THE INTERVIEW
969 Words
CHAPTER THREE
AUGUST
No one had been inside the Loz feliz glass mansion before. We only imagine how it was.
It wasn't just big, it was offensively big. The kind of house that could make you feel poor even from a distance.
The Uber dropped me at the front entrance. As I stepped out, I was faced with towering gates climbing into the sky. The gates gleamed under the sunlight.
I came very early. You wouldn't come late to a one-thousand-dollar weekly paid job. But suddenly, my black tank top felt extravagant. Like I’d shown up at a funeral in a crop top.
The gates opened like they were motion-sensitive. It was smooth, creepy, and Expensive.
It felt like someone was watching me. I turned around to look but the gate was already closed.
Then I heard footsteps, and I turned back around to look.
A man stepped out from the drive, he was tall, his shoulders were broad, built as though he could push a bus without breathing. His suit was well-tailored, the perfectly handmade type. The expensive kind.
His jawline was sharp, sharp enough to cut glass.
Levi Slate.
I remembered his face from the picture that popped up yesterday. The stone-cold, strict right-hand assistant to the city's biggest billionaire, Lucien Hale.
He looked even colder than the pictures. I was lost in admiration, I hadn't realized he was already an Inch away from me.
“Mr August” his voice was deep, and low snapping me from my thoughts. “You're quite early”.
I forced a chuckle.
“You know what they say about the early bird”.
He stared blankly like he was clueless about what I was saying.
“Early bed gets the worm?” I said.
“What worm?” he asked.
“Come on, even a two-year-old knows that” I replied.
His gaze stayed on me too long scanning my face.
“Follow me”
I walked behind him into the house.
Inside the mansion was a beauty to behold. It was filled with towering glass and steel. I caught my reflection in the side of my eye, and each step echoed. I turned back to see I had strayed away from Levi.
I walked back to him. He's steps were calculated, like it was a routine.
He led me into a room that could have been an art gallery had the furniture been worth more than my debt.
“Sit,” he said, he's face not leaving the Tablet in his arms.
I was sitting.
“I presumed you're smart, so by now you should've understood why discretion is required.” He said.
“Yes sir. Discretion is my middle name. Well not legally, but it could be.” I said, giving him a wide smile revealing my dentition.
He's jaw twitched, not a smile, not a frown, not even a glint of emotion in his eyes.
His eyes moved to the rings on my fingers, then he traced my clothes, then his eyes moved back to the tab.
“You'll be faced with the responsibility of maintaining this property.” he continued. “Cleaning, cooking, and making sure the house is in order at all times. You have access to some areas, and some you don't. “
The last part was emphasized.
“What if, just what if I wander into the wrong part? I smiled.
“You won’t” his tone was flat.
It was not a threat, it was a fact.
He handed me the tablet. “Sign it”
The contract was ridiculously long, filled with a lot of legal advice. Well, a thousand dollars wouldn't just come without agreement.
I signed it anyway, giving him back the tablet.
Our hands brushed, and I felt goosebumps all over my body.
Our eyes locked for a moment, but he withdrew clearing his throat.
“You can start tomorrow, but that is if it gets approved. “ he said. Walking away.
I furrowed my brows” if”
He stopped midway, turning to face me again.
His gaze moved from my head to my toes again. “ Do you always dress like this?” he asked, raising one of his brows.
“What? Do you have a problem with it?”
“Not that,” he said sounding unsure.
“If this is your way of telling me I look sexy, thank you. I have more at home. This is my most decent clothes.” I replied.
He's face moved, like he wanted to smile then he moved his face away.
“I’ll inform Mr Hale and I’ll get back to you,” he said almost at the entrance of the house.
“When do I get to meet Mr Hale?” I asked.
“You don't .” his tone was flat.
“At least tell me what he's like. I mean, he might become my employer.” I said.
“Private. I am your Employer.”
“So I don't get to see him?” I asked, pushing on.
“ Have a nice day, August” he replied.
“You too, Slate,” I said.
“You know, if you're going to keep eye f*****g me, you might as well buy me dinner,” I smirked.
He scoffed. “I’ll contact you with a decision.”
The gate clicked shut.
I walked down, feeling the sun burn my skin. I had zero money on me and this job was the only thing I had left. I hope he reaches out.
My phone vibrated. I opened it to see another anonymous message.
“You look Good in there. You'll look better under me.”
What is this? This person wanted to play kinky?
I'm a diva at this game. May the best player win.
- Writer
