23 The New Worker
Kaila
What on earth was I told that there were too many other people, but why me? Was there no other beautiful girl in the world that all the punishments were given to me? After many times that the old woman-who looked like a hag-cheated me, I was afraid that that ugly woman might cheat me again. She was so hateful that she couldn't see the wrong things she did.
I would never trust anyone again, especially those boys, because they would only fool me. I would spend my time doing something that could make me happy and make me forget the greatest tragedy that happened. I would not look for those things which I didn't have; instead I would be contented with what I had. I realized that the more I searched for something, the more it became impossible to find.
What happened didn't show a bad result from all angles. There were always positive sides to every situation. I didn't need to worry about negotiating with Nick's parents, and I would not think about that boy anymore. Especially since I knew nothing about the way my parents ran a business, I might only lose something.
Sitting on the porch, looking outside the open metal bar and black-painted gate, Looking everywhere except where the thick, hard, solid ice lies. The spot where a heinous crime was committed by my hands many days ago.
The worms might have already eaten the guard's flesh, a pitiable guard who did nothing wrong to me. Those problems were unavoidable, because even if I slept about them, they would find a way to show themselves, even in my dreams. I heard a sound which seemed to be a walking horse. I wasn't wrong. There was a horse carrying a carriage. It stopped in front of our gate, and a handsome man stepped out of the carriage.
I didn't know who he was. Maybe one of the workers, or an acquaintance of one of the workers. I knew that sometimes their acquaintances visited them, especially if there was something important.
The man was wearing a gray shirt, white pants, and boots. He went towards the gate and pressed the button for the doorbell to ring. He looked innocent and kind. Maybe he was also respectful and clever because he did not enter the open gate.
I didn't want to judge him too soon. He must prove himself to gain others' trust. He couldn't please everyone. Nobody heard the doorbell. Everyone was busy, so I donned my cork-soled boots and went towards the gate.
I grasped the black-painted metal bar and attempted to say a word, "Who are you?" I gazed at his face.
"Good afternoon, miss Beautiful. If I wasn't wrong, you're the princess in this huge mansion. Am I right?" He slowly took my hand and kissed it, but I abruptly took it from him. "Sorry, but you don't need to do that. I'm not used to it."
He stood up straight and firmly, like a hard tree, looked at my eyes and asked, "Your eyes are both so beautiful. Can I know your name?"
"I'm Kaila Breaks." I told him.
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Maybe something broke inside of him when he heard my name. That might be the reason why I was always broken. But it wasn't my mistake if I had that kind of name. I knew it wasn't eligible because I was so beautiful for that name. But as my dad said before, "we cannot judge someone through his or her name and appearance."
A respectful person wouldn't judge others by their names or appearance. If they were respectful, they would not say anything bad about others. My dad also told me that one could only gain respect and real power if he also respected himself and the people around him.
The man took something from the thick ice by my feet. He stood up and looked at my eyes again. He had light brown eyes, a high, Roman nose, high eyelashes, thick eyebrows, and some hair on his cheeks and chin. He had a brooding shoulder that carried a gray backpack.
"Miss Kaila, can I wear this necklace?" He put a necklace on my front. It was shining, though there was no sunlight.
I knew that necklace was mine and I inherited it from my mother, whom she said that she had inherited it from her mother and so on. I also knew how expensive it was because it was made from real gold. I promised Mom that whatever happened, I would not pawn it.
My mom was right, because even me, this necklace-I could smell the memories of the mom of my mom, the mom of my grandma, the mom of my great grandma, and so on...NôvelDrama.Org content.
I took the necklace from his hand, but inadvertently, his hand held mine. In the few seconds that followed, my world turned slowly, and then he said, "Sorry." He removed his hand from mine and looked away.
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I wore the necklace all by myself. I was still lucky that I had not lost it. My mother would definitely show me again and she might pinch my ear and say, "You're a careless girl. If your ears weren't attached to your head, you have already lost them too."
The man turned back, and I slipped off into a reverie. He wasn't old at all; perhaps he belonged in his early twenties, and he was so attractive that he had captured both my eyes and heart. But the thing I loved about him was his demeanor. He was so respectful and gentle that I witnessed his transformation even though we had just met.
I came back to consciousness when he said, "Miss Kaila, my friend who works here told me that you need someone who can work for you."
"Um... yeah! I need someone who can work for me because there are many jobs waiting here. Just go to Amara if you want to apply. She will supervise you," I replied.
"Okay, miss beautiful." He turned and attempted to leave.
"Wait, can you tell me your name? So that we can get to know each other, because it would be unfair that I was the only one who told you who I am and I know nothing about you."
He turned back and said, "I'm Steven Klee. You may call me Steve or whatever you want. Miss Kaila Breaks."
"Okay, Steve, you may continue. Maybe Amara is inside the kitchen."
He showed me the most beautiful smile I had ever seen, then he turned to leave. His backpack seemed to be heavy because it was bulky, and I also noticed on his face that he was exhausted. Maybe he came from a faraway place. I wasn't totally merciless that I wouldn't accept him to work here, or else he would go back shrugging.