My alarm went off, and I awoke to the sound of it. I came to a halt and checked the time.
It was already 7:15AM
"Oh fuck," I muttered.
I got out of bed, took a shower, and dressed in skinny jeans, a black tank top, and a red see-through shirt. My long, thick brown hair was pulled up into a bun. I settled on a gold necklace and diamond earrings. I put on my black boots and walked to the subway station.
It only took me about ten minutes to walk from the underground subway to Jayson's house, so I was still on time. I was relieved to arrive at the house early on the first day. I was hoping to make a good first impression.
I stood in front of their gate, and when the two men noticed me, they opened the gate. I assumed Veronica had informed them that I had been hired.
As I walked past the garden, I couldn't help but stare in admiration at the roses, particularly the black roses.
I approached the door and knocked; I only had to wait a few seconds before the same middle-aged woman who had instructed me the day before opened the door. When she suddenly grabbed me in a bear hug, I was completely surprised. I wasn't expecting it at all. I was not more taller than her, which contributed to a significant increase in the level of comfort we experienced during the hug.
She removed herself from the hug and smiled at me as she looked at me.
"I apologize for being so rude to you; I just didn't know if you were different from the other girls who had entered the house." She stated.
"Oh- umm..." I began.
"Emily Voult is my name, but you can call me Emily. I am the Jayson's main maid and caretaker." She stated.
"Hello, my name is Ava," I said, thinking, "I knew I was right."
"Ava is such a lovely name! I'll notify Ms. Jayson that you've arrived; you can wait in the kitchen while I begin preparing breakfast."
"All right, thank you." I said
I made my way to the kitchen and came to a complete halt. Andrew was sitting by the island, his back to me, his eyes on his phone, and, more importantly, he was shirtless.
His back muscles were relaxed, but you could still see the outline of each muscle, and his tattoos trailed from his lower back to the back of his neck. His biceps were perfectly toned. His hands were huge, but not in an odd way; both of his hands had tattoos trailing to his fingers; I would have loved to feel hands like those on me, but because they were "his," I wanted them to stay as far away from me as possible. He was undoubtedly sculpted by the Gods, and if I hadn't known his personality, I would have been more than just physically drawn and attracted to him.
When he began swearing under his breath, he snapped me out of my thoughts. I was relieved that he was still cursing at his phone and hadn't noticed my presence.
I needed coffee, and I wasn't going to pass it up just because Mr. Asshole was here. I went over to the coffee maker, which was inconveniently located directly in front of Mr. Asshole.
"You again," he spit at me.
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