Chapter 112 Little Facility
BELLA'S POV
I hated the smirk on my mom's face as she turned to look at me. “This is something you can do honey,” she said in a sweet tone, and I quickly shook my head.
The last thing I wanted to do was be a cleaner. In a hospital. That was literally the closest to catching all those germs and illnesses. I didn't want to go home smelling like drugs and chemicals. That was the same thing that we always laughed at Anna about. I couldn't live that life. I would never forgive myself if I did that.
“You're kidding, right?” I asked my mom, and she looked at me like I was mad.
“Did you see a fucking smile on my lips?” She asked, raising her voice slightly. She was losing her patience. Maybe if I pushed more and she snapped just a little more, she would chase me out of the house. That was the last thing I wanted. I wasn't a lucky girl who had rich friends around her. My own friends were as broke as fuck. The type that couldn't even bring one flower and at least one of the cheapest chocolates when going to see a sick person.
“Fine,” I said, rubbing my palm around my arms as I headed back inside when I noticed that both of us were bringing undue attention to ourselves.
“Hello,” I said with a fake smile on my lips. The receptionist returned the exact type of smile. She knew that the smile was fake, and she didn't have a problem letting me know that she knew.
“What do you want?” She asked.
“Is this how you reply to people that come to your… little facility?” I asked, already losing my anger.
See? This was the reason why I couldn't work in places like this. The people who are put in charge have the brattiest attitude.
“You want the cleaning job?” She asked impatiently, when she noticed the people who were standing behind me. I looked down at her cute name tag.
“Not like you pay the salaries, Priscilla. But yes.”
She sneered, before gesturing into the hallway of offices. Last one to the left. I gave her a curt nod, tipping my chin before heading towards the hall. Just as expected, my mom had already abandoned me.
“I'll meet you at home, I guess,” I muttered to myself as I walked down the empty hall.
I took in the name, Daniel Quinn. I cocked an eyebrow. All these people. They were always lucky to have a posh-looking name. Names that could barely be forgotten. They didn't end up with something like Bella whatever my surname was.
I didn't hesitate to tap on the door with my knuckles.
I heard a quick “come in”. I quickly pushed the door open, taking in the fit man who stood in a suit. He looked like he was an athlete. I felt slightly small with the way his eyes swept over me. He had a frown on his face.
“Is everything okay, Miss…?” He started.
“Hayes,” I was quick to complete. “And yes. I'm applying for the cleaner job. So…I was asked to meet you.”
“Ah, yes,” he said, rubbing a hand over his chin. “My sister, Anna was supposed to be the one doing that. But she's not in.”
I nodded, barely taking in any of the information that he was giving me. How did he manage to get abs that were so visible through his crisp white shirt?
“Your resumé,” he said, extending one of his hands as he tapped away on his laptop with his free hand. When he saw that no documents entered his hands, he cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Please, tell me that you came with your resumé.”
I rubbed my hands against my gown. Why was this man suddenly making me feel nervous without even saying a word? Where the hell was my attitude?
“I didn't know I needed a resumé to apply for such a job.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Such a job? You're looking down on the cleaning job?”
I didn't hesitate to tip my chin as I nodded. He scoffed, placing a hand on his waist.
“How many degrees do you have?” He asked, and I felt myself get even smaller. My tipped chin was immediately brought down. I was already feeling provoked even if I didn't have the right to me.
“I graduated from high school,” I whispered. For the first time, I was ashamed that I didn't really have any degrees to show. My mom and dad usually pressured me to complete my studies. Graduate from college, and maybe even do an MBA or something. I didn't have interest in those things. I deserved to be put at home and pampered.
My mom was a working-class wife. And look just how far that managed to get her.
Daniel ran his hands through his face. “We need a cleaner urgently. The last one just left because she and her husband felt it would be best if she didn't work through her pregnancy.”
I nodded. “Maybe she should have closed her legs.”
“Did you say something?” He asked, and I quickly shook my head.
A part of me didn't want this job. While the other half wanted to take the job if I would get to see him every day.
“Are you sure you want this job?”
“Yes,” I answered as firmly as I could.
“Fine then,” he said, extending his hands for a handshake. “You have it.”
It was unbelievable. The universe had to be working in my favor. As I looked down at the hand that he extended for a handshake, I felt the pizza that was in my stomach turn.
I took the handshake, and his hands were slightly calloused, just as I thought they would be. He withdrew from the handshake a little too quickly.
“You can just drop your email with the receptionist. Your contract terms would be sent to you there. Understood?” He asked, and I nodded, turning around to head out of the office when he called out to me.
“I don't even know your name,” he said.
“Bella,” I managed to squeak.
“Bella, I'm Daniel. Once my sister returns from her vacation, I'll be out of this office. The least you can do is show her that I didn't make a mistake by hiring you. Understood?” He asked.
“Of course,” I said. I was just about to leave when he spoke up again.
“And if you're going to be working here, then kill that attitude.”
I was fully grinning by the time I was back at the reception.
“Seems you got the job,” Priscilla said in a sneer. I didn't even have the energy for any of her taunts.
“I was asked to drop my email address with you,” I said in the sweetest tone possible. She could throw out my email address for all I knew. And then, I would never get my contract.
“Just write it down here,” she said, pushing a paper towards me. I wrote it down with shaky hands.
I wasn't exactly proud that my first job was as a janitor. I didn't have much of a choice anyway.
I pushed it back towards her, trying to contain the sudden sickening feeling that I had in my stomach.
Just as I headed out of the building, my phone buzzed, and I was staring right at my contract. I signed it on my phone, sending it back to the organization.
As I pressed send, the sickening feeling got even worse. It had to do with me being in a literal clinic for more than an hour, right?
A part of me was telling me that it wasn't the reason. But I didn't even care. Things were about to change, and I could feel it.