I'm Your Maid, Not Your Ladylove [Wattpad]

Zac had it all, the money, the muscles, and the devilishly handsome good looks. Girls, to him, were like the free tomato ketchup sauces from McDonalds. Easy to get, free, and after he used them, he just threw them away.
Myah on the other hand, had nothing, she was broke, no job, no life. Boys, to her, was like seeing something attractive without desiring it.
***
WARNING
This story is not suitable for people below 16 (Unless your eyes lost their virginity). Anyway, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED muahahahaha
Copyright 2015 // hotguyssaywhat

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1. one [wedding frenzy]

HI ALL c: 

I know most of you guys won't read this but please do, it'll hardly take 2 minutes of your time :)

Hey guys! Thank you so much for taking your time to read this story! You have NO IDEA how much this means to me! However, if you

-Don't like reading from different POVs

-Are under the age of 16

-Don't like reading unedited stories

Then don't read this story. This story is entirely made up, characters, events and places are fake. Anything that resembles actual events are coincidental. No part of this story can be used or copied without the author's permission and is punishable by law. Well, that's it, I hope you enjoy reading this, and let's get on with the story! :)

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Chapter One: Wedding Frenzy

Dedicated to Mj_duh13 :)

Myah's POV

"So," I said, sipping my chocolate milkshake from an amazingly tall glass. I had to crane my neck in order reach the straw. "How's working for the Stratton's?" 

"It's OK..." Jen said as she eyed me carefully. Her arms were crossed on the wooden table as she stared into my soul. "Are you OK?" I exclaimed and lifted my eyebrow, straightening my back. No respond. "Jen stop fucking looking at me like that. Are you fucking OK?"

"I'm fine." she replied but her eyes never left mine. Squinting, she added, "I'm ninety nine point nine percent sure you'll eat the last chicken nugget." My eyes darted on her plate and sure enough, the last piece of the chicken nugget was sitting there innocently, waiting to be eaten.  "Oh look! It's Cameron!" I cried and pointed to the fish-and-chip stand. Her eyes widened in shock and her body turned around.

"Where? I don't see him, do you see him?" she said excitedly, lifting her head higher to get a better view. Quickly, I reached to her plate and popped the still piping hot chicken nugget into my mouth. Hell, it's so fucking hard to eat something hot without looking like, well, someone who just ate something hot.

Well that sounded wrong.

Jen turned back around and slumped down on the seat as she realized her ex-boyfriend was no where to be seen, disappointment written all over her face. "At least I have my last chicken nug-" she reached to her plate and tried to grab the missing nugget. "Fuck you, Myah."

"Love you too."

***

"And then he was like 'Yeah you can have more pumpkin, but I'll shove it up your ass. Would you like it diced or whole?' " Jen mocked the chef she was working for and laughed in her usual, witch-sounding laugh.  I chuckled and walked into my apartment, her following after.

"Gotta love Mr. Ramsay." I sighed, my laughter dying down. I headed to the kitchen, I wanted some cereal. Can you eat cereal for tea? Oh well. I poured out a bowl of cereal and realized we were out of milk. "Jen! We're out of cow nipple juice!" I yelled, hoping she could hear me. She had an ear of a deaf man.

"Yeah, I'll run out to the store in a sec! What else do you need?!" I heard her reply, her voice become louder on every word. Her head popped out at the kitchen door and she grinned. I was about to reply when her phone rang.

She patted her front pocket, and then her back, and pulled out her phone. 

"Hello?" she smiled sweetly. Soon her smile turned into a frown as I heard her say, "Hi Bailey." 

Oh. Bailey's her sister, the one who used to bully us when we were younger. I- We hate her.

"No, I don't WANT to go to your stupid wedding. You and lance can suck my ass." She paused for a moment and I could hear Bailey's voice from the phone. No, it wasn't on loudspeaker. "Fine. FINE I'LL GO. Bye."

Suddenly forgetting about the milk, I poured dry cereal into my mouth. "What was that about?" I said through cereal. "You know that asshole who hit on us when my sister came over last year?" she asked and I nodded, trying not to remember his filthy hand on my thigh. "Yep, they're getting married."

Ew, why would Bailey say yes to someone like him?

Oh well, it suits her personality perfectly anyway.

"So why didn't she invite me?" I asked jokingly. "She doesn't like you." Ahh, surprise, surprise. I chuckled in amusement as I walked towards the corridor, where she was standing. Together, we walked towards the living room. "Do you really want to go?" I popped a question, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"Not really, but I feel bad if I don't go, she's my sister." she sighed. "Besides," she added, "She's getting married in Malaysia." she laid herself down onto the sofa, trying to reach for the remote. "Malaysia?" I lifted an eyebrow, and sat criss-cross on the floor. "That sounds exotic."

Well she can get married in a dumpster and I couldn't care less.

