CHAPTER THREE•|MY NEW BOSS.|

MARY POV.

Anyone in the world who didn't know Bastille Norman could possibly be an alien or an NFA (No future Ambition). He was the world richest man, a tech savvy, a tech genius who created lots of firewalls used by reputable companies, Including the FBI. He was also responsible for creating the most popular social app on planet Earth called 'Switch.' Everyone who had an Android phone was on 'Switch', and I wasn't left out. I mean, who wouldn't know Bastille Norman? He was Glamour magazine's most influential man in the world for four consecutive times in a row, with a net worth that looked like something one could only imagine. He was a role model to billions.

The name Bastille Norman was everywhere, on the news, regular sitcom shows, entertainment news - even Entertainment news was centered around his name, on the streets, even amongst the astronauts working in space.

And boy, did he like making headlines.

He was always on the news and on the newspaper front page for always doing something, even if what he did wasn't really spectacular, the news was always sure to carry it because everyone wanted to know what Bastille Norman was either doing, buying, eating, some paparazzi wouldn't even mind going some extra lengths to take a picture of him whilst he slept or took a dump.

Last he was on the news, it was because he bought a 17.5 million dollars car - a Pagani Zonda Hp Barchetta, making him the first person to buy a car of such a tremendous amount. I mean, he was Bastille Norman so definitely, money to him could seem like toilet paper.

I was damn sure if he wanted, he could go to space for a holiday alone and his bank account wouldn't be affected. He was insanely rich.

That man - Bastille Norman was the person that I'd be working for as his personal maid.

Honest to God, as I sat looking at Mrs Peterson, I was hyperventilating. I couldn't believe that I'd be working at such a close proximity to Bastille Norman. Not even in my wildest dreams had I imagined meeting him. Not in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined meeting a billionaire. Everything that was happening to me since that morning, it was something I wouldn't have imagined. And it was all thanks to Maria, who I couldn't thank enough.

She was the one who had somehow gotten me the job. The one who gave me the privilege to see the most expensive car in the world. The one who got me a Job for the world's richest man - Bastille Norman.

Tears of joy almost clouded my vision as I took my gaze to Maria who had a lip tight smile on her aged face. I placed my baggage on the floor and closed the gap between us before pulling her into a side hug. The excitement I felt at that moment was uncontrollable by my fragile heart.

"Thank you so much, Ma' Maria," I said, with tears threatening to fall out of my eyes. "I promise not to disappoint you, Ma' Maria."

I broke the hug and placed a light peck on her cheeks. She looked at me, love and affection in her eyes, and I swam in them with a happy heart.

"Sweet," the blonde commented and I strayed my gaze away from Maria and took it to her. "How I wish my daughter could be more like you."

Smiling awkwardly, I tucked a strand of my hair to the back of my ear but I said nothing in response, neither did Maria.

"Anyways," The blonde clapped her hands, standing up from where she was seated. "Is there anything you'd like me to offer you guys?"

I shook my head, so did Maria, but in all honesty, I was hungry. The toast I'd eaten in the morning did nothing to fill me up. "I should take my leave now." Maria stood up. I stood up also and pulled Maria in for a heartfelt hug.

"I'll miss you Ma' Maria," I said genuinely to her. "I'll really miss you."

She rubbed my back in comforting circles, and told me, "You'll live a better life now Mary, just work hard and listen to whatever your boss says."

"I will Ma' Maria," She broke the hug, holding my hands. "I will."

Maria grinned and brought one of her hands to my face while her other hand still held on to my right hand. "Why are you crying, dear?"

Was I crying? Honestly, I didn't even know tears were beginning to stream down my eyes. I touched my face and cleaned the tears off it. Stared at Maria whose hand was still on my cheek, smiled and pulled her back into a hug.

After our brief sentimental moment Maria finally left, leaving me all alone with the blonde with an Irish accent - Mrs Peterson.

"So shall we?" She asked me, and I looked at her, confused. "Well since you'd be working here I'll need to take you on a quick tour around the house." She clarified and I nodded.

Picking up my bag, I followed Mrs Peterson, grateful that she'd remembered to take me on a house tour because the Mansion was really big and there was no doubt that I wouldn't have been able to find my way alone. Our first stop was the kitchen, and believe when I say that I'd never seen a kitchen as elaborate as that.

The kitchen was well illuminated, with shining utensils one could ever ask for. The comfy Provencal kitchen was transportable high-tech, with beautiful machines.

"And this is the kitchen, obviously," Mrs Peterson said, picking up an apple from the fruit basket which was placed on the island. "You know what your duty is?"

I nodded, recounting all that she had said to me in the parlor.

"My nephew," She sat on a stool around the island, motioned for me to come sit next to her and I did, placing my baggage on the floor beside the stool.

She stretched an apple towards me and I collected it, appreciating her in return. And she smiled and continued talking, "It's been long since Bastille ate a home cooked meal, he doesn't even eat my food," She chuckled, but it sounded unhappy. Biting into her apple, she continued. "So Mary, even if he doesn't eat the food you prepare, don't feel bad, that's just who he is."