November 1995
First day in a new job as a maid. Yesterday afternoon I received a call from one of the many employment agencies I sent my resume to.
Employee: Miss Morningstar, I'm calling from the employment agency. I have a job for you.
Mary: What is it?
Employee: A job for a housemaid. Judging by your resume, you are perfect for the job. The client wants a good-looking maid who can cook and knows how to clean properly. They offer food, accommodation, and a good salary.
Mary: Food, accommodation, and a good salary? I'm in.
I didn't think twice about that. My landlord is kicking me out because his daughter is getting married and she needs the house.
So, this morning I packed my bags, said goodbye to my big paper friend and started this new adventure that would change my life.
I knew nothing about my new employers. But something inside me, a strong hunch, made me confident that I would keep the job.
Now here I'm standing in front of my new home. It's a detached house in a suburb. I stayed there for a few minutes to look around. The garden in front of the house is large and empty. There is no furniture or other indication of who lives in the house.
The lawn is well mowed, but there are no leaves on the trees because it's winter. There is nothing but a black convertible Porsche 356 Speedster and a silver Suzuki Hayabusa.
So, now I know something about my new bosses. They are rich and know how to enjoy their lives. All right! Enough of the silliness. I walk up to the door and ring the bell.
A few seconds later, the door opens and a nice butler in his 40s appears on the threshold.
Mary: Good morning. My name is Mary Morningstar. I'm the new maid.
Homer: Good morning, Miss Mary. I am Homer, the butler. Please come in.
Mary: Thank you.
Homer steps aside and I enter the house. He takes my suitcase and coat from me.
Homer: If you would please wait in the lounge. I will tell Mrs. Firewood that you are here.
Mary: Thank you.
Homer leaves, leaving me alone in the lounge. I look around. This is definitely not a house where a family lives. It's too clean for that and there are no female touches either. Oh, my god! My new boss is a rich bachelor! Before I can panic, Homer returns with a petite and chic woman in her early 40s.
Homer: Mrs. Firewood, this is the girl I was telling you about. Miss Mary Morningstar.
Mariza: Thank you, Homer. Now please, Jace's breakfast is ready, so wake him up. While he's eating, get him ready.
Homer: It's a suicide mission, ma'am.
Mariza: My dear Homer, I am really sorry about that.
She giggles and looks at Homer.
Homer: Anyway. It's been an honor working for you. Goodbye!
WHAT THE HELL? WHO IS THAT GUY ? WHERE HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO AGAIN?
Homer leaves and Mariza sees the panic on my face.
Mariza: Don't panic, dear! It's just a family joke, nothing more. Let me introduce myself first. I am Mrs. Mariza Firewood.
A little shakily, I offer my hand to Mrs. Firewood and she shakes it.
Mary: Pleased to meet you, ma'am.
Mariza: Likewise, but now if you would please, take a seat.
I sit down on the couch and she sits down in the armchair.
Mariza: The agency sent me your resume and from what I can see, you are just the person. If it's alright with you, you can start right away. Homer will show you to your room and you will find your uniform there. He will also explain your duties and answer any questions you may have.
Everything around me seems threatening, frightening, out to get me. Under normal circumstances, I would have started running away screaming, but ...
Mary: Of course, Mrs. Firewood. I can't wait to get started.
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?
Mariza: Perfect. Come with me.
~ SOME TIME LATER ~
I am in the kitchen, wearing my uniform. Homer is there too and will not stop talking.
Homer: So, Miss Mary, let us take a look. As I was saying, you work for Mrs. Firewood's adopted son. His name is Jonathan Christopher Harronate, but everyone calls him Jace.
Mary: Mrs. Mariza doesn't live here?
Homer: No. She lives in a mansion with her husband George. I used to work there, but when Mr. Jace left, he asked me to work for him and I couldn't say no.
Mary: You love him so much, don't you?
Homer: I was the one who raised him after his parents died. I love him like a son. Just like the other two children in the family.
Mary: Did he lose his parents too?
Homer: Yes, his father was in a car accident and his mother died a month later from grief. Jace was fourteen years old at the time. George Firewood was his father's best friend and after that he adopted Jace. But you said too, why?
Mary: I also lost both my parents in a car accident when I was ten years old.
Homer: I am very sorry for you!
Mary: Thank you.
A tear ran down my cheek, but I wiped it away. I will not let myself sink back into sadness. At least not in front of other people.
Mary: Can you tell me something about Mr. Jace? What kind of person is he?
Homer: You haven't really heard anything about him?
Mary: No.
Homer: That's really strange, because at this moment he's the most eligible bachelor in town. Every now and then his name is in the papers and TV.
Mary: I didn't read the papers and I didn't have TV, where I used to live. I didn't have money to buy one.
Homer: I see. Anyway, Mr. Jace is a very fine young man. He's kind and generous. I don't say this because he's my boss, but you are very lucky to be working for him.
Mary: I hope so, because I really need the job. If something goes wrong, I'll be living on the street.
Homer: Don't worry about it. Nothing will go wrong with Mr. Jace.
Mary: What do you want me to do for him?
Homer: There is a team that cleans and tidies the house, but Mr. Jace doesn't want any of them to go into his bedroom, so you will. You will be the only person who has access to his room. You will clean, do laundry, iron, and also prepare his meals. Especially breakfast and dinner.
Mary: What about lunch?
Homer: He usually eats lunch in his office.
Mary: He works? And why is that?
Homer: He doesn't really work. He runs his own company. Have you heard of Harronate Corp?
Mary: Harronate Corp? Oh! The giant glass skyscraper downtown!
Homer: That's it!
Mary: He owns it?
Homer: Yes. He inherited the company from his father, but it was small. Mr. Jace is the one who turned it into a multinational company.
Mary: Wow!
Homer: To say the least. Whatever! Come on now. It's time for you to meet your new boss.
Homer and I walk up the stairs and stop in front of a closed door. He adjusts his uniform and surveys mine one last time. He raises his hand and knocks twice on the door. A few seconds later, a male voice is heard from behind the door.
Jace: Come on in!
I had read somewhere that there are some sounds that don't stay in your ears but go straight to your heart; like the sound of the ocean, the song of a nightingale, the laughter of a baby, the sound of rain. I had never heard any before. At least until now.
The voice behind the door pierced through my ears and settled deep into my heart. It was the most amazing and beautiful sound I had ever heard. Homer opens the door and we walk inside. The room is tidy and blends in perfectly with the style of the rest of the house.
My eyes roam nervously in all directions, searching for the owner of the voice that made my palms sweat and my heart pound. I spot him. He's standing in front of the window, his back to us, looking out. The only thing I noticed before Homer spoke was his firm shoulders and blond hair.
Homer: Mr. Jace, this is the girl I was telling you about earlier.
Jace spoke without turning around.
Jace: How many times do I have to tell you that I don't need or want a maid?
His voice made my heart beat faster once again.
Homer: Mr. Jace please! Your mother said...
Jace: I don't care what my mother said, Homer. I don't w-
At that moment, Jace turned around, but he stopped speaking and just stared at me. His golden-brown eyes stare right at me, forcing me to look at him so that I don't want to look anywhere else at this moment. Standing before me is a god! An ancient Greek god. Damn! I'm looking at Zeus! In his prime, but yes, Zeus!