Books Similar To The Housemaid Mga Nobela at Kwento

Ray had made it clear that the parents had warned them to stay clear of my path. I didn't want to lose my only job, I couldn't afford to. A few hours later, I had already changed Bryson's beddings, made Ray's bed and now I was unpacking. The room was pretty good for a housemaid like me. It had a canopy bed, dresser, Tv cabinet and a walk in wardrobe. I only had a few clothes, the closet was so big for my few old tees and sweats. I didn't own any jewellery, not even a single pair of earrings. Mmmh I'll just leave my clothes in the suitcase like before, and just take out my toothbrush.

It seems like I'll be needing a new maid That was my maid who just quit her job And i only gave her that bonus because she has been with me for a long time And she has been loyal. You might be wondering why a wealthy man like me would have only one maid for a mansion as big as mine Well i don't want too much females around me, they make me sick So i hire housekeepers who are all males, they take care of the house While my maid takes care of all the cooking in the house ****************************** ************* Caleb my maid just quit her job so i want you to put out a poster for the job okay ''Okay sir''

I put the books on the window ledge, the frame on the bed on the bedside table, the toy on the zigzag corner wall wooden shelf— at first uncertain whether it was okay for me to do that. But I shrugged it off. Remembering how he was last night, I assumed Dr. Gabriel— Gabriel wouldn’t mind. The house was up early, too, though not loudly. It had a rhythm, like a soft song playing beneath everything. The maids were moving quickly but gently, the air smelled of polished wood and fabric softener— far different from the eggs and bacon I was expecting. That’s what I mostly read on books. Wake up in a huge house and the first thing you’ll smell is the breakfast in the kitchen.

I, Gianna Johnston, am born into a family of prodigies. My dad, Henry Johnston, is a computer science professor from Hafford University. My mom, Naomi Liddell, is a medical professor at Starvard University. And my brother, George Johnston, is an international math olympiad champion. Meanwhile, I'm barely passing my math classes at school. George gets so mad at me that he immediately writes down three full sets of math exam questions and exclaims, "You're so dumb that you're nothing but an embarrassment to Mom and Dad and me! "Don't you even think about leaving the house and embarrassing us again without completing all these math questions!" Mom then forces a few pills straight down my t

Lisa's pov: The small house in Redwood Bay is nothing like the mansion I once thought I'd live in. It's modest, simple, but it's ours. The walls are painted in soft shades of blue and white, a reflection of the tranquility I've carved out here. There's an easiness to this life, a rhythm that feels natural, even though it's been anything but.

“I never grow tired of it.” “I can understand that.” She never looked away from the horizon and I took a moment to admire her profile. She didn’t look anything like her cousin. Though they were both beautiful, in their own way. For some dumb reason, my mind resorted to the old soap series my mother used to watch. Everyone in those soaps was rich, famous and beautiful. Well, except for the maid. My brows furrowed. Me renting this room to them didn’t make me a maid. Just a smart business woman. I might have bought myself another year or two of no worries by renting the rooms.

Even her smile was practiced, delicate and distant. "Thank you," I murmured, trying to return her politeness. As she turned to lead me out, I found myself thinking of stories I had read where the maids were often scheming or bullying and hating on the female leads that their masters brought home. This thought made me a little weary but the maid acted very polite and it gave me no reason to be. It made me equally remember the other romance stories I've read which often painted maids as mistreated or overlooked by wicked female leads. But here, this maid and Mr. Wilson carried themselves like they were part of the mansion's elegance, like they belonged to its rhythm. Or maybe that's what I tho

I would send away all the handmaidens he had given me as well as the servants which attended to my bedroom. The red-headed servant turned out to be a stubborn person. She followed me into my chambers, helped me with the heavy box, and accompanied me back to Djurek's bedroom. “There is not much to take, now,” I said as we headed to the stack of books on the table. I just want to take some of my books and then a few makeup and jewellery.”

"This is a book that I have recap about Mr. Kusuma and Miss Amelia's schedules, It also explains here what they like and what to avoid. It's complete. There's also my telephone number where you can be contacted if you have to. Do you have any questions ma’am?" She put a thick book on my lap. Rich people, looking for maid like this. No wonder they can't get employees for months. Just being trained is scary. "Miss Anita, I want to ask you something, where is Mr. Kusuma's wife? Is she busy too?" I asked her surprised, because all the job desc seemed to be a wife's job, not a maid's job. Moreover, there is also Bik Inah there.

I didn't know what to do. I looked around to try to orient myself and saw the kitchen nearby. There were the basics: refrigerator, stove, and microwave. I went over there and found some old dishes and silverware. I felt disgusted by them. I looked at a door nearby and realized it was a powder room. It was so ugly that it filled me with even more sadness. I left it and went to another door in the living room. There was a garden at the back. Then, I saw a door under the stairs and noticed it was the compartment for an old washing machine. I immediately thought that there was no clothes to wash there. I almost cried realizing that.