1 PROLOGUE

I can't believe that the owner actually leaves expired milk in the freezer, expecting people to buy it. There is no way I am spending my last cash notes on stale milk with huge clumps. I bring all the expired milk out of the freezer, doing the job of the old man, hoping to find one that's still fresh. Why did I end up here, out of all the stores in Vindalle? Now I would have to go somewhere else to get milk. I close the freezer and continue my shopping, checking each item carefully to make sure none of them are out of date.

After passing every isle, I check my basket, hoping I've had enough goodies for a week or two, making sure it's under forty dollars. "Bread, Eggs, Water, spray oil, frozen veggies, bananas, blah, blah, blah" I whisper to myself. I pull my forty dollars out of my blue jean pockets and head to the cashier. "Only these please," I say to the cashier as I drop the basket on the counter. I'm staring at the products in front of me until I hear the bell of the door chime, "Daddy just the chocolate bar pleaaaassssse" A little boy screams as he runs behind me to get to the Twix.

I put my focus back on the cashier as he scans the remaining items; twenty-three dollars shown on the screen. Twenty-seven, thirty-three, thirty-seven, thirty-nine, forty-two, forty-eight, shiiiiiiiiiiiiit. "That's enough," I said to the store owner before he prices the few items left. "I did not bring that much money, could you remove the last two items you scanned please."

"I can return the beans tin but you carelessly dropped the bread and squashed it so you actually have to pay for that," he says.

"Add this please" a man in a suit stands beside me and hands a Twix bar and 50 dollars to the man. He was very broad, and tall, he looked like one of those people who you should just fear cause they could probably destroy your life, and yall I've already been wrecked enough, but yet he just offered to pay for my groceries.

"You don't have too" I face the man, "I was handling the situation."

"Well I was not planning on standing here all day," he said. I let him win the little argument. I pack the items in my bag and hand the child his Twix bar.

"Thank you, sir" I tried to give him my $40, after all, he paid for my groceries, even though I was a stranger.

"What is this?"

"40 dollars, you did not have to pay for me"

"This is nothing, you need it more than me and I advise you to get a job" wow, anyone would be happy to have 40 dollars, maybe he's the person who prints the cash.

"She should probably get a place to live" laughs the store owner.

"I have a home, prick, and maybe you should get some fresh milk" That was the worst comeback ever but it was valuable advice, how many people have bought milk from him? Their stomachs are probably aching by now.

I open the door to leave, and it's raining everywhere, dripping wet, pounds and pounds of water falling from the sky. Like this day, it couldn't get any worse. Ever since this morning, the universe has really shown me that I'm not its favorite person. I give the middle finger to the sky, that's the worst I could do. I turn back inside, hoping the clouds will stop tearing up soon, and I ended up bumping into Mr. tall suited man.

"Need a ride?" He questions. His actions are starting to give me pedophile vibes, I should probably run before this turns into some mafia tale.

"You have helped enough sir"I thank him

"But it's really dripping-" definitely a pedophile

"Sir, do you have some crush on me" I snap at him, I knew I was pretty but thirty-something-year-old men should be focused on their age gap.

He gives a little laugh and says "it's my job to help people like you"

"Dad always says give charity to the poor" the little boy joins in.

"First of all, I am not poor, due to an accident I have been off work for three weeks but by next week I'll be blowing money like a stripper, literally" I scuff, not that they care about my private life, but I felt really insulted.

"Well good luck and I hope your groceries don't get wet while you call for a cab" The problem was not getting my groceries wet, it was my black 4c curly hair, I run my hands through them, and to be honest I don't need any more shrinkage.

"Ok wait, I live in the crossing street, number 45"

I'm escorted to a big limo, one that looks like my dad's, nobody has any idea how much I miss home. I go inside and sit next to the kid. I can't believe that I actually accepted a ride. It's been a while since I've been offered such a good gesture, hopefully, they're not kidnapping me, but that may not be such a bad idea, because they're rich.

"What's your name?"

"I am Lucas Orson, I am only seven years old but I am quite the charm aren't I?" He smiles at me.

"Yes you are, I'm Atlas, Atlas Johnson"

The ride was silent on Mr. Orson's side but I and Lucas laughed all the way to my home. I only lived eleven minutes away, in a quite decent neighborhood. My street is probably not where the Orsons may live but it was suitable, took me some time to get used to it but I guess I'm proud of myself.

As we reach to a stop, I start getting my bags together, "Thank you, Mister Orson, have a good night"

"Your neighborhood is quite nice and your welcome"

"Not as nice as ours"Lucas comments "Dad, our house is huge, huge, huge, why can't she stay with us and be one of the people who help us"

"Son, you mean our maids, we have done enough and she already has a job"

"But I like her dad, pleeeeeeassse, mum has been looking for a sitter for me and Lilly, she is perfect and pretty" he begs and starts to scream really loud.

Mr. Orson gives in and passes me his card, "the offer is on the table"

"Thanks" I open the door to leave.

"Working with us, you'll have money to throw away like a stripper, literally" he mocks me, how mature. I was about to react but decided to stay quiet.

"Dad, what's a stripper?"

I close the door behind me as I was quite done being in company with them.

I lived in an estate with one-story apartments, a room, a bathroom, a kitchen, a storeroom, and a small sitting area. Something about the Orsons just had to make me search for them, almost like I've seen or heard that name before. After dropping my shopping bags on my brown wooden table, I rush to my computer. I searched the name Orson on my computer, and I got thousands of searches for the richest family and the richest business here in Vindalle.

"Orson Co is a versatile company, owned by the head of the Orson family; Marquell Corson, who has a net worth of 93 billion dollars. He took over his father at the age of twenty-five. With their expansion, they have worked with other companies such as Croyota, MNP, and Mallmart and have further expanded to architecture firms and shipping agencies. Not only is Mr. Orson successful but he is also generous, the Orson charity founded three years ago has given homes, jobs, and care to orphans and poor families" I read out loud from tikipedia.

Not to be a gold digger but I really do wish Mr. Orson had a crush on me.