4| Lana

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Salad. Salad. Salad.

Oh my freaking God.

There was no salad. Jeez. He needed his salad asap. I couldn't prep and make another salad in like zero seconds and send it to him. Okay think Lana. Think. I couldn't pick out the ingredients carefully again because it'd take hours. Fuck.

Just fucking think.

" Grocery store." I grinned. I ain't loosing my job over this. I rushed out the mansion. Luckily the grocery store was two blocks away. I had never run that fast in my entire life, even if my life depended on it.

We've had salad from the grocery store countless times and they weren't that bad. They were fresh and okay to me.

I tore open the plastic bowl and hastily fixed a bowl for him. Once I was done I tossed it into the trash and got a fork and some napkins. Everything had his intials on it.

RC

I took a deep breath and balances the tray in my shaky hands.

Once at the door, I heard faint talks, before knocking at the door.

" Come in." He answered.

I carefully pushed the door open and I was met with the the largest book shelves I'd ever seen. His study was larger than my entire community, with the books neatly tucked away whilst him and Ferrel were seated opposite eachother, by the large mahogany desk. I gulped when I realized he was watching me.

" Mr Campbello, your salad," I placed the tray infront of him. He scanned the bowl and then his eyes met mine.

I looked away but my gaze caught that of Ferrell who had a quizzical look on his face.

" So as I was saying," Ferrell started. I began to walk towards the door.

" Where did you get this salad, Miss Rhoades?" I paused at the door. I turned around.

" I made it, Mr Campbello," I lied. I bought it so I made it, in a way, just it didn't take my hands.

He looked me in the eye, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists on the desk.

Ferrel sighed, giving me, you fucked up look.

" Where did you get this salad, Miss Rhoades!" He yelled, sweeping the glass bowl away, it shattered on the floor.

I winced from fear, " I --I, Mr Campbello,"

" Stop stuttering it's making me mad!"

" The list has specific ingredients you're supposed to use, why the hell does my salad have beets!" I jumped colliding with the door.

Tears threatening to fall down my face. I was shaking terribly. I didn't mean to upset him this much.

" Roxine, calm down," Ferrel interfered.

" I am sorry Mr Campbello, I accidentally spilled the salad. I didn't mean to ," I stuttered, tears staining my cheeks.

Don't cry you stupid idiot.

" Why do you keep making mistakes?!" He scolded.

" I don't actually blame you, your generation ask Google everything."

" Roxine," Ferrel barked.

" What?, I'm telling the truth, I don't know why that agency sent me a fucking child!"

I couldn't contain my sobs, as the escaped my pursed lips.

" I-- I am sorry Mr Campbello, please,". He narrowed his eyes at me.

" Please don't fire me, I need this job, I need,"

" Then stop acting like a kid. Take your responsibilities seriously or I'll fire you." He snarled.

I nodded, " Clean this mess up."

He stormed out of the study, a whiff of his manly rare cologne filled my stuffed nostrils.

" I'm sorry, Lana." Ferrell rushed after him. I nodded, wiping my tears as I walked towards the mess.

" You should have read the ingredients, Lana, you're so stupid."

I sniffled.


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