Chapter 2 Not in My Job Description

Bianca let out a cold laugh. "So what if you're a simultaneous interpreter? Do you really think the world would stop turning without you?

"I bought Arthur the newest AI interpreting earbuds. The underlying technology is a hundred times better than a human interpreter like you. What's more, they don't come with your attitude."

I nodded, untied my apron, folded it neatly, and set it on the table. "Then, I wish you every success with your AI-powered solution."

I turned and walked toward the door.

Audrey stood there holding a mug of herbal tonic that had long since gone cold.

"Sophia, you're really clocking out just like that? You've worked for this family for 10 years, and we've never mistreated you. Swallow your pride, and I'll have Bianca raise your salary to $4,000."

I stopped and looked back. "Mrs. Shaw, $4,000 isn't enough to pay for your bedtime aromatherapy."

Audrey's expression darkened. "What an ungrateful brat."

Bianca called out sarcastically from behind me, "Let her leave. We've fed her greed. I'll hire three cleaners from the temp agency tomorrow. They'll cost less than $5,000 altogether, and their work will be far more detailed than hers."

I pushed the front door open and slowly walked back to the tiny room I rented on the back street behind Shaw Estate.

This was the first time in 10 years that I had gotten off work at 6 p.m.

Now, I no longer had to prepare medicinal meals, translate business documents, and suffer endless complaints from Audrey.

Instead, I could cook myself a simple bowl of noodles in clear broth and curl up on the couch to watch TV.

My phone started vibrating nonstop. It was the Shaw family's internal work chat.

Bianca was busy issuing orders.

"Everyone in this house will be required to clock in and be evaluated under a KPI system starting today."

"I'll be putting Mr. Shaw's medication schedule and Mrs. Shaw's sleep cycle into Excel spreadsheets."

"We're going to build a seamless, end-to-end health management system."

I looked at the screen full of meaningless corporate buzzwords and immediately muted the chat.

After I finished my noodles, I took a hot shower and went to bed.

As I closed my eyes, I couldn't help but recall how I got to where I was today. It all began 10 years ago.

My grandmother had been lying in the emergency room when Harrison pressed a bank card into my hand. "Kid, take this and save her. If you make something of yourself, help me look after the Shaw family for 10 years."

Luckily for me, tomorrow would be the last day of those 10 years.

I rolled over and drifted into a deep sleep.

…

I was standing in the kitchen at Shaw Estate at 7 a.m. sharp.

The cheap cook Bianca had just hired was frantically chopping vegetables.

Frederick took one bite of the food on his plate and immediately spat it out. "What is this slop?"

Bianca came downstairs in her slippers. "Mr. Shaw, this is the healthy low-calorie meal I ordered for you. It fits today's holistic wellness approach."

Frederick's face turned livid. "I have gout, but you served me seafood salad?"

Bianca froze for a moment. Then, she turned and glared at me as I wiped down the table.

"Sophia, did you do this on purpose? Mr. Shaw has gout. Why didn't you make that clear during the handover? What were you trying to pull?"

I kept wiping down the mahogany dining table without even looking up.

"Ms. Vance, the pay cut agreement was perfectly clear. I'm only a cleaner now. A $3,000 cleaner is only responsible for wiping tables and sweeping floors.

"An employer's medical history, dietary restrictions, and health management fall under the responsibilities of a private nutritionist and a senior house manager.

"Since you're so determined to flatten the management structure, you should know that every job has its own set of responsibilities."

Bianca was left speechless with rage. Eventually, she snapped, "Stop hiding behind that excuse. How did you manage everything in the past? Why was Mr. Shaw fine eating seafood back then?"

I straightened up as I replied blandly, "Because I was making $50,000 back then. I kept Mr. Shaw's gout under control with medicinal meals made from my own proprietary recipes.

"Now that my salary has been cut, those recipes are my intellectual property. Naturally, they are not included in the services you get for $3,000."

Bianca ground her teeth in rage. "When you were making $50,000, everything you developed belonged to the Shaw family. Taking those recipes with you now is theft of company property."

I looked at her coldly. "Ms. Vance, if the Shaw family is a company, then you're more than free to sue me. Do you need me to give you the phone number for the Shaw family's legal department?"