By Any Means Necessary

1

Tugging at the beanie Amelia self consciously pulled it further down her forehead, right up to the rim of her wide-framed sunglasses.  The sun wasn't bright enough to warrant shades and neither was it cold enough for a beanie. She refused, however, to risk being recognized.

For added coverage, she pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up over her head and slouched her shoulders down from the proud stature she normally walked with. She was a sight to behold as she exited her vehicle nervously looking around like the paparazzi  was laying in wait, ready to jump out and memorialize her fall from grace.

Amelia Elizabeth Stanton of the Bridgewater Stantons, daughter of business tycoon Richard Stanton, granddaughter of the late Edward Stanton III who at 15 years old had wooed the young wife of an ailing vintner and amassed a fortune only to abandon her and marry his long time love, was getting a job. As a maid. That late in the semester all the good work study jobs were taken and what was left was too in the limelight for here taste.  The job she'd accepted had randomly popped up and the fact that her employer required the same discretion she needed was perfect.

She was a little put off by having to sign a non disclosure agreement (NDA) before even getting the address to her work location. NDAs were all too common in her world, so she let it slide. Now standing on the porch of the rickety rundown two story that had seen better days, she didn't know what all the fuss was about.  Maybe she was working for some socialite slumming it just as she was, whatever the case she was happy to keep her mouth shut.

She sucked in a deep breath, taking a moment to face the inevitable, and knocked on the door. After a few moments she was greeted my the most mesmerizing blues eyes she'd ever seen. She was seconds from bolting. She absolutely would not be a maid for a white man. What were the odds, attending an historically black college and finding a job working for probably the only white man on campus. The Stantons were proud black folk, marched and stood for equality, held their heads high in circles where their kind wasn't accepted, and owned fields in which their ancestors were once enslaved to maintain. And every last one of them must've rolled over in their grave at the sight of the man standing before her.

Her leg shook as they eyed each other , her pride trying to make her bolt and wisdom reminding her this was her only hope to break free from my father's control.

"Who the hell are you, the Unibomber?" Blues smirked and Amelia rolled her eyes.  Although the serial killer terrorized the U. S. decades ago, every American was familiar with the name and the single police sketch blasted across every news channel.

Without a word Amelia did an about face  and walked  away.

"Excuse me Ms. Stanton."

Amelia was stopped by a firm hand to her elbow and a voice so delicious she spun around to find its source.  A perfect set of teeth sparkled at her, encased in a beautiful lush set of lips. She had a lip fetish she refused to apologize for it. And his were spectacular. Blues eyes was forgotten and in his place was a chocolate sculpture whose voice alone mad her forget she was the hired help.  All at once she rose to the stature of the woman she was raised to be and pulled the glasses from her face, a slow smile spreading across her lips.

"Please forgive Ian. We've yet to convince him that comedy isn't his strong suit. Please come in and let me explain the work you were hired to do."

Never had her fire ever been doused so quickly.  She slammed her shades back on nearly taking an eye out and  followed the chocolaty goodness into his dilapidated house.