Happenstance [H.S.]

1

Now Playing: Howie Day - Collide

It's true that I don't have a beginning for my story like all the other stories we read do. I just couldn't find the best way to do it, so I decided to keep it simple.

Everything started in a summery day in July in the not so famous Umbria, Italy.

The days working as a kitchen help would change my life forever and I hadn't realized it yet.

If you would ask me, I could tell you everything about forks or knifes, also types of glasses and in which one you should be drinking your beloved champagne. You could also ask me about the most efficient way of polishing your silver ware. However, something I did not know or wasn't expecting – at all - was that that rug in which I was so comfortably stepping in was going to be pulled from my feet. Please, don't worry, I am no Cinderella, and this is not a fairytale story.

Now I would be adding to my narrative the typical "just a normal girl with a normal life", but aren't we all that? Aren't we all the normal girl who plays the main character role in our favorite romance? I like to think that I am. I also like to think that I am relatable and that what happened to me could eventually happen to anyone who's reading this.

After travelling for a while searching for the perfect city, most importantly the perfect salary, I was magically compelled to be a cook. Truth is, I always loved to be a cook and with some lessons I learned from my grandmother it has been an inspiring journey. For that reason, I decided to take some lessons in Italy (fully covered by my golden hearted grandmother and father – who has always been a cook).

My father, with whom my relationship is not the best, offered me an opportunity to work with him in a private house in Umbria, Italy.

My relationship with my father has never been easy, once he abandoned me and my mother when I was only five. However, Facebook brought us together.

Isn't that funny? That freaking Facebook network needed to exist, so my freaking father had the gut to speak (type) a word to me?

I was washing a pan that was literally the size of my arm for the second time today. Seriously, I could really fit my arm inside that pot.

For the thousandth time that day I sighed and wished I would never have accepted this challenge. Nevertheless, the other side of me was trying to see it as an opportunity. Fucking rich people. I said to myself when realized they left a lot of food untouched on their plates.

Well, the thing I didn't explain about this job that I took with my father was that I was a kitchen help, kitchen intern. This means I am no chef; I do not get the chance to cook because 1. I am an amateur and it didn't matter how good my food was, I did not have a Michelin star proving the contrary; 2. They were rich and apparently famous so they wouldn't have an amateur cooking for them.

Despite the good money I was making, I also had a hell of a job cleaning tables and serving, sometimes cleaning rooms. I did a bit of everything so I would have the chance to add to my Curriculum some experience on the cooking area. And this was basically it.

My phone wouldn't stop vibrating on my back pocket. I was wearing these weird classic black trousers and blouse, part of my uniform, and I couldn't feel more afar of my real style.

As the phone vibration didn't seem to stop, I quickly dried my hands on a kitchen towel and picked it up. It was Zayn. I leaned on the kitchen counter while gazing the hills and vineyards on my sight.

-Hey. No, I'm not ready yet. A lot of dishes to prepare for tonight. – I lied. Please, do not take me as a liar. Zayn is the boy I am seeing, and I wouldn't like to disappoint him saying that I am just another member of the cleaning/kitchen help team. – Yup, babe. Yeah, me too. – I hung up and decided not to think about the fact that Zayn has been saying the 3 words too much and I was not able to find a way to reply him. Or maybe you don't love him, said my conscience.

I sighed again, maybe too loud, and threw the mobile against the counter.

-Hey, where is Maurizio? – A rusty low voice made me shake while entering the kitchen walls. I turned quickly and tried to hide the phone in the back of my pocket again.

-He's going to be back tonight. – I stammered.

-Do I know you? – He asked, a smile forming on his lips.

-Hm. Probably not. – I stammered again. He was cute. Had nice eyes and beautiful voice. Overall, he felt so intimidating and familiar at the same time.

-Shouldn't I call the police because you're invading private propriety? – His British accent pierced my ears.

-Excuse me? – I spat these words before my brain was completely functional. Just to clarify this situation, I am not good at meeting people. I am socially awkward especially when meeting men. Charming man, I might add.

-I can sign your CD and then you can go. Do we have a deal? – My mouth was almost reaching the floor with surprise. Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

-Sure, let's make it a deal if you pay the rest of the salary on my contract. – I gave my hand to the freaking moron who was making me feel like I was a crazy person invading his house. Famous people, my conscience rolled its eyes.

-Oh! – He clumsily touched his lips and touched my hand in return. – I didn't know you were so... - Now he was the one stammering.

-Ok, I am going. Tell Maurizio you didn't like me. – I took off the apron that I was honestly sick of wearing.

-Young. – He continued.

I stopped and exhaled. If I was over cleaning so many pans and rooms, I might be over speaking to this asshole for good as well.

-What do you mean? How old are you? – I asked rhetorically. – For god's sake, you just made me a favor. I was hating working here anyway. – I confessed, put my apron on his tattooed hands and closed it since he seemed a bit out of reaction.

-No, no, no, no. – He mumbled. – You have a contract. – His eyes pierced mine and I immediately stared the wooden floor. – Which means if you walk away now, you are not going to be paid.

-Are you kidding me? – I asked. – Aren't I too young to be working here? – I laughed.

-Apparently not. – He spat. His rusty voice.

-Thinking you would be doing me a favor. – I grabbed the apron from his hand and hang it on my neck. – Is there anything else you need for tonight?

-Actually, I was thinking about canceling it.

-Oh... Really? – I ironically laughed just with the thought of my father's reaction. – Then, please inform Mr. Maurizio. My shift is over now. If you'll excuse me.

I walked out of the kitchen and went downstairs to the employee area on the first floor of the mansion.

What the hell. This guy is such a diva. I rolled my eyes just by the thought of listening to his demanding rusty voice again.

Zayn didn't stop ringing me. I changed quickly and drove my old Renault Clio to his house; I had a night off from the dish washing work.

***

Hi! So, I decided to post the first chapter of Happenstance and see how it goes. I also like to start the chapters with a theme song. Let me know if you think that's a good idea or not! I would really appreciate your opinion! Please, don't forget to vote! xx

- Brooke.