Au Pair ✔

capítulo número cuatro; el plomero

Au Pair

All Rights Reserved

© 2016 Luna Black

~*~

Mrs. Hannagan raised an eyebrow, stacking all the papers together and I bit back my tongue. This lady really had some issues with me and I didn't know what they were or why she had them. I had never met her before in my life, so it's not possible that I did something.

"Everything looks like it checked out."

I nodded, sitting back and leaned my back against the seat. "I'm a little confused about something." She tilted her head to the side, an unspoken sign to speak my thoughts. "Why do you help people find jobs, if you don't benefit at all from it?"

She snorted, scrounging her face up unattractively and flattened her hands on my fingerprint papers. "This agency was started by my mother; she's always wanted to help immigrants find jobs and keep girls like you off the streets."

I wanted to open my mouth and tell her that I wasn't an immigrant. I wanted to tell her that if I wanted to be a prostitute, I'd make more than her in one damn night. I wanted to tell her to stop looking at me like I was some poor unfortunate soul and I wanted to do everything in the least civil way possible, but I managed to keep my mouth shut because the $24 I had where now down to $15 and there was no way I was going to ask Mrs. Maggie to lend me money.

"We accept donations from people and that's how we stay afloat. But, really it is none of your business Ms. Rodriguez." Her icy eyes stared me down and I gritted my teeth. "These are the keys to Mr. Valenté's home and the address. He will leave out instructions for you when you get there on Friday. His contract is to go clean up twice a week, any day of your choosing, between the hours of 8am and 3pm."

My fists were clenched so tightly that my nails were starting to hurt me, but it was the only thing I could do to not smash her head down on the desk. Pendeja. "Okay," I managed to breath out carefully.

"You will essentially be signing the contract with Mr. Valenté, so he is your boss; you have to report to him if anything occurs. We wish you the best of luck, Ms. Rodriguez; have a nice rest of the day."

I got up from the chair and walked out faster than a bat out of hell. "Pendanga, se cree que to' los hispanos somos inmigrantes. ¡Tus abuelos fueron inmigrantes también, gringa estúpida! Y yo no soy ninguna fücking puta."

Chirpy Chanel raised an eyebrow as I continued muttering things under my breath, but I was too focused on the anger I felt at her stupidity. I honestly didn't even want this job now. I'd go straight to Mrs. Maggie tell her how this weird ass interview went and start looking for other jobs.

After I paid the $9 to the taxi driver, I felt my account squealing at the $5.24 it had left. It was mandatory to have $5 in my bank account. If that ride had been more than $9, I would have to walk the rest of the way there.

I was so angry as I stumped up the stairs that I didn't realise that I wasn't out of breath when I knocked on Mrs. Maggie's door. This was a miracle! By the end of the first flight of stairs, I was already dying!

"Dani-love!" Mrs. Maggie exclaimed happily, pulling me in for a hug. "How did your interview go?"

I held up the papers in my hands and muttered, "I have a job, but I'm not going."

"What?" She frowned, closing the door behind her. "What do you mean? What happened?"

"Well that bïtch is racist as hell and judgemental. Just because I wasn't wearing a fücking suit to the interview, doesn't mean that I'm a prostitute!" She motioned for me to sit down, but I was too angry. I wanted to punch that fake-tittied blonde bïtch.