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When I left home too early this morning with my papers in one hand and God in the other, I never in a million years thought I'd be walking up the pavement that leads to that foreboding palace in the sky owned by Mr Sin.

Normally, I wouldn't even consider it. They treated me like trash last time but I have no room for pride, my plate is overcrowded as it is.

And I know I could just apply online, it's easier and cheaper than this nonsense but most of those posts end with something like, if you haven't heard from us in three weeks, consider your application unsuccessful.

Who has three fucking weeks??

I need to eat today.

I will take anything, anything. I'll pack shelves, I'll wait on people, I'll even clean the toilet of some rich, pompous asshole.

I'm young, educated, black but broke while supporting two households with next to nothing and my back against the wall. I worry about money every second of every day.

My mom's sick pension helps from time to time but it is not even close to being enough, it doesn't stretch through the month especially with her specialised needs.

It's even harder since I can't leave her alone all the time, all my friends and neighbours are busy with their own things and my little brother is usually too high to even take a piss.

I can't put her in the hospital-- they are overcrowded and are for critical patients only. Not that I could ever leave her at one of those death roofs. I know way more people who have died at public hospitals than those who survived. I'm not doing that to my mother.

Private hospitals, on the other hand, are for medical aid people and those with money. And a hiring a nurse or a caretaker is out of the question, if we can't even afford food, we definitely can't afford a private nurse.

The government's Home Based Care initiative helps a lot. From time to time, they send nurses and volunteers to go house to house delivering medication and checking up on the sick.

It helps because my mother and I don't have to wait long lines at the clinic for her medicine and she is too sick to spend excessive amounts of time staying upright.

The club where I work barely pays minimum wage but thankfully has really good tips. The pension fund that my mom gets from the government is around R 1 300 and I have to use that for electricity, food and clothes for her along with other supplies. The child social grant is R 440 and all goes to the other household I have to support along with the money from any job I do.

What other choice do I have?

I don't have any other prospects. I have a Master's degree in business and finance but no one and I mean no one, is hiring.

I spent the whole day walking around the city begging for work. No one wants to hire me, I am either too 'inappropriately dressed' or I'm over qualified-- should probably omitt my qualifications from my CV.

And inappropriately dressed how when my dress reaches my knees and my cleavage is covered so what's inappropriate about that? Is it the hugging fit?

I'd almost given up when I got a call.

From Brie Lot.

Not with a well-deserved apology but with another job offer, at the same place, working for the same guy.

Amber eyes.

Now I'm not going to lie and say I haven't thought about those eyes over these past few days and the man they belong to but it was mostly out of indignation because... well, because fuck him.

Me walking through these dark glass doors with black linings again shows how desperate I really am, hell no way would I come here otherwise.

Pride is for the rich.

My worn out heels are clicking on the marbled floors to Mr Sin.

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Am I being pranked?

This feels like those jokes people at on other play and then record them.

This can't be happening. I can only tolerate so much bullshit in one day.

I don't know any of these guys working the front desk like some hotel shit, I've actually never been this side of the building. The penthouse, Mr Sin's suite, has a private elevator that Brie gave me the code to to sneak in.

I had hoped they would have changed the manager though, we didn't have many pleasant run-ins.

But nope, he's still here. With his greasy blonde hair pushed back, I don't know who told him the style looks good on him but no bigger lie has been told.

"Ms Olifant," He says through his teeth as a way of greeting, "How may we help?"

I take a breath, "I'm here to see Mr Sin, they won't let me through."

I don't know why when I was working here just a few days ago.

"Probably because no one notified us that you were coming..." He goes on to

"Because Mr Sin notifies you every time he gets a visitor?"

"When they come through here, he does."

Okay, he got me there.

I knew I should've gone through the private elevator but the code changes every week and I didn't want to chance it then be caught like some burglar.

Not so far-fetched with the way my luck has been lately.

I sigh very, very deeply, "Well I was called so if you could just check with him..."

"I'm sorry Ms. I'm going to need to ask you to leave before I call security," The manager says sardonically.

Is he really doing this? Him of all people?

