housekeeper

2. Read regulations.

(Vanessa)

I arrive home to discover my best friend sprawled on the sofa. "So, did you snag the job?" Stephanie inquires.

"What do you think," I ask, struggling to hide my smile.

She looks intently into my eyes for a while until her lips form a smile.

"You have the job," she says with conviction.

"I have the job," I confirm.

"Wow, I'm so happy for you," she says, but then looks at me in surprise as the small smile on my lips disappears.

"Aren't you happy?"

"Yes, but," I reply, exhaling the weight of the world. I fling the hefty binder onto the coffee table and collapse beside Stephanie on the sofa.

"What's that?" she questions, eyebrows climbing a mountain of curiosity.

"The regulations."

"Since when do housekeepers need a manual?" she quips.

"Since the dawn of time, right? Even as a domestic worker, I've had rules to follow. But those rules could fit into that colossal folder four times over," I say with a sigh, gesturing towards the folder.

Stephanie leans in and flips it open.

"Haha, housekeeper regulations, authored by Mr. Dave Lavens. As his housekeeper, you're tasked with maintaining the residence at Tower Street 28. Wow, that's high-class area," she exhales. "The duties include... yada yada yada." She continues reading quietly, and I don't interrupt. She's studying law, so she's got a knack for contracts. "Wow, this outlines your responsibilities extensively, and it even dips into your personal life! No men allowed in the main house, nor in your quarters. And you can't borrow anything from his place for yours."

She chuckles heartily, tapping on the document.

I skim the text and playfully nudge my girlfriend's arm. "Don't worry, I have no plans to charm him. The last thing I want is a fling with a CEO who's always entangled with other women. Plus, I desperately need this job to repay you for letting me crash at your place."

"Vanessa, you know I'm fine with that. I'm just relieved you're not homeless. Ryan should be the one leaving, not you. He's the one who cheated. It's usually the cheater who leaves."

"I know, but it was his house. I didn't have many choices. Besides, I wouldn't want to stay there now. He's no longer my boyfriend, and she's definitely not my sister any more!"

"Consider it to be a golden ticket! You're not just earning more than you did as a domestic helper, but you're also living rent-free. It's like hitting the jackpot for most women to work for a star. And sure, when your sister gets the news, she might turn green with envy, but let's be honest, I'm also a tad envious. You've landed a job with one of Belgium's most eligible bachelors—heck. He's a catch by global standards!"

I chuckle as my friend furiously types his name into her laptop. "True, but it's going to be a lot of work. My 'me time' is about to become a rare luxury."

"Phew, just look at this man. How I would love to rub my hands through his black hair during a passionate, hot kissing session. And there you are, about to meet him in person. You're living the dream of many women."

"Wow, seriously? Show me." I nearly shout, my heart skipping a beat. He's quite the looker. In one snapshot, he's clad in a sharp blue suit that hugs his muscular frame, his slick black hair styled back with gel. He's the epitome of Italian charm, which makes sense given his heritage—I recall reading his grandfather from mother's side was Italian. The other photo captures his intense green eyes, flecked with brown around the iris. Stephanie smirks knowingly as I gape at her. "Off to the snack bar we go—to toast to your new gig?"

Over the following days, I'll be poring over the entire set of regulations, and there's a concern I might not retain it all. Thankfully, Stephanie has assisted in creating a work schedule, which makes managing that hefty folder more manageable. Nearly everything is packed; only a few articles of clothing and my daily essentials remain. I'm on the brink of embarking on this new adventure.