Joan is a girl who's struggling to make ends meet and to pay for her mother's medical bills. A glimmer of hope appears when she gets invited for a job interview to work as a maid for the Stonewood family. Derrick Stonewood is a name that's well known. He's a billionaire and America's most eligible bachelor. However, he has a secret to his wealth. What happens when these two cross paths? Will they be able to keep their hands off each other? More over, what's the end result when business is mixed with pleasure?
JOAN'S POV
Sadness. Confusion.
These were the emotions that filled my heart as I sat in the hospital room. My heart felt like a heavy weight in my chest, and my mind swirled with so many thoughts and emotions. I had no idea what to do.
The beeping of the heart monitor filled the room. It was a reminder of my mother's fragile state. Each beep was a signal that she was still here, but only just. I watched her, my heart breaking at the sight. Tubes and wires were attached to her limp body, her chest rising and falling shallowly. Her face, once so full of life, was now pale. Her lips were colorless, as she lay motionless in the hospital bed.
It felt like only moments ago that I was job hunting and them the call came. The panic in the nurse's voice told me everything before the words even registered. My mother had suffered a heart attack. The ambulance had rushed her here, but she had slipped into a coma.
A lump formed in my throat as I gazed at her. She had always been my rock. Now, it was my turn to be strong for her, but I didn't know how.
Tears filled my eyes as I thought about how far we had fallen. How had it come to this? I looked at the ceiling, trying to calm myself but it was no use.
Hospitals were supposed to be places of healing, yet to me, they felt like prisons. The white walls, the harsh smell, the fluorescent lights-it all seemed designed to remind you of your sadness. The colour 'white' had always been so depressing to me.
I sighed, wishing the walls could be a different color. Maybe then, this place wouldn't feel so bad.
I looked at my mom, feeling sad once more. She didn't deserve this. I wished there was something I could do to help.
I had no money, no job, no way to pay for the treatment she needed. I'd spent all my savings trying to keep up with her piling medical bills, and now, there was nothing left. I had dropped out of school to take care of her, to work any job I could find. But even that wasn't enough.
I had a stable job once, as a secretary in a good firm. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills-until my boss decided that my body was part of the job description. I tried to tolerate it, to keep quiet for the sake of my paycheck, but the day his hand slipped under my skirt, I knew I couldn't stay. I walked out, knowing I would be left with nothing, but at least, my dignity would be intact. Yet there were moments, when the fear of losing everything made me question if I should have just put up with it.
I felt like a failure. My mother had always been so strong, so sure of herself, and I couldn't even protect her now. My tears fell freely as I tried to think of a way out of this nightmare.
Just then, the door opened, and I quickly wiped my eyes, trying to compose myself. A doctor entered the room with a serious expression. I noticed that the collar of his lab coat was stained with a faint smear of blood. It was almost unnoticeable, but I noticed it-just as I noticed everything. This habit of fixating on details overwhelmed me sometimes, adding to my anxiety.
He glanced at me, then at my mother's still form.
"Miss Joan?" said "I'm Dr. Williams. I wanted to talk to you about your mother's condition."
I nodded. My eyes were still glued to the blood on his coat.
Who did it belong to? Was it someone else's blood or his? Was that person still alive? I knew I should be paying attention to what Dr. Williams was saying, but my mind was desperate for any distraction.
"Miss Joan?" Dr. Williams repeated, louder this time, snapping me back to the present.
I sat up straighter, forcing myself to focus.
"I'm sorry," I whispered "Please, doctor, tell me-what can we do?"
"As you know, your mother is currently in a coma. We can try different treatments, but they come with a cost."
His words made my heart drop even further. My pulse quickened, knowing that the answer I feared was coming.
"What... what kind of cost are we talking about?" My voice trembled as I asked.
"The initial treatment will cost around fifty thousand dollars, and that's just the beginning. There will be follow-up procedures, medications, rehabilitation..."
His words blurred as the numbers swirled in my head. Fifty thousand dollars? I didn't even have fifty cents to my name. My hands trembled as I clutched the arms of the chair, trying to hold on to something.
"I... I don't have that kind of money," I murmured "What am I supposed to do?"
Dr. Williams looked at me with a sympathetic expression "I understand this is a difficult situation for you. We can explore financial assistance programs, maybe discuss payment plans, but... I won't lie to you-it won't be easy."
The tears I'd been holding back broke free again, streaming down my face.
Why did life have to be so hard? Why did everything have to come down to money?
"I'll do anything, doctor," I pleaded "Please, just help my mom. She's all I have."
Dr. Williams nodded "We'll do our best. We'll find a way."
I sniffled, wiping at my tears with the back of my hand. "Thank you, doctor,"
He gave me a small, sad smile before leaving the room, and I was alone again. I moved closer to my mother, taking her hand in mine. Her skin was cold.
I had to do something. I couldn't let money be the reason my mother didn't get the care she needed. But what could I do?
As I sat there, lost in thought, the door opened again. I turned, expecting the doctor, but instead, my best friend - Bea walked in.
"Hi, sweetie," Bea said softly. "I'm so sorry."
She crossed the room quickly and wrapped me in a hug. I held on to her tightly as I sobbed.
When she pulled away, Bea looked at my mother with a sad, empathetic expression. She knew how much my mom meant to me, how hard this was she and my mom were close too.
"How are you holding up?" she asked gently.
I sighed "It's been tough, Bea. I don't know what to do. The medical bills are piling up, and I'm completely broke."
"I may have a solution to that,"
I looked at her in confusion "What do you mean?"
"Do you remember Stephanie?"
Of course, I remembered Stephanie from College. She was one of those girls who seemed to have it all-wealth, beauty, and connections. Her father was a senator, and she had always carried herself with an air of superiority that made it clear she knew exactly how powerful she was. We had never been close; in fact, she had always looked down on me.
"What about her?" I asked.
"I talked to her, and she mentioned that there's a job opening through her connections,"
My heart leaped at the thought of a job, any job. "What is it?"
"You know the billionaire Derrick Stonewood?" Bea continued. "His household is looking for a maid. But not just any maid-their maids are elite, highly paid. I managed to get Stephanie to secure a slot for you. The interview is in two days, at his estate."
She handed me an envelope. Inside was an invitation, an golden piece of paper, inviting me to an interview at the Stonewood estate. I stared at it, hardly believing what I was seeing.
Derrick Stonewood.
The name alone was filled with wealth, power, and luxury. He was a billionaire, the kind of man whose name appeared in tabloids and magazines. He was always in the news despite his low key lifestyle.
His family had a long history of wealth, with businesses spanning everything from oil and gas to technology. And Derrick himself was famous for his good looks and his status as one of America's most eligible bachelors.
Could I really work for someone like him? Would I even be good enough?
"Are you sure I can get this?" I muttered.
"Hey," Bea said, taking my hand and squeezing it. "Stephanie put in a good word for you. And besides, they're going to love you. You've got this."
I looked down at the floor, feeling a bit doubtful. This was my chance, my one shot to change everything. I had to try, for my mom's sake.
I looked up at Bea "Thank you so much."
She smiled "Anything for you, Joan. Now, come on. We've got work to do."
And with that, I started to feel hopeful. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep going, enough to keep fighting for my mom.
And as long as there was a chance, no matter how small, I wouldn't give up.
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