The heavenly smell of bacon wakes me up from my comatose state. I open up my eyes and quickly regret it.

Why did I insist on painting the walls white in my bedroom? The shade is burning my retinas right now even with the curtain closed.

I lift my head from my pillow and try to maneuver my way out of the bed. My head feels like someone stomped on it several times. My throat is dry and my whole body is sore.

I am never drinking again.

Once I am able to stand up straight, I slowly make my way out of my room and into the kitchen. Bryce is half naked, cooking breakfast. I watch him, while he plates the bacon and starts working on the eggs.

My headache almost fades away at the sight.

Gigi comes out of her room in a state similar to mine. She looks at me and grunts out a "good morning".

There's nothing good about this morning. Not with this hangover.

I go brush my teeth and come back to join Gigi and Bryce at the kitchen counter. I sit on one of the bar stools and grab a piece of bacon.

"No, don't eat yet!", Bryce's large hand slaps my small one away from the bacon.

I let out a small whine, sounding like a puppy that got scolded.

He places two glasses in front of Gigi and me. They are filled to the brim with an icky looking green slimy drink.

"What the hell is this?", she asks looking at the contents in the glass in disgust.

"Something that will cure your hangover", he replies.

I take the glass and take a small sip. I gag at how disgusting the taste and texture is.

"If you hurl, you don't eat", Bryce says firmly.

It takes us ten minutes to actually drink the whole thing. Ten minutes of pleading with Bryce. Ten minutes of gagging and crying for our mothers at how unfair this man is.

"I never said I play fair", he says with a smirk .

He leaves a few minutes after breakfast. We quickly clean up around the apartment and then spend the rest of the day...the actual weekend sleeping our massive hangovers off.

Monday morning comes by so quickly and along with it my extreme crippling anxiety. Today I start my new job.

Am I excited?

Yes.

Do I feel like I'm going to throw up my actual heart from anxiety?

Hell yes.

Do I have faith in myself?

Yes because I always put in a hundred and fifty percent of myself in anything that I do. Plus I am hyped up by Gigi's words of encouragement.

According to her I'm going to make the best celebrity maid ever as I am "anal when it comes to clean things". Her words not mine. I am glad that she sees my neatness as something anal.

Gigi you sure have a way with words my friend.

I wake up at 7am and start getting ready. Belle had sent me a text yesterday saying that I should be at the house by 9am where I will be met by a woman called Ms. June.

Thankfully she had also sent me a gps location of the house so that I know where I am going. Gigi is my ride for the day as she also is on her way to work.

"We're definitely not in Kansas anymore", she muses as she lets out a whistle at our surroundings. I laugh at her reference from The Wizard of Oz, though tweeked in pure Gigi style.

The whole entire neighbourhood screams money. The yards are far apart and the houses get bigger and bigger the further we move.

"You have arrived at your destination ", a robotic woman's voice says from the gps.

We pull up to a gate where there's a security camera and an intercom. I press the button and a voice comes out.

"State your business", a gruff manly voice says.

"Uh. Rosalie Jones, the new maid", I reply and in an instant the gates open up to the most luxorious yard I have ever seen.

The grass is so green and perfectly cut. There's a fountain in the middle of a front garden. As if the yard is not impressive enough, we finally lay our eyes on the house. Or should I say castle.

My eyes almost pop out their sockets.

"Damn", Gigi says as she parks the car.

Damn indeed. How the heck does Belle afford this place?

If modeling gives you this much extravagance then my chubby self is going to try it out. Maybe become a plus size model like Ashley Graham.

I get out of the car and walk up the front stairs to the huge French doors as Gigi drives off to work.

The door opens as my hand was making its way to ring the bell.

"H-Hello", I say to a man in a suit.

He has grey hair and soft blue eyes. He reminds me of Jeremy Irons in Batman.

"Hello, please come in", he moves away from the doorway for me to come in.

My anxiety starts to make its way back. My hands are starting to shake and are getting sweaty. I wipe them on my jeans.

"Please take a seat", the man ushers me to a plush white couch in a room not far from the entrance.

While he leaves, my eyes roam around the room and admire its beauty. There's a mixture of modern style meets old, victorian house.

Footsteps approach the room I'm in and the man walks in with an elderly woman.

"Hello dear, you must be Rosalie", she says with a smile.

I stand up and offer my hand as a greeting but she pulls me in for a hug. We're basically the same height.

