Housekeeper and the Billionaire

At the cusp of sleep and awake, I inhaled deeply to take in the lingering scent of lemon blossom and neroli in the room. The crisp ivory-white percale weave sheets beneath my body seemed like fluffy clouds, and oh, the plump pillows rubbed my cheeks. The golden sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. Its fading light filtered through the expansive sliding doors of the balcony, filling the room with a warm and enchanting radiance. The weariness that had settled upon me was instantly lifted, replaced by a sense of serenity and excitement.

My eyes swept across the pristine, ivory-hued Sterling Suite, a haven of luxuriousness nestled along the breathtaking shores of Dorian. Spending this amount, equivalent to my six-month earnings, for just one night, eels extravagant, yet it's an investment worth making. At the ripe old age of 30, I still haven't learned how to master the art of saving money and sticking to a budget, both of which would have been wonderful for me.

If I had saved up, I could have stayed at the Sterling Suite for at least one night.

In this moment, I find solace in gracefully gliding across the expanse of the master bedroom, immersing myself in the illusion of being a refined and cultured woman, a role that fate has denied me. Alternatively, I can focus on completing my tasks diligently, ensuring that I do not face the dreadful prospect of losing my job on this final day of work.

In this moment, I find solace in gracefully gliding across the expanse of the master bedroom, immersing myself in the illusion of being a refined and cultured woman, a role that fate has denied me.

Alternatively, I can focus on completing my tasks diligently, ensuring that I do not face the dreadful prospect of losing my job on this final day of work. In a whirlwind of excitement, I darted from room to room, my heart racing with anticipation. With each passing minute, I transformed the space into a haven of perfection, ensuring that every detail was flawlessly arranged for the arrival of affluent guests. My heart torn between the passion I have for my job and the ache it brings me.

With meticulous care, every corner of the Sterling suite was attended to. Each bedroom was checked, ensuring that every detail was perfect. The living room exuded an inviting ambience, while the dining room sparkled with elegance. The bathrooms were meticulously examined. The sheets were lovingly tucked, and the cushions were fluffed to perfection. Soft cashmere wool blankets were delicately placed, ready to offer warmth and comfort. The linen curtains were straightened, casting a romantic glow throughout the rooms. The mirrors were delicately cleaned, reflecting the beauty of the space.

A soft breath escaped my lips, filled with a sense of tranquillity, as my eyes looked over the exquisite planterette. It was a masterpiece of nature's artistry, adorned with delicate vibrant greenery and elegant white roses arranged with a touch of effortless grace.

Today marked the bittersweet finale of my four-year duration as a housekeeper at the esteemed Elite Oak Resort. As the sun set on this chapter of my life, my heart fluttered with the hope for what tomorrow held: the day I would unite my soul with my beloved Arlo, the one who had captured my heart for years. It's a sad but exciting period in a woman's life when she finally gets to start a new chapter of her life with her true love.

As though the time was slipping through my fingers like sand, leaving me with a mere half-hour to collect my dress from the seamstress. The thought of finally laying my eyes upon my beautiful bridal gown filled me with excitement.

In an eruption of excitement and nervous butterflies, my heart raced as thoughts of the upcoming wedding consumed my mind. I gracefully made my way down the staircase towards the Housekeeping chamber. I couldn't decide if I was excited or frightened about the future.

As I approached, my face lit up at the sight of Mrs Cha, her delicate hands gracefully tending to a pot of aromatic Indian chai leaves. The air was filled with the euphoric scent of freshly brewed tea. She had prepared a delightful spread of sweets and biscuits, a thoughtful gesture as the parting treat that will leave a lasting impression on my soul. She took care of me like a child, with tenderness and affection. Without a shadow of a doubt, I would miss her dearly.

In my most mischievous tone, I playfully addressed her as "Mrs Cha-Cha-Cha." However, much to my dismay, my comedic flair seemed to evaporate into thin air, leaving behind an awkward silence that hung in the air like a forgotten punchline. She turned around, directing a scathing glare in my direction.

Inquiringly, I questioned, "what?"

"Absolutely nothing," she huffed, her voice dripping with annoyance like a leaky faucet.

"Is there something bothering you about my departure? Will you miss yelling at me, Mrs Cha?" I said that as a joke. I kissed her on both cheeks, and her face lit up with a wide smile.

"I'm shocked that you're quitting your job for that man who has only caused you emotional, mental, and financial stress. You've financed his startup and are covering the wedding expenses entirely. Zara, you're so naive?" She questioned, her eyes becoming increasingly narrow as she looked at me.

"After the death of my parents, his parents welcomed granny and me into their home. How could I have been so thoughtless towards them?" I attempted to explain in a way that she could understand.

