Emily looked in the direction of the voice and found a middle-aged woman. She, too, sported the all-black uniform of the service, with her hair pulled back in a bun and her face bare of any cosmetics or jewelry.
Emily was so terrified that she thought she had blown her shot at the job even before she had begun working there.
"I'm sorry," she apologized in a high-pitched voice.
"I believe you are Maria Lopez, if I am correct?" The older woman questioned her.
"Yes!" she responded without pausing for thought. Even though guilt filled her for lying about her identity, she had no time to wallow in that because she had a son that needed feeding.
"Since this is your first day, I'll give you a pass on being late, but I want you to know that I don't take kindly to disobedience or tardiness. Do you get what I'm saying?"
"Yes, madam," all the ladies responded in unison.
Once dressed in her uniform, which was nothing other than a knee-length black dress and white apron with the rule of tying one's hair back.
"You come here!" Emily froze on the spot but quickly forced herself to turn and face Dorothy.
"Yes, madam" she answered. Dorothy offered her a white bandana, which Emily accepted but stared at with confusion written over her face.
"You seem perplexed, and I can understand why. Well, let me try to shed some light on this for you" Dorothy told her, "That scar on your forehead is an issue" Emily's scar on her forehead was brought to the forefront once more as she brought her palm to her forehead and realised how obvious it was.
"What is wrong with my scar?"
"Unfortunately, our employer sees scars as deformities, amongst other things. It's best you keep this bandana on at all times, and one last thing."
"Yes, Madam Dorothy."
"When you're speaking to him, always make sure that your head is facing down, and never look at him in the eyes," she warned. Emily simply nodded her head in agreement and continued cleaning the counter.
**
"I heard that most people here don't last long." Emily turned her head in the direction of another woman who she had seen at the orientation. "Hi, my name is Sam, and who are you?"
"Maria, Maria Lopez," Emily lied but continued doing her work; the last thing she wanted was to get fired on her first day of work.
"Nice name, by the way."
"Thank you," Emily responded before walking away from Sam, but Sam swiftly followed her and continued talking.
"You smell nice; what is that?"
"Light notes of cinnamon and vanilla fragrance"
"Well, it smells nice; this is the first time I am smelling such a fragrance," Sam continued speaking.
"Thank you"
"Did you buy it?" Sam pressed on with her questions, and Emily was nearly at the point of pushing her away, but she opted for kindness instead.
"I made the fragrance myself; it was just something I learned, I guess."
"Well, I must say—"
"Sam, I suggest that you stop bothering Emily and get back to your work," Dorothy told Sam, who nodded her head and walked away from Emily. Lowering her head, Emily continued working until Dorothy whistled and everyone stopped what they were doing.
"Now, second team, please proceed to the servants' quarters. There is food waiting for you, and you have an entire hour to have your lunch"
Without wasting any second, all the women from the second team, including Emily, made their way towards the servant's quarters.
**
Instead of waiting for his driver to unlock the doors to his heavily armored car like he always did, Angelo walked himself out and was followed by at least four bodyguards.
His anger could not be measured because today's anger had surpassed the previous night.
After losing yet another business to this mysterious person, he dispatched his assistant to ensure that the nasty worker who had insulted him would never work in New York again.
But once Angelo walked into his house, he paused. Shutting his eyes, he allowed the beautiful, sweet scents of cinnamon and vanilla to fill his nostrils. It was like a familiar memory locked up in the back of his mind where he could not reach it, but what he did know was that it calmed him.
"Sir—" Angelo silenced whoever was calling out to him by simply raising his hand. He needed peace—the kind of peace that would allow him to appreciate such a moment.
Suddenly life was no longer fast-paced and everything moved slowly; he could even remember his late mother, or rather the happy memory that came with her. He opened his eyes as the smell faded, and he was disappointed with the reality he was met with.
Dorothy stood before him with her hands on her sides like some soldier, and she was neatly dressed. He liked that about her; she brought order to her house, and with her, nothing was out of place.
"What is that smell?" he asked of her. The confusion was clearly evident in her face, forcing Angelo to come to terms with the fact that he might have been imagining the entire thing. He waved it off.
"Okay, sir, but I just wanted to inform you that the new recruits have arrived."
"Oh great, more people for me to fire. Have one of them bring some coffee to my room."
"I will do just that, sir," Dorothy responded as she watched Angelo walk up the steps instead of taking the elevator, a clear sign that he was angry about something.
You're slowly losing your power; your father will be so disappointed in you. Angelo's mind taunted him and further fueled his frustration with all that was happening around him.
Once he entered his room on the third floor, Angelo jumped into the shower and turned on the water. The cold water against his skin was just what he needed to cure some of the anger he felt.