"I'm June, the one you'll be taking over from", her eyes crinkle and wrinkle at the corners as she smiles at me. I feel at peace with her around. She feels like a warm Christmas morning.

Ms. June also like the gentleman I met earlier has beautiful long grey locks that are flowing freely on her shoulders. Her hair is so long it goes right down to her lower back almost touching her butt. Her beautiful grey eyes sparkle with wisdom and a lot of warmth.

"I'll show you around the house, while Harvey retrieves your uniform", she looks at the man, now I know is Harvey to get my uniform.

The tour of the house takes about half an hour. Ms. June showing me around the living room, the ten bedrooms, a state of the art gym, olympic sized swimming pool, game room, a movie room and a lot more other rooms.

How in the world am I going to be able to clean this whole place?

We finally walk up to hallway that is a bit far from all the other rooms in the house.

"Now this is where the main bedroom and the study are. These rooms you will not be cleaning".

"Why not?", I ask her, my curiosity being piqued.

"The owner of the house is a very private person dear, he doesn't like to be disturbed", she says.

Owner of the house? He?

"I thought Belle owned this place", my mouth blurts before my brain registers the words.

"Pffft", Ms. June scoffs. "Anabelle Walker does not own this house or a single thing inside of it".

I detect a hint of annoyance and irritation from Ms. June as she answers. Does this sweet old lady that I have just met thirty minutes ago not like Belle?

The very same nice Belle I met a week ago?

"Oh", is the only thing that comes out of my lips.

Harvey meets us downstairs with a bag that he hands over to me.

"That is your uniform, you will be wearing it when you are on duty", Ms. June says.

I am shown to one of the bedrooms that are downstairs where I can change. The bedroom is cute, a queen sized bed is in the middle of the room. It has four bedposts that are painted white with lace covering.

There are two French style glass framed doors that lead to a balcony that overlooks into the back yard.

Before I lose myself by exploring, I strip off my normal clothing.

The uniform is actually an all black ensemble. Some slacks, a button down shirt and a pair of heels.

And not just any pair of heels, red bottom heels. I almost cry from holding the shoes, let alone wearing them is a religious experience of its own.

Who the heck gives their maid red bottom heels to clean in?

I take a look at myself in the full length mirror on the other side of the room. The whole thing works. I don't know how they knew my size for both the clothing and shoes but everything fits me perfectly. My hair is its usual bun for when I am working, I don't like my curly mane getting in the way.

I nod at my reflection. I actually look like a sexy assistant and not a maid.

The bedroom door opens and Ms. June walks in. "You look lovely", she says to me with a smile that quickly fades into a serious look, "Now, let's get you to work".

Most of the day is spent with myself trailing behind Ms. June as she shows me what needs to be done and how to do it. The woman held a literal clipboard that had a checklist of things that I have to do.

I honestly don't see it as a lot of work, as I move around the house with her easily. Even with these shoes on.

Late afternoon crawls in and she pulls me into the kitchen. A beautiful kitchen at that. This is every chef's wet dream.

Speaking of chefs...

"This is Pierre, the house cook", Ms. June says introducing me to a tall man with a big belly.

"Pierre, this is Rosalie the new maid".

"Hello" I smile at Pierre. He takes my hand and kisses the back of it.

Pierre makes us lunch and while I hang out with him and Ms. June in the kitchen he tells me more about him. He's a famous retired French chef, who "", his actual words people. He owns multiple restaurants and is a father of two and a grandfather of six.

"Why are you here if you're retired?", I ask as I watch him finely chop an onion so fast it looked like it was done by a food processor.

"I have a soft spot for Alexander", he says with his accent very pronounced.

Alexander?

"The owner of the house", Ms. June says as she detects the confusion on my face.

I wonder when do I get to meet this Alexander person. Gosh even his name sounds rich.

The sound of footsteps and voices echoing around the house halts our conversation in the kitchen.

"That must be him right now, I wonder why he's back so early". Ms. June says.

She looks at me to clarify "He is never back home this early".

The footsteps sound like they are getting closer to the kitchen now. Harvey walks in holding a briefcase and a folder which he places on the dining table there.

The person who walks into the room knocks the wind out of me as I get a good look at the man with familiar blue eyes

"Rosalie Jones meet Alexander Cain, the master of the house", Ms. June introduces us.

Alexander and I have a staring contest as recognition seeps in.

Alexander Cain is the man I served at the restaurant. He is Mr British Blue Eyes.

He is my new employer.