When Love & Hate Collide [Completed]

Chapter 2 - The Background

"You need a special farewell from him?" She asked pointing her thumb towards Mr Fritz but he seem to be oblivious to any of our conversation.

"No.. Yes.. I mean.. I wasn't sure if I can leave...", I said but looking at Mr Fritz, who had taken a seat at the same couch where Greta was seated for most of the day, I added, "I am coming."

With that I picked up my bag and hurried behind her. There was something about the room which sort of frightened me making me not stay there another second in Greta's absence. I had no clue whether Mr Fritz had noticed me or not but today was not the day to find that out. It was my first day after all, I may be excused some of the shortcomings for the day.

Or so I thought without realizing what I had gotten myself into.

As I followed Greta out of the house, she called someone from her mobile phone to pick her up. Once her call was over, she decided walk with me till the main road since the person coming to pick her up would take some time to reach. She wasn't too happy about the walking and I felt as if her bad mood had got more to do with someone in that house than her walking with me but I decided not to say anything.

While waiting at the bus stop, she explained that this was the usual day like. Only thing fixed was the time they had to report to the house for work. Rest everything depended upon Mr Fritz. What they should do, when they should do, how they should do, if they should do anything at all. I was surprised to know that there were days when no work would get done.

Mr Fritz was very particular about his paintings and he needed everything as per his exact expectations. Any mis-match would throw him off his mood and then it was not possible to move forward in his work. And his frustration would find outlet in most weird and annoying ways. I was told, as much as possible, to be out of his way during such outbreaks.

Other than that, things were more or less easy as per Greta. She felt tied due to the ambiguity but said it was a small price for the freedom and independence she got at the place. Plus there was this added perks of free food and drinks whenever at the house. Not to forget the times when his mood would be peachy and high and those would be worth every other trouble with him. On top of everything, money was really good.

Yes, money was good, I acknowledged silently but I wondered if I would survive here long enough to witness one of those peachy times. Going by today's experience, Noberto Fritz was anything but easy.

We were still chatting when a car came to stop by at the bus stop. It was Greta's friend. As she was getting in, I could feel his eyes checking me out. They insisting dropping me to the city but I politely declined. It was too new to start accepting favours from others. Plus I didn't like the guy's look. After few attempts, they gave up and went on their way. The bus arrived in some time and I boarded it to be back home.

On the bus, I kept wondering about everything that I had learnt today. Noberto Fritz was a famous painter with a particular style that has made him a sensation in the art world and the sought after artist. He is thirty four. Uber rich with everything one could dream of, a large bank balance, enormous estate and rooms and rooms of family heirlooms. With both his parents dead and no siblings, he is the only survivor of the Fritz family. Having been found as a talent at a young age of twenty four, he had spent last ten years in fame, glamour and lots and lots of wealth.

His lifestyle, his choices, his likes, etc screamed of prosperity. He lived life recklessly, hell-bent on spending every penny his parents left for him. Still he had only managed to increase his fortunes multi-fold because of his uncanny talent of depicting beauty and sorrow on a canvas in the most soul-stirring way. His paintings have been placed in galleries, exhibitions along with the likes of Van Gogh, Monet, Picasso, Rembrandt, etc. It was an honour to be counted in that elite circle which he delightfully adorned and carried with aplomb.

Of course, his drop dead looks and devil-may-care attitude also had played its role in his success with society ladies who would openly flock after him. He was linked up with some celebrity or the other and had a list of break-ups to his record.

"Oh the man's personal likes, dislikes or his moral compass are no business of mine to worry. I need to just focus on my work and make the best of this opportunity", I told myself. From what I had seen today, it didn't appear so bad. There would be some difficult situations, for sure but which job came without any trouble. And it was definitely far more decent and worthwhile than the kind of jobs I had been doing till now.

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Being a waitress in the low end pub downtown or being the maid at Mrs Walker's place or being the pizza delivery for a local pizza outlet, I had tried it all. Considering that I had no proper formal education, didn't have a strong reference, nor my family had any contacts, I had had no choice but to take up those jobs to make whatever money I could.

Apart from having back-breaking schedules and work-till-you-drop-dead deadlines, there was absolutely no respect in any of these jobs. On top of that, there was always an eager boss or his/her nephew or colleague who was willing to help her but at a particular cost. And they usually didn't take easy to being told No, making life even more miserable than what it already was.

I would switch from one job to another hoping the next one won't be as bad as the last one but I was always let down. The frequent change over didn't even help in finding new jobs easily. People tend to avoid giving work to young girls who showed lack of sincerity and commitment because of their last job duration.

I had been waiting at the Late Nighter's pub the night I met Mr Clement. It was yet another disastrous night where a customer couldn't keep his hands to his table. When I resisted he had the nerve to complain to the owner and as it turns out he was a special customer. I was asked to 'play along'.

Walking out of the pub was a liberation as well as a boundation. Freedom from the depraved lot but struggling for money to pay for bills at home. The corrupt owner didn't even pay for the days he owed me. Standing at the dark corner, I was finding difficult to hold off my tears. I didn't know what to tell my sick father at home. How to feed him food and medicines when I had no money and was out of yet another job.

Life had looked like a series of failures. "Could it get any worse?" I had cried to myself. 

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Dear Lovely Readers,

I am back with the new chapter .. Hope you are liking the story..

Do let me know what you think about it..

I am dying to hear from you all..

Love,

Anna