Every Teen Romance Ever

Maid for the Millionaire (1/3)

The other girls and I walked single file onto the stage, my eyes only on the floor or on the back of the girl in front of me. Our footsteps were loud in the otherwise quiet room, and I held bated breath. Everyone loved to glamorize selling young women, and now it was my time to shine.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and other creepy adults, I present to you this year's Young Adult Auction. Each girl will introduce themselves, and after they all finish, bidding will begin. The girls' values of course are priceless, but we're gonna put a price tag on em anyway and say the starting the price is $1,000. Thank you and God bless modern day slavery. May the richest and least compassionate person win!"

At this, all of us finally looked up and into the crowd. The majority of them were wealthy men, looking for servants or sex. I prayed I wouldn't be used for the latter.

I tuned out the other girls' memorized introductions, having heard them rehearse it a hundred times before. My eyes continue to wander aimlessly among the crowd until I laid eyes on the most handsome man I had ever seen. He ran one hand through his slicked-back black hair, two dark peanut-shaped eyes intensely gazing ahead. His stubble caressed his prominent jaw, and he had a hooked nose, probably so he could go fishing. I wondered what such a fine young man was doing in this sexist establishment.

"Mikayla Hampton."

I drew my eyes away from the man to the auctioneer, startled back into what was happening. I immediately launched into my speech. "Hi, I'm Mikayla. I'm seventeen and a senior in high school. My interests include writing, watching Star Wars movies, and wishing I wasn't here. I'm willing to provide maid services to my highest bidder...assuming someone here actually bids for me," I "accidentally" added, and the crowd erupted like a volcano into a fit of giggles. I found the hot guy in the crowd again. He was smiling at me, and I could feel it in my head, shoulders, knees, and toes.

The auctioneer began the bidding, and I went back to being terrified, knowing my entire fate laid in the hands of one of the men in front of me. I wondered who would bid for me....

After the girls in front of me were all assigned to their doom, the auctioneer said my name and I gazed at the crowd. To my complete shock, almost twenty hands shot in the air, including (surprise, surprise) the hot guy. I could feel a smile playing tug-of-war with my lips.

The auctioneer asked the first person that raised their hand, an old man with silver hair and a crooked smile, what he would like to bid, and the man said $2,000. The auctioneer continued to ask each person, and they kept doubling their bids. I wondered what had drawn them to my average-but-kind-of-a-supermodel looks.

It was now the hot guy's turn, and he had to top an offer of $20,000.

"What would you like to bid, Mr. Dickinson?"

"One million dollars," He said solemnly, and I could hear everyone in a five-mile radius gasp at his ludicrous offer. Even I stared wide-eyed at him, wondering if he was sane.

Nobody else raised their hand because they were broke. I officially belonged to Mr. Dickinson.

*****

Mr. Dickinson's chauffeur loaded my luggage into the trunk while I shook hands with Mr. Dickinson. He was even more handsome up close, if that was even Kim possible.

"The name's Richard Dickinson, but I usually go by Rich Dick. I'm twenty-five, which makes our age difference eight years, but I'm a hot guy so I'm still a potential love interest. Are you hungry?"

"N-no sir," I replied.

"Okay. Let's go straight home then, shall we?" He said with a wink, and I couldn't help but smile. I had been expecting an uptight, degrading boss, and Rich Dick was actually kind of nice. I sat in the back while Rich sat in the passenger seat, and we drove away from my home for the last seventeen years. I didn't feel any emotions.

We arrived at a Hampton Inn hotel, and I stared at it, puzzled. "Are we staying here, sir?" I asked Rich.

He and the chauffeur both chuckled. Yeah, I was pretty funny. "I own it, sweetie," He explained. "Why else would I pay a million bucks for a basic white girl? Your last name is Hampton, and you'll be working for The Hampton Inn. Isn't it perfect?"

I smiled. "I dig it." The men both laughed again at my comedic genius.

I offered to take my bag upstairs, but Rich insisted the chauffeur do it. He took my hand and led me inside.

Every inch of the hotel looked like it was right off a Pinterest board, with DIY decor, 5-minute quick and easy recipes listed at the bar, and mannequins wearing trendy outfits the cost of a house mortgage. Rich led me to the cleaning room in the back, where two janitors were already vacuuming. Rich tried to tell me something, but I couldn't hear him over the vacuum noise. Suddenly, he pulled me into a vacant bedroom.

"There, now you can hear me," He said suggestively. I sat on the edge of the bed as he explained the chores I would be doing here, including making the beds, vacuuming the carpets, and falling in love with him. I figured I could handle it and asked him what my pay would be.

"Hm, since you're new, I'll pay you ten dollars a minute and housing here is free."

"Are you fucking insane??" I said, then covered my mouth to pretend I didn't mean to say that.

Rich just chuckled. "I probably am." Then he checked me out like a library book. "We'll have you fitted for your uniform, and you can begin the household work tomorrow. Tonight, free drinks on me."

I smiled. "Thank you."

"No problem," Rich said. Just then, a knock came at the door. It opened to reveal another hot guy since average-looking guys don't exist these days. He had green eyes the color of fresh mold and teeth as white as Trump supporters.

"Hey sir, should we begin setting up dinner in the dining hall? It's six o'clock," The random guy asked.

Rich nodded, but the random guy then glanced at me and smiled. "New here? I'm Jake," He said, holding out his hand.

I smiled and shook it in return, feeling my heart jump like it was wearing moon shoes when our fingers intertwined. "Mikayla."

Rich cleared his throat, already getting jealous by our ten seconds of conversation. "Please set up dinner now," He said sternly. I was about to follow Jake out off the room, but he grabbed my wrist and I pulled back. "You will be helping me at the front desk." I nodded, a little disappointed that I couldn't talk more to Jake but not wanting to disobey orders. So I got to work.