I walked up to the big, thick black door. A maid dressed in a black uniform opened the door. My first thought was to wonder how she knew I was coming to the house. Did they make her stand there to stop someone from ringing the doorbell?

“I heard the car, my dear. My name’s Grace,” she replied as if she had read my thoughts.

“Come inside, or are you going to stand out there all day? We don’t bite in here...” She ushered me inside. I held my backpack loosely as I crossed the threshold. The driver, who failed to introduce himself or even speak with me except to give me orders in and out of the car, said he would bring the rest of my things up later.

Manners and wealth don’t seem to mix with working for the wealthy, were the thoughts that were running through my mind until I met Grace. I saw her rosy cheeks and smile, and I knew we would get along, I was right.

“So, are you here for a while? I’ve not had a pretty young thing like you in the house, not for a long time. Only one little boy and a big one,” she whispered in my ear after she shut the door. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

I nodded in response. After all, just who would I tell?

“As I said, we don’t bite...” Grace said.

I started to go pale. I caught a glimpse of my face as she continued her grand tour of the house. My hands started to get sweaty, and I was breathing rapidly, considering we were walking at a slow pace as we went from room to room. The house was so beautiful. The crystal chandeliers hung from a vaulted ceiling in the entryway. The walls were decorated with a warm cream color that looked as if they had just been painted, for there were no smudges or marks on them. I glanced down at my wrinkled t-shirt and skin-tight jeans. There was the beginning of a hole in my right knee, and the bottom was frayed, but these were the most decent clothes I had in my collection, besides my work clothes. Now, here in this mansion, I felt dirty and messy compared to everything.

As I stood here with the maid, I felt self-conscious about everything that was on me and about me. From my hair, which I’d managed to swoop up into a loose ponytail, my new trademark look, to my glasses which were slightly askew and slanted to the left of my face because the hinge was broken.

For the first time in a long time, I just felt cheap.

As if Grace could sense my nerves, she suddenly grinned. “I love your t-shirt. It’s funny. Life is too short. Turn around; what does the back say?”

“So stop wasting it! I love it, too,” I said as I quickly spun around. My nerves settled by her friendliness.

“Let me give you the grand tour,” she said as she wrapped her arm around mine.

We glided past the stairs, and I listened as she explained the different parts of the house. I could not get over how immaculate the walls were, and I noticed there were more paintings than photos of the family until we reached the stairwell. Then, at the top was one of him—the most good-looking man I have ever laid my eyes on. I tilted my head to the side captivated by his green eyes.

“Yes, that is the handsome Mr. Gold. You’ll get to meet him tomorrow. He’s traveling back from China at the moment.”

“China? Wow!”

“Yes, he has business connections everywhere. You name it, he’s been there. Now, this is the second floor.”

“How many floors are there?”

“Five.” She edged closer to whisper. She made me think that maybe the walls had ears because she had done it twice in the few minutes since I had met her.

“The lower ground floor belongs to Mr. Gold.”

Then she continued to walk forward.

“This is your room and where you will be staying for the next few days…” Grace continued to bore me with her rules and regulations about my eating times. I wasn’t allowed to bring food into the room. Where I should put my dirty clothes, and I should only bathe in my en-suite, but I could relieve myself in the other toilets in the house. Even the way she said ‘relieve myself’ sounded sophisticated. If she saw me squeezing out my shit as if my life depended on it, she would know it was far from posh!

A question my mind kept drifting back to—do only three people live in this house?

“Did you hear what I said?” Grace asked as my mind started to wander.

When I merely nodded, she continued.

“You have no luggage.” She ran her hand over the bed, and I looked at her.

“You’re not going to lunch, we just have it in the house, and you do not need to be so formal!”

The floors in the house were wooden. Grace told me they had them restored to their original wood. There are so many rugs, Grace warned me, very expensive rugs that lay throughout the house. She told me to be careful, to wear slippers if I had them, and if I didn’t, then she would give me a pair.

I went to the bathroom, grateful that there were towels in there that I could use. They were fluffy and emerald green. I shook my head to rid myself of confusing thoughts. The shower was in a marble bathroom and was bigger than my bedroom. I ran the shower and then took off my underwear. No, the shower was bigger than my old bedroom.

Showered and dressed, I sat at the huge maple table. Which spoon was the right one, I thought as I counted three different spoons as a bowl of steaming cream soup was placed before me.

Like a flash of lightning, Mr. Gold appeared in the room. “It’s the one on the end,” he whispered as he passed me. I smelled his aroma, and I nearly died, too nervous to look at the man that was in the painting.

I felt like he was undressing me with his eyes, for they bore deep inside of me, peeling away each layer slowly and carefully.

His son, Edward, cleared his throat, breaking the spell. I sat here nervously because every time a dish came my way, I did not know which cutlery to use.

* * *

The one room in the house that did fascinate me was the library. Mainly because the only libraries I had ever visited had been in public buildings and never in someone’s house. There were normally a few books on a shelf overtaken with DVDs. This was something very different. It had a stereo in the corner, which Grace told me was used to play only classical music. She said that all I had to do was press the on button and either Beethoven or Mozart would come pouring out from every corner of the room.

This was the first thing I did as I eagerly picked up books and read the descriptions to find out more. It was like heaven. The school library is full of books but geared to different ages. This one was full of adult books, but some of them felt like they were originals, the pages intact, but they were old and delicate. I shook my head at the idea that I could be holding the original Great Expectations. I remember reading on the net that it was worth tens of thousands. Would it be just sitting in the library for anyone to take?

“Yes, it’s original,” Mr. Gold whispered in my ear and then darted across to the other side of the room. He must be a ghost. I’ve never known anyone that could move as fast as he could. A trail of his scent lingered as he moved. I inhaled it and embraced it as I followed him.

I felt myself being drawn to him like a magnet. I tried not to let my heart miss a beat as I gazed into his bright green eyes. He wore a black suit with a matching shirt and red tie. Something that I’d never noticed before was his age.

Everyone had class in this house. I truly felt like an outsider who didn’t belong.

I drew a bit too close to his body. I realized that I was flirting as I was so close to him that I could almost taste him. I wanted him to pull back and stop the attraction that was happening between us, but instead, he gently put his arm around my waist, drawing me closer and whispered, “Glad you came.” He forced his tongue into my mouth and formally introduced himself.

I wanted to scream. This was my first kiss. The problem was he tasted as nice as I thought he would, his lips delicious. They tasted like vanilla and sweet.

Sure, I had watched movies, dreaming about what it would be like, but until you carry out the actions for real, it’s all just make believe. This felt awesome. Maybe I had been watching too many movies because the next thing I did was run my hand through his soft wavy hair.

As I did, he pulled me back. “Not now, my sweet. Not now. All things come to those who wait...” with those words, he flashed back out of the library and left me in heaven still yearning for more.