Most people have jobs, which consume most of our lives. We work five days a week just to have two days off-if we’re lucky. I, on the other hand, work from 6 am to 7 pm, Mondays to Saturdays. Sometimes, I start work earlier and sometimes finish later, but my boss is lenient and often gives me most Saturdays off or other days during the week.
Now, you might be wondering what my seemingly consuming job is. As tiring as it is, it comes with good pay, which I’m very grateful for. With ever-growing expenses and my attempts to start up my business, desperation drives me to endure this demanding but well-paid job.
Most people think my job is a dream that I get to lay around in a big house all day and do nothing. That is where they are mistaken. My job as a personal assistant for the Romano family asks for much more than that.
My 19 year old ass manages almost everything for the wealthy family, from booking flights and organizing events to ensuring the house is clean and dinner is sorted. When I say that the Romano family is wealthy, I mean I work in a large mansion I still don’t know my way around, and have to deal with millionaire problems, such as, ‘Where should I park my La Ferrari Aperta on my Lamborghini yacht?’
Don’t get me wrong-my job does sound wonderful, and it is, especially with my boss John. He is nearly fifty and not like those rich people you see in TV shows who are spoiled, mean, and immature. Mr Romano is kind and genuinely humble. I enjoy working for the old man. He tells me most of his problems, and I tell him most of mine. Plus, he helps me with my business aspirations in opening up my own brand of clothing.
I haven’t worked here long- just under a year- but it feels like I’ve known the man and his staff for ages, except for-
“LILAH! Can you come here real quick?!” That would be John, aka Mr. Romano.
“Yes, sir. How may I help you?”
“Well, Lilah, my son is coming home from university tomorrow. I need you to prepare his room in the East wing, along with the rest of his rooms. Just make sure everything is clean and ready for his arrival. Oh, and there is no need to book a ride home for him; he will arrive in the private jet at our airport and use one of the cars there.”
Whoa, I’ve never been in the East wing before. I’ve never needed to, and I’ve never met Mr. Romano’s son before either.
“Yes, sir. Do you need anything else?”
“Yes, please refrain from calling me ‘sir’ and use ‘John’ instead. Calling me ‘sir’ makes me feel like I’m working all the time.”
“Got it, John.” With that, I’m off to the East Wing.
*
I’m done cleaning the East wing, and boy, was it quite the mission. Mr. Romano’s son clearly did not know how to keep the place tidy during his last visit.
Well, I’ve got to hand it to him; although he couldn’t keep the massive place clean, he does have a good eye when it comes to the design of the place. I have to say, I was I was taken aback when I walked in here through the dark double doors. The space is modern, with every room featuring its own unique flair.
Take the kitchen, for example. The modern white Italian marble contrasts beautifully with the dark cabinets, which have a cool sliding mechanism to open it, that enhances the contemporary feel and adds to the modern-day theme.
Other than the kitchen, this guy’s room has quickly and easily become favorite. It felt like a scene straight out of a fantasy novel.
The dark wooden flooring paired with rich gold and green accents crate a stunning atmosphere. From the green plant in the gold pot to the recovered books in his small corner library – each bound in gold and green – everything matches perfectly.
The bedroom is gorgeous, featuring a huge, comfy bed. How do I know it’s comfy? Well, I couldn’t resist the urge to flop down onto the bed and sprawl my limbs across the plush comfoter.
If I get into the details of the rest of the East wing, let alone the rest or the bedroom, we’d be here for days – though part of me wouldn’t mind at all.
Just as I’m exiting the bedroom, a small voice exclaims, “Shit!” It turns out I’ve bumped into a woman – well, more like a midget considering her very short height.
“Um, hi,” I say, trying to be polite and figure out who the midget is. She looks up at me after rubbing her nose, and I recognize her as one of the new staff members. Apparently, she crashed her nose straight into my chest.
