The Nation's Jackpot Girl (BWWM)

Chapter 14

Waking up has not been an exciting thing for me. Knowing that I would wake up to no job, an almost empty bank account, and more racist employees to meet every day is not something I'm hyped about.

But I have to be awake or else, I'll not be awake.

Does that make sense?

Throwing back my covers, I climb out of my bed and open the curtains to allow light to come in. I am greeted by the sound of vehicles. People go to their workplaces and students on their way to school.

But I am here at home with no job and no idea of what to eat for breakfast.

I live in a one-room apartment so the kitchen is in the same room I sleep in. I go to the kitchen and make the remnants of coffee, hoping that somehow, I can get money.

I'm tempted to call my mother but once I remember the circumstances under which I left her home, I decide against it.

I prepared oats meal next and take a seat on the stool facing the tiny counter that has been squeezed into the kitchen.

My eyes catch a card on the other side of the counter. It's a pale blue card with silver inscriptions on it and I wonder how it might have gotten here. I didn't have anyone over last night.

I pick up the card and immediately remember how it's in my apartment once I read through it.

The offer I got yesterday. I let out a heavy sigh.

This job feels like an insult. A slap to my face. My degree is enough to get a high-paying collar job as a working-class lady but my unfortunate encounters have reduced me to being offered the spot of a housemaid.

Never knew how real racism could be till I began to live on my own. It's a cold world out there.

As I dig into my oatmeal, I hear a knock on the door. Wondering who it might be, I let my spoon drop into the cereal bowl before walking to the door.

"Hey, Jocelyn!" It's my neighbor Jane. She's all dressed up for work and I'm somehow jealous that I do not have a job.

I return her smile. "Hey. Good morning. On your way to work?"

Jane shook her head. "Not really. I'm free today. I'm on a one-week leave."

Frowning, I scan her outfit. "But you're all dressed up like you're going to work."

"I want to look good. I'm so used to waking up and dressing up for work that just being casual feels weird."

I nod. I would never trade my house clothes when I have a week to dress however I want.

"Come in. I have some coffee left." I say to her and she steps into my apartment for the first time. It's all messed up and I feel slightly embarrassed that I haven't cleaned it up.

"Pardon how messed up my apartment is. It has been a crazy week."

But Jane is already on the single couch in my room and she looks comfortable. "Don't worry. I understand. We're friends, right?"

Err... I'm not sure about that.

I immediately changed topics. "Let me get you a cup of coffee."

"With lots of sugar, please." She says.

Knowing fully well that I do not have much sugar, I just hope she understands and doesn't point out the fact that I didn't add enough.

This kitchen is nearly empty as I have exhausted everything I have. I don't even have enough money to get new groceries.

Once I pour in the last sugar, I turn it in before proceeding to where she's seated.

"Here."

She smiles at me. "Thank you."

I watch her for a few moments as she sips and when she says nothing, I sigh in relief.

I join her moments later with my meal and cup of coffee. The card I brought along with me is now sitting on the table and when she places her cup on the table, the card catches her attention.

She picks it up, reads and nods before surveying the card. "This card looks too fancy. You got a new job?"

"Not really," I say in reply. I honestly want to talk about the job offer I was given to her but I feel like I'd be selling myself short. I'm a degree holder and she's a high school dropout. She's way out of my league.

But something reminds me that I am no different from my racist employees if I think I am better than her because of my degree.

"Some rich lady asked me to work for her as a maid."

Jane nods and looks at the card again. "That must have been insulting to your degree."

"You're right."

"Do you have other options?"

"No, I don't," I say in a defeated tone.

Jane sighs and looks at me. "Not to invalidate your level of education or anything. But you've been quite unlucky with getting jobs and all. I feel like you should work as a maid for now. Your grocery is almost finished. You didn't add enough sugar and my coffee is bitter. You wouldn't be eating oats if you had enough cash."

I gape at her in surprise. How does she know that?

"Jane, it's hard to work below your level."

"Stay home and starve to death or work as a maid?"

I weigh the options, the pros, and the cons and I see that she is right. No matter how hard I find it, I have to admit to her that she's right.

So I pick up the card, slip my phone out of my pocket, and dial the number on the complimentary card.

The line rings three times and there is a beep.

"This is Leela McCartney speaking. How may I help you?"

I cough twice. "Uhm, this is Jocelyn. The lady you met yesterday. You asked me to call you if I changed my mind. I think I would love to work for you as a maid."

Those words feel like bile in my throat.