“That’s what I thought.” He laughs, untangling his fingers from my hair.
“You know where I live. You start tomorrow at ten in the morning. Do not be late or you will be punished.” He warns me. “Do you need me to arrange a driver to collect your things?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be there.” I say cautiously.
“Very good.” He murmurs, his voice running over me like melted butter. Hot melted butter.
He brushes his hand over my jaw and winks at me then just like that - he walks away.
Oh.
My.
Word.
My legs stop working and I quickly move back to the chair I was sitting in before.
This can’t be real. A salary like that? What does he really want me to do? Help him hide bodies? Scrub the blood of his mafia enemies off his carpets? Be his sex slave? Mm.
I can think of several things I would do for him without getting paid a damn cent.
Wow. My body is on fire and my mind is racing a million miles in every single direction.
I have a job.Living in a penthouse. I’ll be making enough money to get my mom a much nicer apartment and a new sewing machine and some beautiful fabrics. We can save though - because I know myself and I’m obviously going to mess this up in a few months - or weeks - or days. I sigh loudly.Let’s try not to fuck this up, Misha.
But if I’m getting paid that amount weekly - holy shit. We’re going to be ok for a while. All I have to do is not mess up. Right? I can do that. I’m sure I can.
When my laundry is done, I throw it into a basket and run home excited to tell my mom.
But as I get closer to the apartment, I realize that she will try to convince me not to take the job. It’s obvious he’s mafia. It’s obvious he is a criminal, and she will want me to have nothing to do with any of that. But I’m so tired of working these shitty jobs for no pay and being treated like scum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.
I decide to skim around the truth a bit.
As long as I can take care of her that’s all that matters.
“Mom.” I hurry into the apartment and dump my laundry onto the kitchen counter. “Guess what?” I say excitedly.
“Why didn’t you have it dried, honey? Did you run out of coins?” she frowns as she reaches in and picks up a pair of damp jeans.
“No, don’t worry about it I will hang it up over the bath.I got a job.” I say, jumping a little.
“You did? Oh, my word that’s amazing.” She picks up the laundry and starts carrying it to the bathroom. She doesn’t seem that interested in my job and based on my track record - can I blame her?
“Mom, I’ll do that. Listen, it’s a live-in job, housekeeping for one of the rich houses in the city.”
“Oh, so you’ll be required to stay there - full time?” she doesn’t even sound worried about being left alone.
“Yes, but I’ll still come visit.” I promise.
She laughs. “Misha, I’m not worried about whether or not you visit me - I’m worried about whether or not you managed tonotget fired in the first week.”
I roll my eyes and pick up my t-shirt, helping her hang the laundry on the ropes we have tied over the bathtub. “Mom, I’m not that bad.” I huff.
“Hmm,” She says, unconvinced.
“OK, fine. I don’t have the best track record. But the money for this one - it’s too good to mess up. There will be enough for monthly expensesand to save a bit.”
She stops, reaching out and wrapping her delicate fingers around my cheeks. “Sweetheart just stay out of trouble. Alright. That’s all I worry about.”
