Babysitting Job

 Amelia's

***

"This is the person you'll be babysitting." The lady said something that stunned me.

I locked my gaze on the guy I had offended, my savior... completely perplexed My eyes returned to the woman. “H–him?”

She glowed and smiled, clearly pleased with herself. "He, yes."

"B-but he isn't a kid!" The obvious was said.

"I know, sweetheart, but I never said you'd be babysitting a child. So, what are your thoughts? Are you going to keep your job?"

Will I? Do I even have a choice?

My gaze returned to the man who appeared to be amused by my plight. He waited for my response with his brows lifted.

I inhaled deeply and raised my head to meet the woman's stare, ready to make my choice.

*

~ Two days earlier ~

*

I ordered the cab driver to hurry up because the live TV broadcast was about to start.

"Please drive quicker, it's almost time!"

"Calm down, Miss; this is my speed limit; I can't go any faster."

I tapped my fingers and toes impatiently, wishing I could disappear from here and appear in front of my television if I had magic. We soon arrived at my modest house, which only includes two rooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room. It isn't particularly attractive, but it is manageable and livable, and it is the ideal location for me and my grandmother, Claire. I call her Mamita on sometimes just to annoy her.

I paid for the cab, removed my shoes, and dashed inside our flat. Claire was watching some boring old movie when I barged inside.

"Oh, my goodness!" exclaimed claire. “Did you offend someone again? Don't tell me you're being chased.” she said with a hand on her chest. I've always had a proclivity for getting myself into problems and then fleeing to avoid being caught, so I understand her attitude.

"No Mamita, I need to see this before it ends, and I didn't insult anyone!" I said after a brief pause. ”Well, none that I know of.”

 Regardless of her age, Mamita is a drama queen. She is sixty-two years old, but she appears to be younger, and she adores fashion. We're not particularly wealthy — we're middle-class — but she loves to dress to impress with what little she has. Though hers is a little out of the ordinary, her textile colors don't always match... That isn't simply a cliche.

I pick up the remote from the table and change the channel to my favorite, and there he is, Kade Preston Saint. Mamita was saying something, but it sounded distant to me because all of my attention was on him.

The hostess was questioning Kade about the new technology he had just introduced. I breathed a sigh of relief when he opened his mouth and began speaking; everything about him, even his voice, is so lovely. I was transfixed by his chiseled jawline, which was framed by his thick brows, lips, and set of deep green eyes. Despite the fact that his face appeared cold, expressionless, and distant, he is nonetheless adorable.

"So, Mr. Saint, do you have a girlfriend?" the hostess asked, her hand on his leg.

Okay… Is she teasing him on live television?

"Haha you're correct Mr. Saint, thanks for being here," the hostess said, blushing scarlet.

Then it was over.

"Mamita!" I screamed as a pillow was hurled at my head

“Serves you right, Amelia Stone! It's not healthy to be obsessed with someone you'll never meet!"

I huffed. Please don't tell me we're going to have this conversation again; I'm sick of it.

"Mamita, it's a crush, not an obsession. And, before you say anything else, I'm not the only one who is smitten with him; millions of women, including you, are smitten with him!" I yelled angrily.

She shrugs her slender shoulder, knowing I've caught up with her. "In my situation, Lia, I'm an adult who can have feelings for anyone besides you! You need a real boyfriend, not a fantasy boyfriend."

Well, how can I quit crushing on someone I've liked since I was fourteen?

I decided to shift the subject because it wasn't leading us anywhere," I'm hungry Mamita, is there anything to eat?" 

"Check the counter in the kitchen," she said as she let go. And your pal Chelsea just dropped by, saying she'd be right back."

“Oh!”

I brought the meal to my room and then went through my closet looking for something to wear for tonight's dancing. Actually, I'm a designated driver, but I dance in a downtown club because it's something I enjoy doing — not stripper dancing, but hip hop dancing. It also generates additional revenue. The men at the bar frequently want me to strip dance, but displaying my body to horny men isn't my thing; I can do that in a more private location, such as my room.

Mamita took up my care after my parents passed away. Later, when I discovered that the money my parents had left was nearly depleted, I was forced to seek employment. That's how I met Mr. Craig, the bartender at the venue where I dance. I sustain the family with the little money I make there and my part-time employment.

My name is Amelia Stone, and I am twenty-one years old and a high school dropout, as you are well aware. I have fiery red hair that never stretches and constantly curls, although it's lengthy, and my face is covered with light freckles. If you look attentively, you'll never notice it.

I sat down on my couch after looking for appropriate attire. Then, I settled down on my bed and started eating. I was gulping down my orange juice when the door burst open.

“Lia! Let's go fúck some married men!” Chelsea, my only friend, said out of a blue.

"What?" I exclaimed as the wine spat out of my mouth, leaving me choking. I inhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry, that came out incorrectly. Let's go shag some affluent married guys," I meant to say.

"What the hell?" I asked, looking at her.

That's the same thing, right? And, before you say it again, it's a big no. I'm not going to do it. I'm not looking for married men."

"Come on, Lia, let's have some fun! We are talking about billionaires. We've never done it before, Lia, and tonight is our last chance... What are your thoughts? Yes?”

"What do you mean, tonight is our only chance?" I asked, looking up at her. That part caught my eye, I have a feeling she's not telling me something.

She jumped onto my bed, excitement is written all over her face,” I don't know the full gist of it, but I heard that some rich dudes will be at club X tonight. We want to avoid missing this opportunity Amelia, who knows, we might hook up with one of them…” She wiggles her brows at me.

“Hm, I'm not going. I need to go to the bar.”

She grinned, “I knew you'd say that, so I told Mr. Craig you're sick.”

“You what? How could you do that without my permission! I just lost a few bucks.” I pouted.

“I know, I'm sorry, okay? That's why I bought you this dress to make up for it.”

 I noticed the bags she was holding and opened the one she gave me. A gasp slipped out of my mouth when I saw it, “Wow! It's beautiful, but —”

Chelsea cuts me off before I could finish, "Don't say it, I know it's too short, but you have to wear it like that. I don't care if you hate revealing clothes.” She said as a matter of fact.

“I was about to say it's too expensive and, well, that too.” 

Chelsea came from a rich family, so money isn't her problem, we became friends at the age of seventeen. Her parents despise me, to them, I'm a bad influence on their daughter, but Chelsea doesn't heed their demands to stay away from me.

She rolled her eyes, “Is that a yes?”

Just then, Mamita knocked on the door, “Amelia, I'm off to Gracias's house, won't be back till tomorrow afternoon!”

“Okay, Mamita!"

I met Chelsea's gaze after my grandma left and smile, “Fine, let's do this, but I'm just going to have fun at Club X, NOT to sleep with anyone.”

"Do as you please, dear. That reminds me, this morning I spotted a babysitting job advertised on the internet."

“Babysitting? You know I can't do that; I already have too many jobs, and I'm not good with kids!"

"I know," Chelsea acknowledges, "but the compensation is significantly greater than your prior positions." They never said you'd be babysitting kids for $1000 per day!"

"One thousand?" I exclaim, surprised. Now that I think about it, I might be able to do this job, but who will I babysit if it isn't kids?" I enquired, frowning. If I can get that much per day, I might be able to improve my schoolwork while also helping Mamita live in a better environment.

She shrugs, “Who knows? An old man perhaps? It wasn't stated there and since it's one thousand dollars per day I know they'll be freaking rich. Anyway, I know you can do it, I don't think there's anything you can't do. Now, get your ass up! Let's get you primed up.”