it.” † “... and this is where you change for your shift, not any of the hotel bedrooms, okay?” Lisa, my supervisor says as she shows me around. “Why would I want to change in the bedrooms?” I ask, confused. “I don't know. You will be surprised by the weird things people get up to when they think no one is watching. So over here, is the employees’ dining area,” she continues as she leads me to a wide open space, where tables and chairs are arranged cafeteria style. “We provide two sets of meals for you. Breakfast and lunch, lunch and dinner, or dinner and breakfast, according to the time slot of your shifts. Do not-” “Eat in the guest's dining halls?” I supply with a smile which she returns with a chuckle. “Exactly. You are a sharp one, Seleene, I hope we have a good time together.” “Me too. And I am so grateful for this opportunity, I promise I won't disappoint.” “Let's hope so. So go change up now, your shift starts in thirty minutes. You are on the third and fourth floor.” “Got it,” I say as I rush to do so. Less than thirty minutes later, I am dressed in a short sleeve pastel gown that falls just a bit over my knees with a black waist apron tied above it. I am just on my way to the third floor when Lisa calls out my name. I turn to see her hurrying up to me, panting. “Good,” she pants. “I caught you just in time. “ “What is wrong?” “We have a VIP guest coming in an hour, and I need you to clean up the Empire suit for me.” “The Empire suit?! Me?!” I exclaim. “I know, I know. It is last minute, but all the other maids are occupied. Don't worry, you will get a hefty bonus for this. Come now, I will key you in, in the elevator.” “Key me in?” I ask as I follow her while pushing the cleaning trolley. “Some suits need special keys to access them,” she explains as the doors slide shut. “It is to ensure privacy for the guests.” “Huh. That is cool.” “Yeah, it is. Now remember, you have less than an hour now to do your thing and head out,” she says as she hands me a key card. “He must not meet you in the room.” “You sound so worried. Who is he? This guest.” “Fred Caster.” “Oh, I see.” “Have you heard of him?” “Who hasn't? Only son and heir of the Castor family who is the leading family in the influential business world. Most eligible bachelor and known as the Ice Prince of America.” “Yeah. Some rumors say he is gay because of the lack of information in his dating life,” she adds. “Maybe he is just a very private person,” I offer. “Hmm, I don't think so. He is never seen with any woman, he spends his time in his office, at home, or at the golf course. No women in sight.” “You seem very informed,” I remark. “The Tryst is the hotel he chooses when he can't go home. As a result, it is my business to know his likes and dislikes. Don't worry though, just do what you are told, make sure he doesn't see you and then you are good to go. Got it?” “Yes ma’am.” The elevator door slides open and I walk out and head towards the only door on the floor, key card in my hand. It is a stunning suite. Black marble floors, with cream colored walls and mostly glass furniture. The candle chandelier is decorated with glittering beads that twinkle with the fluorescent light, casting the whole room in a sophisticated warm light, plush, silk covered couches surround a low mahogany coffee table that sits on a plush monochrome carpet. “Man, it is good to be rich,” I mutter as I begin cleaning the suite. I have just finished with the glass based dining area when I realize that an hour is not going to be enough for me to clean everywhere. I am on my way to the bedroom to get that done when I hear the door click open. “... And make sure that all the directors are made aware of the meeting,” a deep maritime voice rings out. “I don't want any silly excuse for their absence.” “s**t. s**t. s**t,” I mutter quietly as I rush into the bedroom. “Now what?” “If that will be all sir, I will have your dinner brought up,” another voice adds. “Hmm, that will be preferred. Also, find out why Lisa wasn't around to show us in.” A few seconds later the door closes and a set of footsteps heads my way. Shit. Lisa wasn't around to lead them in, she probably didn't know he had arrived which is why I had no heads up. What do I do now?! I don't have time to think it through because at that moment the door to the room begins to turn open. “s**t!” Without a second thought, I whirl around and head to the first thing that looks good enough to hide me. A curtain. What a great idea! Mind the sarcasm. I hear the door swing open and the footsteps walk into the room only for it to be covered by a crashing sound. “what in the blazes?!” the voice snarls out. Oh no. I had forgotten the cleaning cart. “Who is here?!” the voice demands. I say nothing, too frozen in fear and shock to do anything. “I know someone is here! I just crashed into your cleaning cart. Come out!” With a reluctant sigh, I slowly step out from behind the curtain, revealing myself to what might possibly be my doom. “Good evening sir,” I greet. The man -the Fred Sloan- turns to look at me with the iciest pair of blue eyes I have ever seen. Great. Fired on the first day. What rotten luck.