I splashed water over my face before hopping into the shower. It was six in the morning, and I only had an hour left to meet Mrs. Montgomery outside her boutique. It was my first meeting with Nathaniel Sinclair, whom I needed to impress for marriage.
What should I wear? How much makeup is adequate? And lastly, how should I wear my hair?
I didn’t know how to impress a regular man, let alone a billionaire.
John was my high school sweetheart. I had not been in a proper relationship with any other man. At our wedding, I had vowed to make it last forever. Who knew I would have to go back to catching the eye of single men? Not only that, but the quality of my present life and future relied heavily on my flirting skills.
What was the quickest way to a man’s heart?
Was it a woman’s curvy body? Even though I hated going to the gym, my body wasn’t bad to look at. I had a slim waist and was specifically blessed in the rear area and thighs as a pear-shaped beauty.
No, body was not the answer, as women with much better bodies must constantly throw themselves at him.
What about facial beauty, then? My face was much hotter than my body. I had mid-length, warm blonde hair. My oval face encompassed two big, deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, and pink plump lips. I had good facial symmetry, but I was no model.
Outer looks could matter to the billionaire. However, they were not the answer.
The answer lay in the warmth of my heart and actions. I needed to bring joy to the terminally ill man’s life. That’s how love worked for ordinary people. Hopefully, the elite class could see past shiny things and outer glow. Only time would tell that.
I jumped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around me. It was time to pick a dress among my limited formal clothing. As I was choosing a red strapless dress, the doorbell rang.
Who could it be? My crippling anxiety feared it to be those gangsters again. With a butcher knife, I went to the door and looked through the peephole.
“Mrs. Montgomery!” I exclaimed. It was my boss standing on my porch. She had never visited me at my place. Did she have a change of mind about our plan?
Hastily, I opened the door and greeted her.
“Ma’am. Why are you here? Is something wrong?”
Rose lowered her sunglasses and looked at me with concern. “Yes, something catastrophic.”
“What?” I felt a pinch in my heart. “Did they refuse to have me as their son’s caretaker?”
“Well, no, but they will if you meet them dressed in a towel,” she remarked.
I sighed in relief and chuckled at her joke. “I was about to change. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to drop by my house so early. I would have changed if I had known.”
“Hm. Why don’t you show me this dress you’re planning to wear to Sinclair’s estate?” she requested politely.
“Sure. Please come in.”
Rose Montgomery walked in, and her expensive eyes judged my small two-bedroom house. I feared her to have similar thoughts about my dress, too.
When I showed her my choice of attire, her face contorted in the meanest grimace. “I had a sinking feeling about this,” she said, dialing a number. “Come inside as quickly as possible,” she spoke on the phone.
An entire glam team came to my door. I let them in, and the glow-up transformation began. In silence, I let them work their magic on me. They made me change into an elegant drop-shoulder beige knee-length dress paired with nude heels. For my makeup, they chose subtle colors that accentuated the beauty of my features. Lastly, they finished my look with bouncy blowout curls and minimalistic yet classy accessories.
When they revealed the final look to me in the mirror, I was awestruck. I looked like a million dollars. All thanks to their hard work, Nathaniel would at least accept me as her new caretaker, if not wife.
“I love it!” I jumped with joy.
“Don’t get too excited.” Mrs. Montgomery glanced at her wristwatch. “This took way too much time. A chopper is coming to pick us up in five to ten minutes.”
“A what?” I asked with awe.
“A chopper. It’s the Sinclair’s dear. You are applying to be their only son's caregiver, and I’m his mother’s sister. Well, of course. No one expects us to get there by road.”
Exactly in ten minutes, the chopper picked us up from the roof of a high building. The feeling of sitting in a private helicopter was ineffable. Though it was only a snippet of the Sinclair family’s power and influence, I was already impressed.
The chopper dropped us to our destination sooner than I expected. The Sinclair estate stretched to a whopping three hundred acres. It took us a considerable time to reach their mansion within their lands.
Once inside the mansion, they immediately escorted us to a high-ceiling sitting room that screamed spectacular opulence.
Soon, a well-dressed middle-aged woman with a stiff and expressionless face, probably an unwanted side effect of too much Botox, joined us in that room.
