Maid For Him / l.h ✔️

1

~Beyla's POV~

"Holy shit," I muttered as I peered up at the ginormous house in front of me. I wondered who lived here, and why the hell he needed to hire a maid from Craigslist of all places, which was where I had posted an ad in hopes someone would respond. And someone had, two weeks ago.

After the interview that the man had made me do over the phone, because he didn't want me having his home address unless I was for sure coming to work there, I had been hired. Although I really couldn't remember the man's name, he had offered me a pay of eleven dollars an hour instead of the twenty three he'd originally proposed. The only reason for that was because I had demanded to live there, which I understand is bold, but I had put that in my ad, to be fair. He knew what I required before he even called me. It wasn't like I had any other options, either.

"This is a big house." I quietly noted to myself as I walked up the long driveway. I hadn't expected to be working at such a large house, even though I'd been told it was a big one. I suppose I just wasn't really expecting a ginormous mansion like this. The driveway was long, but there were no cars parked in it, so I assumed they must've been stored behind the large garage doors. It seemed I was about to begin working for a man with a lot of money, judging by how fancy the outside of the house was. It was two stories and even a balcony on the upper left of the front of the house, with two wide glass doors that led out to it. Some part of me hoped I'd get to stay in that room, if it wasn't already taken. I'd never actually even seen a balcony in person, much less had I been on a balcony before.

When I reached the door, I stood on the incredibly clear porch and my hands trembled anxiously, all of my bags sat around me on the ground. I was feeling nervous. What if he didn't like the way I did something and I ended up getting fired?

Letting out a soft huff, I smoothed a hand through my dark brown hair, making sure it wasn't messed up in the slightest. I had purposefully done my hair in nice loose curls and wore something nice, hoping to make a good impression on my new boss. I didn't want to just show up with no makeup, dressed in my pajamas as if I was here to do anything other than work for the man. I didn't want him to think I was unprofessional, or perhaps something even worse.

Eventually I managed to summon the courage to knock on the door and I waited patiently as I heard the sound of footsteps approaching from inside the house, growing louder as they headed towards the door. I straightened my spine and stood tall, forcing my face into a calm and poised expression so as to not look like I was about to shit myself any second because of how nervous I was. Cleaning wasn't new to me, but this was my first ever job. I'd only just graduated high school and then gotten kicked out of my mom's house no more than a month after, on claims that I was an adult now and should be able to handle myself. I'd never had a job, so I had no money, which led me to staying with my best friend while I had tried to figure out where to get a job.

The door flung open, snapping me directly out of my thoughts as my brown eyes met crystal blue ones. I couldn't help but to be surprised at the rather young looking man that greeted me, my brows furrowing slightly as I stared up at him. He was easily over six foot and maybe in his mid twenties with a set of broad shoulders and pretty curls that glowed golden as the sunlight shone past his figure into his house, highlighting the strands. His jaw was strong and littered with little bits of stubble while his lips were pink and plump, with a straight nose that I knew many people would die for and beautiful blue eyes. When I had knocked on the door, this was not the man I was expecting to greet me when he opened it. This man was deadly beautiful!

"Hi." I forced myself to spit out, giving him a smile that I hoped didn't show just how nervous I was actually feeling. He just stared down at me, a flat look on his face, and I wondered for a moment if I was even at the right house. Surely this was the address, right? "My name is Beyla." I introduced myself to him, waiting for him to say that he knew who I was and what I was talking about. But still, he just stared down at me some more. It was quite uncomfortable. "We...We spoke on the phone. I'm the maid...?" I kept trying, looking up at him as I managed to keep my patience.

"I know who you are, Ms. Verdine." He said, staring down at me with his arms crossed over his rather broad chest, reminding me that I had told him my full name over the phone. He had insisted on it, actually. I zipped my lips shut and gave a light nod of my head as I peered up at him, not wanting to say anything more without feeling like he wanted me to. With my luck, I'd say something stupid and make a fool out of myself.

"My name is Luke, but you will call me either Sir or Mr. Hemmings. Either is fine with me, so the choice is up to you." He said, making me gently nod my head. "Do you understand, Ms. Verdine?" He asked, cocking up a single brow. Again, I nodded my head at him. "Yes, I understand, sir." I responded politely. He eyed me for a moment longer and then looked down at the bags that surrounded my legs on the porch. "I can show you to your room. Do you need help carrying those?" He asked, gesturing down to my bags. I glanced down at the bags and quickly shook my head, giving him a small smile when I looked back up at him. "That's alright, I can handle it. Thank you, sir." I said, gathering up my bags in my hands and under my arms, holding them closely to myself. He hummed simply in response and stepped to the side, gesturing for me to come inside with his hand. I quickly walked inside, making sure to not hit any of my bags on the frame of the front door, and heard the door swing shut behind me when he quickly closed it after I was inside.

Mr. Hemmings looked down at me as I stood patiently beside him, waiting quietly for my instructions on what to do. He eyed me closely for a moment and then looked away, turning around towards a large set of stairs. "Follow me, Ms. Verdine." He murmured, already beginning to walk away.

Wanting to catch up, I hurried after him, my bags softly hitting against my calves as I walked. It hurt a little because my bags were so full, but it was no big deal. I marveled at the large beauty that was his house, in awe that I was even allowed to set foot in such a beautiful home, much less work here. This man must have been very rich, judging by his home, and I couldn't help but to wonder what exactly he did for a job. Whatever it was, clearly he was good at it or he certainly wouldn't be paid enough to afford a place so extravagant.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but you have a very pretty home, sir." I complimented as I followed up the stairs. His long legs put him at an easy advantage as he took two steps at a time, getting ahead of me rather quickly, which left me to straggle behind him in a hurried struggle with my bags.

Just like before, Mr. Hemmings simply murmured an acknowledgement and then began down the hallway, with my wobbly legs rushing right after him. He led me down the hall for a good two minutes before he stopped at a white door and looked down at me as I stopped just beside him, my arms shaking as I struggled to hold my bags any longer. I knew he noticed because there was a cruel amusement in his eyes for a split second, but then he went back to looking rather indifferent, unimpressed. "This will be where you'll stay." He said, opening the bedroom door for me and stepping to the side so I could get past him.

And I rushed past, dumping all of my bags onto the floor at the foot of the bed, letting out a soft huff of relief that my aching arms no longer had to carry those bags. They were too heavy. I wasn't even sure how I had managed to carry them, to be honest. "Thank you." I said, straightening my hair as I turned around to face him again.

The large man looked even larger in the doorframe, standing directly in the middle with his blue eyes on me while his arms were crossed securely over his chest. He completely disregarded my thanks and said, "I'll let you have the rest of today and tomorrow to yourself so you may settle in, but you begin work on Monday morning. Seven AM sharp, Ms. Verdine." He stated, to which I obediently nodded my head and smiled my best smile. "Thank you." I said again, and he ignored it, again. "How about I show you around, if you are in the mood for it?" He offered, somehow managing to make a perfectly friendly sentence sound clipped and formal. I was beginning to think this man was a professional through and through.

Still, I smiled, grateful to be here nonetheless. "That sounds great!"