“H-hey,” she stammers, turning bright red. Oh, she is definitely not supposed to be here.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to sound accommodating to ease her embarrassment.
Well, the embarrassment doesn’t last long because she looks me straight in the eyes with a huge grin now plastered to her face, and that only means one thing. She is going to start yapping.
“Well I’m Susan, and I’m new here, but I’m part of the staff,” thought so “and I was wondering if James has returned yet, so I could ‘accidentally’ stumble upon him and end up giving him my number, because he’s super hot and – oh wait, OMG, is he here? Did he hear me? Are you his girlfriend?! Oh no, wait, I never knew he had a girlfriend. I’m so sorr- “
“Wait, whoa, slow your roll midget, I mean Susan. I am not anybody’s girlfriend, and I have no clue who James is. He is definitely not here because I am the only one who’s supposed to be in this wing.” She gives me a side-eye and a pout, probably cause I called her midget out loud. Well, it doesn’t hurt to be direct.
“Sorry, I got this job because I heard James would be here, and I really wanted to lose my V to that hot God.”
“I did not need to know that. Also, by the way, you’re fired.”
“WHAT! YOU CAN’T FIRE ME! Who gives you the right to do that? You’re just some -“
“High positioned personal assistant for Mr Romano and the Romano family. May I suggest if you ever wished to see your lovely James or see anything at all, then you should escort yourself off this property immediately,” I clarify things up for the now fuming midget, and give the look that says, ‘I’m incharge and have all the power here.’ With that, the midget storms out of this wing and far, far away from here and out of my hair.
*
It’s been a long day, and I’m glad it’s finally over. Preparing for the prodigal son’s return has been nothing but exhausting. Now, all I want to do is some me-time to unwind before I go to bed.
I pull out a chilled bottle of crisp white wine from my mini fridge and step out onto the balcony overlooking the grand pool. The view is stunning from up here, with lush hills cradling the mansion, shielding it from the outside world, shielding it from the outside world. Behind me lies a thick forest that stretches for miles in all directions. While just a few minutes away, the ocean beckons-perfect for a delightful picnic on the beach.
I forgot to mention that I live in a beautiful penthouse attached to the mansion. It’s a mix between an apartment and a house. The architecture and design are beautiful, althoughit cant compare to the East Wing. I have a small kitchen featuring an island large enough to serve as a dining room table. There is a separate dining room table able to seat eight more people. The view from the dining room overlooks the forest and the streams running down the hill, creating a unique landscape of forest dry and wet ares throughout the forest.
(credits to pinterest)
This section of the penthouse is the only one with a view of the enchanting fantasy forest-a place I’m not too familiar with. I once got lost during a walk there. The rest of the penthouse is simple but cozy, with a neat dark gray couch arranged near a medium-sized flatâ€screen TV, seemlessly mounted into the wall a few meters away from the kitchen. The space feels open yet warm, combining comfort with an understated style.
The stairs are not too far from the main area, tucked behind the kitchen, made of hard wood that creaks every other step.
Upstairs, there are a few rooms, including the bedroom with a queen-sized bed and, of course, my trusty mini-fridge. A dresser with a round mirror framed by fairy lights sits against one wall, adding a soft glow. The built-in cupboards stand out with their glossy finish, a striking contrast to the rest of the room, yet the colors pull everything together seamlessly.
And then there’s the balcony, where I am now with my half-finished bottle of wine.
Sitting on the swinging couch, I think about the encounter with the midget earlier and what she said to me. In my current state of mind-especially with the wine – it’s funny, mich funnier now that I’m tipsy.
After stumbling back inside from the balcony, lost in my many thoughts, I decided it’s time to call it a night. I set the wine sown on my bedside table, flop onto my queen-sized bed, and as soon as I hit the mattress, I’m out cold.
>>>
And that’s the first chapter done!
Don’t worry, that’s just the intro. It gets better.
Can’t wait for the prodigal son to arrive (;
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