"They supported you during your teenage years for five years, but you have repaid them abundantly in the last thirteen through your hard work. What more?" She commented, sounding displeased.

What matters to me is not how long they've been doing these things. I explained, "They were there for me when I needed them the most, which is why they are like family to me."

I wrapped my arms around her, offering comfort and reassurance. Reluctantly, she nudged me aside and seated me in the chair, determined to continue the discussion. To get me to call off the wedding, she was prepared to use any and all Hard Bargaining tactics in the book.

With a scrutinising glance, she whispered in a low, husky voice, "He's worthless, but you, Zara, are priceless. He's taken from you without giving anything in return." She tried to convince me.

And I tried my best to convince her that feelings cannot be measured in terms of money. She grumbled as she poured spicy chai into her prized china cups.

The room's ease was rudely interrupted by the loud ringing of the phone.

Mrs Cha greeted the man on the other side of the phone politely before ending the call and giving me a concerned look; she said, "Stay here until I get back, and in the meantime, have some tea."

"But what happened?" I inquired, filled with curiosity.

Mrs. Cha struggled to put on her apron as she replied, "They're asking me to replace the flowers in The Sterling Suite."

"Why? How is it inappropriate? I just did it," Confused, I inquired further.

"The suite was specially prepared for Mr. Sherman Colton and he doesn't like roses." Mrs Cha sighed and smiled, struggling with her apron. "He fired someone over those silly flowers," she said. "He's on his way, just left the boardroom, will be upstairs in 5 minutes."

"I'll get it done; I'm still dressed for work and have the access card on me." I quickly stood up and reached for the door handle, assuring Mrs Cha, "I'll be back in a minute, don't worry; enjoy your tea."

With a sense of urgency, I dashed through the hallway, my destination clear in my mind - the Florist's room. My mission? To acquire the illustrious No Roses bouquet. My mind couldn't help but wonder - what kind of peculiar soul doesn't like roses?

Indeed, only a rare breed of people could resist the delicate petals, the intoxicating fragrance, and the romantic symbolism that roses hold.

Even the most hardened souls find themselves submitting to the subtle charms of roses. Ah, but who am I to pass judgment on such matters? I am but a humble flower bearer entrusted with the task of delivering it to the suite.

I quietly unlocked the Sterling suite door, switched out the vase, and departed.

The last of my responsibilities is done. As I locked the door behind me, I heaved a sigh of relief.

With each delicate step, I descended the stairs; the invigorating scent of roses enveloped my senses. Clutched against my beating heart, the velvety petals whispered secrets of love and passion. At that moment, I imagined myself as a blushing bride on an aisle leading to the sacred altar of eternal commitment.

In the depths of my soul, I was aware that my fatal romantic ideals veiled my awareness of reality. But alas, my foolish heart, so tender and full of love, surrenders effortlessly, like a delicate snowflake surrendering to the enchanting dance of flames.

"Goodbye, Mrs Cha, and many thanks for all that you've done for me. I'm grateful for it." While wearing a jacket over my uniform and slinging my bag over my shoulder, I hefted a box with both hands and proclaimed, "I love you to the moon and back."

"Are you saying you won't come back to show me the dress after the fitting?"

"Come to the wedding and see me in the dress," I beamed.

Mrs Cha quipped, "I'd choose to scrub filthy toilets over witnessing your life go up in flames." The thought made me laugh out loud.

"I'm going to miss the last bus back home, so I'll send you some pictures."

"Please, let me see you as the bride," Mrs Cha pleaded with me. "Don't worry about the bus, I'll cover your cab fare. Just come back and show me; the pictures won't be the same."

She flashed a mischievous smile and winked, saying, "I've got cash, darling; I'll pay for the cab", then strolled away. Though I was overjoyed and excited, I couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that nothing would go as planned. Was I overwhelmed, or was my intuition warning me of something terrible about to happen?

A single tear of pure bliss cascaded down my cheek, carrying with it the weight of my overflowing emotions. It was a tear born out of sheer happiness of the love that had blossomed within me. As I strolled along the enchanting streets of the Dorian Coast downtown area, my thoughts were consumed by the captivating world within my own mind.

I had meticulously composed a vow of commitment. Words, carefully chosen and woven together like a quilt of emotions, meant to be shared in the presence of our loved ones. Tomorrow will be the day, where memories will be created that I will cherish for a lifetime. Perhaps, in the distant future, our grandchildren will gather around, eager to hear our little love story.

For countless days and nights, I slaved away, my weary body pushing through double shifts and part-time work, all in pursuit of a single goal: to save money for my fairytale wedding. An experience that would forever be engraved in the memories of everyone.

In the mi