I look from the other two and back to him, "No, what you need to do is call the penthouse suite. I'm sure they'll let you know that they're expecting me."

His voice drips with condescension when he says, "You are not on the list and it is building policy for us to not let you in."

"Wait, aren't you the same guy who was asking me out my first day here?"

His face turns bright red with either anger or embarrassment but I remember turning him down a few times that very day. He was very persistent too, I had to threaten to kick his ass a couple of times if he didn't cut it out.

"I did no such thing," He denies to save face in front of his subordinates.

"Yeah? Then how did I get the codes for the penthouse lift these past week?" I'm frustrated now, "Or was it some other oily haired asshole in a suit leering at me at every turn and corner?"

He's definitely not letting me through so I might as well let him have it, and we both know he could get fired if the right people found out what he did the last couple of weeks.

The other guys behind the desk are averting gazes, trying not to react to my words but he is seething.

That scornful look of familiarity in his green eyes is back to kill -- our paths have crossed before and he knows exactly what my tongue can do.

He sneers at me. I sneer right back because fuck him.

He turns bright pink as his nostrils flare, "Now you listen you little -- "

"Is there a problem here?" Another masculine voice asks behind me.

They all look up and change their statures instantly. I take a quick glance and come across Mr Sin--

Standing behind me.

Looking too good and smelling too good in an expensive looking blue suit.

The atmosphere immediately shifts, these three men before me now start squirming and I love to see it.

The hatred in the manager's eyes is lessened by a fraction as he pats down his suit to regain his composure, "Uh no sir. This... woman is requesting entrance to the penthouse suite but she's not on Mr Sin's list of visitors."

I chuckle dryly and fix my hair before locking eyes with the manager again, "Now I'm this woman? No longer a welcomed member of the team? Because I wouldn't sleep with you... despite your threat like tenacity?"

Watch him turn the colour of polony, practically fuming, "I.. have... never--"

"This woman is a liar now too?" I cut him off again even though he looks like he's about to burst, "Because I can go into extreme detail if it pleases the court..."

I watch him take concerning deep breaths, loudly. He sounds like he just did a sprint.

If looks could kill...

"Okay, I'll handle this Mr Rens, thank you," Mr Sin says behind with some annoying laughter in his voice, "Ms Olifant, if you'd follow me..."

I look at him this time, really look at him... and yes, he is as gorgeous as I remember. Jonga, if a billion bucks was a person.

But his mirthful blue eyes do absolutely nothing for me, to me. He's just a really beautiful man.

I sigh heavily and follow him to the elevator bank, I can feel the glare of the manager on my back and that just gives me a little pep in my step.

After such a long day, it feels a little good to have won at least one battle even if it's just against some perverted man behind a desk.

"Nice of you to step in," I say flatly when we step into the eleven.

"I don't like sticking my nose where it doesn't belong," He retorts.

"Kinda seems like it belonged."

"You had him handled," He inputs this week's code.

Like I do everything else.

I'm Imani Olifant, the girl who handles everything.

He doesn't say anything after that but I can tell that he's smirking.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, the doors open.

"Ladies first," He says and stretches out his arm.

I almost scoff but decide that since he actually helped me out downstairs, I should be grateful. If it wasn't for him, I'd probably be locked up for murder a few seconds ago. I was that close to losing my shits.

Stepping into the foyer, I'm transported back to my very first day. Everything is black glass and shiny steel, and I was so scared to touch anything lest I break it and Lord knows I wouldn't have been able to replace it or even afford to fix it.

The foyer has always been bare, just one big mirror on the wall and a couple of weird paintings that I never paid mind to.

"Wanna wait in the kitchen?" He asks from behind me, I'm pretty sure he just wants me to walk ahead of him so that he can look at my ass and I can't say that I blame him.

I nod and lead the way but come to a stop as soon as I enter the kitchen.

My eyes widen a little as I take in the sight in front of me-- the sinfully sexy Mr Sin is half naked and has my friend Brie trapped against the kitchen counter.