“Hello, there. Welcome, Rose. I am ecstatic to see you here,” the woman started in the sweetest and humblest voice. “Is this the girl you talked about over the phone?” she asked, looking at me with delight.
“Yes. Amelia Walter, meet my elder sister, Mary Sinclair,” said Rose.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Sinclair.” I extended a friendly hand.
“Oh no. The pleasure is all mine. Please come and sit. I want you to be relaxed while we talk,” said Mrs. Sinclair.
“So, do you like Miss Walter?” Rose asked her sister once we were all seated on the couch.
Mrs. Sinclair grinned with a nervous energy. “She is gorgeous. Just like the rest of them.”
Was she calling me a bimbo without getting to know me?
“Well. Miss Walter’s gifts are not limited to her appealing looks. She has spent her entire life looking after one man. She even ran a successful restaurant with him. It would have become something great if the government hadn’t seized it for being a money laundering business,” Rose spoke for me.
It felt embarrassing to have my haunting past as the topic of discussion. I would have preferred to keep it a secret, but I understood why Mrs. Montgomery had to reveal it. Rich people wouldn’t hire anyone without a background check and a trustworthy recommendation.
“It’s outrageous what happened to you.” Mary Sinclair commented. “My condolences for your misfortune. I hope you can find justice one day.”
“Thank you,” I said with a lowered gaze.
“Shall we talk about business? I want to discuss your duties as my son’s new caretaker. Do you have any experience in healthcare? Or have you ever taken care of a seriously ill family member?”
“No.” I pressed my lips together. “If you don’t mind, can I ask what illness your son has?”
Mrs. Sinclair’s face went blank. She took a moment before replying, “The doctors don’t have a name for it. It’s so rare that my son is the only known case. That’s why we haven’t found a cure yet. Scientists are actively working on searching for one.”
One case in the entire world? Something was not right about that.
“I just want my son to be happy as before.” She pointed at a portrait of a man on the wall. “Look at that face, Miss Walter. It was taken before he got sick. See how happy he is. His beaming smile could light a thousand rooms. My son used to be the life of the party, and now he barely leaves his bedroom.”
I studied the picture while the distressed mother continued to talk about her son. Mr. Nathaniel Sinclair was one gorgeous man. He had dirty blonde hair, smooth tan skin, and magical hazel eyes with a strong masculine jaw that made my heart skip a beat. With so much wealth and handsomeness, he was truly the perfect man.
“Excuse me, Miss Walter. Can we discuss the contract now?” called Mary Sinclair, pulling me out of the magic of her son’s captivating looks.
“Huh? What contract?” I said, looking back at her.
“This.” She threw a file on the table. “Read this yourself or let your lawyer have a look at it. All it says is that you must take care of my son to the best of your ability and not disclose your duty or anything else you see or experience in our home. The pay shall be two thousand dollars per day.”
My jaw almost touched the ground. Did I hear the amount right?
“You will pay me what for a day?” I reconfirmed.
“Two thousand dollars. Is it less?”
Billionaire parents must be out of their minds to throw away their money for the simplest tasks. Two thousand dollars a day would make me wealthy in no time.
“Consider it done. Where do I need to sign?” I smiled like a Cheshire cat.
“Put it through your lawyer first,” said Mrs. Sinclair.
“No need for that. I trust you and Mrs. Montgomery, and I want to start my new job right away,” I said, imagining a debt-free life.
“Alright.” Mrs. Sinclair gave me a pen and instructed me where to sign.
“Just so you know, you can quit whenever you want,” she said while I was signing those pages like a maniac high on drugs.
“Why would I want to quit?” I mentally laughed at her for thinking I would ever do that. They were now stuck with me for a long time. After paying my ex-husband’s debts, I would stay a little longer to kick-start my professional life.
“Because_” she began, and the disturbing sounds of things being thrown around and smashed came from upstairs along with the angry shouting of a man.
“Looks like Nathaniel woke up, and he is not happy with his first meal,” said Mrs. Sinclair, giggling nervously at me. “Please reconsider my offer before you sign the last page. My son is sensitive and specific about his needs. He loses his mind if anything is not up to his expectations.”