"Well yeah, I think it is. AND it's a 2-day flight. My ticket's booked and stuff. I'm leaving tomorrow and I have to pack- like right now" she shrugged, turning on the TV. "You really think I should go?"

No.

"Yeah, I mean come on, she's your sister." I said. "Change the channel, I don't want to watch Keeping up with the fucking Kardashians." I frowned instantly as Kim's face appeared on screen.

"Well, too bad, apparently your roommate loves unreal reality TV." she said smugly, stuffing the remote in her bra so I couldn't get to it. Sneaky asshole. "And apparently your roommate wants some milk, now go get her some." I pointed towards the door and she groaned, picking up a cushion and stuffing it in her face, muffling her voice. "Idon'twannagooooo." was all I could hear until the doorbell rang.

I sprinted towards the door, and opening it. "Hello, can I help you?" I said sweetly when I saw a beautiful woman with beautiful wavy golden hair. She was frightfully tall and had killer figure, even though I predicted she was in her fifties. Her expensive designer clothes screamed 'I'm filthy rich' and shiny diamonds encrusted her evening gown.

"Hi, is Jen here?" she smiled sweetly, and I nodded. "One second." I asked and scurried to where Jen was. "Mrs. Filthy Rich wants to see you" I whispered, she got up and I took her place on the sofa. She skipped towards the door.

"Hi! Mrs. Stratton! May I help you?" she asked. "Yes, um-" she said impatiently. "Is it alright if I ask you to come to work at 6 instead of 7? I've got a meeting at 6.30 so I need someone to take care of Brody. He has to go to Kindergarten at 8 and a play time with his friends at 10 but I won't be back till then. His nanny can't come tomorrow, so I was thinking you could do it." I heard from a distance.

She was very fastidious when Jen was taking her time to think about it. "I can't," I heard her say. "Family problems, I was going to tell you tomorrow, but since you're here, I might as well. I'm not able to work for 3 months, but if it's alright with you, I know someone who can."

"Who is it? I'll triple the salary." she asked eagerly, obviously she needed to leave fast. "My roommate."

WHAT.

"That's Myah," she pointed at the sofa and I plastered on a fake smile. "She's great with kids.".  "Ok, it's settled then. Myah...?" she her voice trailed off. "Myah Wolfert. I'll pass her the time table and her uniform. Don't worry about anything." Mrs. Stratton looked satisfied when she smiled. "I need to go. I'm late for a function." she said. She climbed into her limo and took off.

"Why'd you go that for?" I groaned, I didn't want to work, tomorrow's a SUNDAY. No one works on Sunday... right? "You should be thanking me. Don't you want to go to University? How are you going to live off four hundred dollars from your savings account?" . "I might have you know that four hundred dollars is a lot of money." I argued, but she was right, four hundred dollars isn't going to cover even only food for a year. "Fine." I sighed in defeat. 

Excited, she motioned me to follow her to her room. She passed me her uniform, a stereotypical black and white maid outfit. She and I were almost the same size, so sharing clothes wasn't a problem. However, the uniform, on me, was rather a little short. 

She passed me the time table and begged me to get there early or Mrs. Stratton's son would get upset. Brody? Isn't he like 3? Whatever. As long as I get my precious money, I'm fine with anything.

***

OK, I take it back I'm not fine with this. It's 6 o'clock and I'm absolutely dreadfully sleepy. You can put me in a casket, bury me, and I'll sleep for another century. I feel like a member from the walking dead. And most importantly, I FEEL LIKE SLEEPING.

Keeping to keep my eyes open, I trudged up into the bathroom to get ready. By the time I was done with my morning shower, I felt a bit better. I decided to put on a natural makeup look, just some mascara, eyeliner and my favourite cupcake flavoured lip gloss.

If I'm hungry, I'll just lick my lips.

I'm not kidding.

After I put on my uniform, I felt weird. I had never pictured myself as a maid.   I rolled my eyes, and shook my thoughts away. Jen had already left for Malaysia and I was stuck with her car. I told her I could take the bus but she insisted on me taking her car.

Soon, I reached Mrs. Stratton's house- fuck that- MANSION and parked the car where the security told me to. A tall woman was waiting at the door. She was wearing a conservative work uniform and looked extremely strict. If looks could kill, hell, I'd be at my funeral. A pair of square red spectacles rested on the tip of her nose and I couldn't count how many wrinkles she had on her face.

"Hello, welcome Myah," she pronounced my name 'Mee-ah' as opposed to 'My-ah' I'm Madame Falkov, house keeper of Mrs. Stratton's villa." she said in a thick russian accent. "I assume you have met Dole, our head security," she introduced me to Dole, a lean, bald and buff guy, wearing black shades so I couldn't see his eyes. He was the type you wouldn't want to mess with in a club.I gulped and nodded as she continued, "Please, come in," she motioned her hands towards the entryway, where a doorman stood still.

