The doorbell rang and I gulped, adjusting the white collared dress I was wearing. Father always expected everyone to wear white clothes, since white symbolised cleanliness and purity. I'd asked Joanna, Margaret, and Clairvoyant, three maids that I had sent on holiday, to come back. Zupito, the chef, had also come back from his honeymoon with my chambermaid, London. I'd also re-hired my Puerto Rican driver, Benzo.
I quickly smeared on a strawberry scented lip balm and went down the stairs. Joanna and Clairvoyant stood next to the main door, one holding a tray of hot towels and the other holding a tray of assorted fruit. I give them a thumbs up. I walk over to Joanna, an eighteen year old brunette and tell her to offer a towel to my father first. I smile at both of them and then compose a straight face. The two things Father hated were smiles and anything imperfect. The doorbell rings again and I panic, knowing how he hates tardiness.
I open up the door to see Max and a tall man with thick, brown hair and sunglasses, dressed in a suit. The man steps inside and takes off his sunglasses, revealing green orbs. He looks around, inspecting everything. Every aspect of my home, clothes, and even food was going to be judged. The man looks at me, not a hint of happiness etched on his marble face.
"Father," I say formally, greeting him like one would do to a boss. He looks all the way from my white Chanel kitten heels to my straightened out hair. I gulp in anticipation of what he's going to say.
"Lizeth. You have changed," He says, his voice impassive and monotone. Well, it's been almost two years since you visited, Father. I keep the words to myself, knowing better than to piss him off.
"Thank you?" I say, but it comes out as more of a question. My father, for a man in his mid-forties, is the type of gentleman one would call attractive. Wherever he'd go, he would attract a lot of female attention. It was disgusting to watch since he was my father, but he never hooked up with anyone.
Joanna approaches my father and offers him a towel.
"A towel, Sir?" She asks politely. Father nods and takes a towel from the tray in her dainty hands.
"Christopher," My father says.
"Huh?" Joanna quickly corrects herself,"Pardon?"
"I meant you can call me Christopher," He says, his facial expression unmoving. Max walled over to Clairvoyant and grabs an apple, throwing it in the air and catching it. He winks at Clairvoyant and she looks down, her face flushed. I roll my eyes at the flirt.
"Maxim," my father says sternly, "We are going to our separate rooms." Father turns away from us and takes out his phone. He marches up the stairs and disappears into a hallway he had become familiar with two years ago. I turn to Max.
"So, Lizzy," Max says, looking me up to down,"Do we get to share a room?" I scoff and hear Claire and Joanna giggle. Max mock pouts and turns to Claire.
"I'll be needing a little help unpacking, so I can expect you to come to my room later this evening, right?" Max says flirtatiously. Claire nods and walks away, her ginger hair swaying. She turns around, her green eyes twinkling. Claire blushes before saying, "I'll see you later, Max."
I'm surprised at her flirtatious tone, but I'd already guessed they had done a few things when Max visited with Father two years ago. Max walks into the kitchen, following Claire, probably to flirt some more. Poor Zupito! He'd have to bear with their conversations. Joanna excuses herself to the maids' quarters and I sigh, once again all alone. I remember I left the door open and shut it, leaning against the door frame with a sigh.
*-*-*
The doorbell rings at about 7p.m. while Father, Max, and I are having supper. Normally, I'd have diner at around nine, but Father always wanted to have things his own way. I excuse myself from the table and Father looks up at me, setting down his spoonful of mushroom risotto. I walk over to the front door, swinging it open. Celine, Tyler, Miller, and Alessia stand there and I face palm at their timing. Alessia and Tyler already know Father, and he had once told me he approved of them. Miller and Celine, however, may be a problem.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/100231778-288-k704732.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
Little Miss Not-So-Perfect
Teen FictionThey say one never forgets their first love. It's true they're always in your heart, but they're usually not in your arms. What happens when your first true love finds a new attraction? You can always be happy for your first love, but what about whe...