Chapter 1- Caught in the Act

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I never felt so small in front of one house. This place made my house seem like a studio apartment. I stared up at the columns as I stood near one of the lion statues in the front and clutched two navy-blue suitcases.

This would be my home for an indefinite amount of months. My mother was the housekeeper in this mansion, making sure it was clean and livable for the resident of the place. Resident, meaning the King of Rock 'n' Roll. She asked him personally if her daughter could work in the house to save up money for college. He consented.

I took a breath of courage and stepped up the stone steps in front of the house and came up to the double-doors that were glass with a black iron design on them. I rang the doorbell.

Nothing. I rang it again. My heart raced. The King wouldn't answer the door. He was a busy man. Momma told me he was working on a new film, but he should be back from filming it in Germany at the end of June on the 27th. It was the 26th. I would meet him the next day.

I shook my head, stopping my running thoughts and the excitement at meeting my favorite star from rising. I heard footsteps inside the house and I saw someone come up to it. My lips stretched into a broad smile as this person opened the door for me. I dropped my suitcases and flung my arms around her.

"Momma!"

She held me, moving from side to side like she usually did when she hugged me, or my older brother who was living in inner Memphis with his wife. I instantly smelled her rosy powder that she usually applied after she bathed. It was her. She had no other scent all my life.

"Megan, you made it, thank the Lord," she said into my neck in her Southern drawl that I had as well.

"Of course I did. I took the bus and I had to show a guardsman my ID card in order to get in. He said that he had word from Elvis himself to let me in when I arrived." I inhaled her scent. "It's great to see you. That little ol' house of ours was gettin' lonely."

"I'm sorry that you had to be there by yourself until after you graduated. I talked with Mr. Presley through letters 'bout hirin' ya on when I started up here last year, but there was already enough workers in the house. He was happy to take you on anyway, but you decided to wait."

"Yes, I did. I didn't want to still be goin' to school and work in a world-famous star's house. That would cause a lot of unneeded commotion for me, you and him."

She let go of me, and I saw that she wore a light-purple uniform with a white apron - her housekeeper attire. "And he knows it. I mentioned it in my last letter to 'im. He's always askin' 'bout the house and its condition. He told me to my face before he left for Germany to film that movie to make sure I keep things in tip-top shape. He said that I'm the boss when he's away."

I remembered her telling me that. "I know. He loves this place."

"Yes, he does. It was originally a gift for his parents, but then his mother passed, and only he is here now, with his father stayin' out in the house out back."

"His father is here? I didn't know that!"

"He is, but we hardly see 'im. He keeps to himself. Now come in, come in. You're lettin' the cold air out."

I took up my suitcases and stepped into the entrance corridor of the mansion. I was instantly faced with a white staircase with gold on the railing. I looked to my left and saw an elegant dining room with a shining dark-wood table with cabinets on the walls that looked like they were made of the same wood. I looked to my right and saw a white living room with white carpet, white sofas and red curtains pulled back, letting in the summer sunlight. Blue, yellow and clear stained glass windows in a peacock design popped out, but they didn't impress me nearly as much as the next thing I saw, sitting in a room leading out of the living room...

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