Clearly I've walked in on something, his hands are in his pockets, zip and button undone, and she is grabbing on to the counter.. breathing unnaturally heavy.

And I can't tear my eyes away... from him. His posture is completely relaxed but there's something... intense about him. I can't figure it out.

The guy behind me clears his throat startling the pair. They stop and look at us; Brie with wide embarrassed eyes and this Mr Sin with absolutely no care in the world.

Brie struggles to cover herself with her hands before Mr Sin hands her his shirt which was lying by their feet.

Her face is red from all the blushing as she covers her bare legs with the shirt. Mr Sin however stays glaring at us and makes no attempt to cover his chest and torso.

"Ima, you came," Brie says excitedly as soon as she recovers. She runs to hug me but I put my hand up to stop her.

Did you?

"Oh no child don't touch me, I don't know what you've been doing," I wrinkle my nose.

She fidgets and takes a step back as her face becomes red again. Telltale. Mr Sin comes around her buttoning his pants with no care in the world.

"What the hell do you want?" He asks brashly.

"Oh shit, remember that company you asked me to take time off my businesses to help you start and run? Well, you didn't come to work and there are some papers that need to be urgently signed, " The man whom I now remember is called Zayn steps forward, "What about you gorgeous?" He turns to me.

I look from him to the pair before me, "Brie called."

Mr Sin raises an eyebrow at Brie who pouts and gives him her best puppy dog eyes, "You promised to hire her back babe," She says.

His jaw clenches, "No, I didn't and I don't need a damn maid-"

"Cleaner," I correct him.

He shoots me a death glare that I guess is supposed to intimidate me, "Especially her."

"What's wrong with me?" I frown, a bit offended by his sheer dislike of me.

"I don't like you."

"You don't know me."

"I don't need to," He shoots back, "Now leave and you Brie, go get your things."

Brie hangs her head and scurries out of the room. I frown at this. I don't like the way he just talked to her and I don't like the way Brie just took it. But I let it go, it is not my place anyway.

"Dixon, come on," Zayn admonishes.

But he just glowers at him, "She called us racists."

Okay yeah that was a bit mean but they called me a hooker so...

"I did not call you that," I jump in, "I mean, I may have unintentionally implied a few things but what you inferred is completely up to you."

I know it's bullshit but it's logical bullshit, and that's what counts.

They both frown at me. One with mild interest and the other with confused annoyance.

I, on the other hand, am exhausted -- my feet are sore, I have a headache and are those fucking period pains I'm starting to feel? Yoh.

And since it seems like I came all the way here for nothing, my mouth starts losing its shit.

"Okay, look," Already bad, "You don't know me, either of you. You don't know who I am, where I'm from and why the face," I turn to Mr Sin, "And yeah, Mr Sin, I think it's messed up that you came home to a total stranger in your... house? And maybe that's where all that," I wave my fingers over his form, "Animosity comes from but I think it's a bit misdirected."

"I disagree," He folds his arms and I'm not looking at them..

"Okay, we didn't get off on the right foot, but I didn't hire me, remember that. I didn't even know you existed until your girlfriend offered me the job--"

"Girlfriend," They both snort with derision.

But Zayn shakes his head and licks his lower lip as he looks back at me. His brother runs his hand through his hair before putting them both back in his pockets.

Where the fuck is Brie?

I can only make this worse.

"My point is, I didn't go about this the right way before and that's my bad..."

I was too desperate to think about what would happen if he'd actually get home and find me. My days were a game of Russian Roulette. And yeah I got hit.

"But?" Zayn says.

"But I didn't go through this shit of a life to come clean a man's flat, no offense," I really need to sit down, "Or a woman's for that matter. This is not my first, second or even hundredth choice. But it's the only choice I had at the time that I really needed it. Need. I have mouths to feed and things to handle."

A dark emotion quickly passes through his eyes before he masks it and clenches his jaw again, "Don't make your problems mine," His voice is hollow.

He leaves the room and Zayn gives me a sympathetic glance as I stand staring at the space at Mr Sin just occupied. Tears pool in my eyes as a strong feeling of defeat and helplessness fills me.

This was my last option.

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