"This is Greg, our doorman," she patted him on the back. Greg had an awesome mustache that resembled Mario. "Excuse me, I do not look like the Mario." he angrily stated, in an italian accent. Shit, did I say that aloud? 

Wow, Mrs. Stratton sure knows people from around the world. 

"Sorry," I apologized and followed Mrs. Falkov into the villa. As I stepped into the house, I was afraid the sole of my shoe would leave foot steps onto the expensive shiny marble floor that was been freshly mopped. The mighty chandelier that towered over me made me shudder. Something that BIG and HEAVY was sure to fall at any moment. The scent of italian leather filled my nostrils and sophisticated art works was hung up of the walls. The stairs were huge and grand, fit for a princess and all I could do was gawk at something I could never have.

"Miss Myah, close your mouth please, that is absolutely unladylike." Mrs. Falkov, said sternly. I immediately clamped my mouth shut and awkwardly shuffled my feet following Mrs. Falkov as she gave me a tour around the villa. If the villa got any bigger, I'd need a GPS to find my way around this house.

After what seemed like forever, Mrs. Falkov returned to where we started. Just in time, Mrs. Stratton strut down the stairs. "Oh, hello, Falkov, Myah." she smiled politely, and I did the same in return. "Myah, make yourself at home. I've got to go. Falkov will introduce you to my sons."

Did she say sons?

Before I could think of anything else, Mrs. Falkov dragged me to Brody's bedroom, where a little boy was sleeping on his race car bed. He must've really like cars because posters of ferraris and lamborhinis and R8s were hung up on the wall. Figurines of, what I would assume, famous car racers, books of cars and racers were neatly displayed on a wooden shelves. I walked to a gigantic balcony that was built in at the corner of the room. The view was amazing, I could spend my whole life up here.

"Jenny?" I heard a little boy, probably Brody, say. I spun around to see Brody staring at me with his green eyes, he was oh-so delicate, such a beautiful three year old boy. If I were his age, I would definitely have a crush on him. For a three year old, he had quite the looks. He had high cheekbones, in the shade of pink. He was wearing a race car onesie, that looked absolutely adorable on him. I instantly fell in love with him.

I carefully walked over to the side of his bed and knelt down. "My name is Myah. I'm taking over Jen for a little while. Is that OK with you?" I asked and he nodded. "Myah. I like that name." he grinned, showing off his missing two front teeth and I swear my heart skipped a beat. That was too cute.

My eyes shifted to the door, and I realized Mrs. Falkov had left, leaving me alone. I was 10 times more nervous. "Myah, I'm hungry." I heard Brody say and I darted my gaze back to him. "I'll make pancakes for you. Everyone loves my pancakes." I boasted and Brody shot me a smile in return.

Brody's hand wrapped around my finger and I led him into the kitchen, where I saw a figure standing there. He was cooking bacon! I instantly could identify the smell because I love bacon. I simply cannot understand how someone could become vegetarian. 

He was shirtless, and his toned muscles flex as he flipped the bacon. 

I'd have that of breakfast with a side of an omelet.

I bit my lip and walked closer, hoping he didn't notice I was staring. Too bad Brody randomly started stomping on some ants creating a scene. He spun around and noticed me, His eyes raked me up and down and I felt my cheeks instantly flush. Holy fuck, he was devilishly handsome, I wouldn't be surprised if someone gave him a career in modelling. He definitely had the looks for it.  His toned 8-pack made my heart pound and I felt dizzy,  his green piercing eyes did not help anything at all. Holy shit, he was hot.

I think I forgot the ingredients to make the pancakes.

"Uh-" he said and I started quivering. I don't handle hot guys well. "Where's Jen?"

"She's um- my friend. Well of course she's my friend, she's- not that you would know, she's in Malaysia."

Shit, I fucking hate my mouth right now. "I'm Myah." I introduced myself.

"That's cute. I'm Zac." he said. "Pass me that plate?" he pointed to a plate and I handed it to him. He placed the bacon onto it and all I could do was stare. My brain was telling me to find the ingredients for the pancakes but my body told me to be a statue. And who did I listen to? 

"So," he grinned, putting a clean shirt on. Damn, don't do that. "I see you've met Brody," he chuckled as she bent down so he was the same height as him. He ruffled his hair and Brody frowned. 

"Yeah, he's really cute."

"So are you."

My heat skipped a beat. "Um, excuse me?" 

Is he a man slut? Or what you may call it, a fuckboy? Before he could answer, a blonde chick stood at the entrance of the kitchen. "Hi babe. Last night was amazing."

Oh yep. He definitely was.

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HEY GUYS xD

Thanks so much for reading! This chapter took me 2 days to write so I hope you enjoyed it. Merry Christmas (even if it's over)!!! Okay yeah that's all I have to say. LOL. Does anyone even say LOL nowadays?

 

Anyways, be sure to favourite, comment, and share it with your friends! Can I get this story to just 5 favourites? I love you, see you in the next chappie :P I need to pee right now, Byeee.

 
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