Generation 1 Chapter 3: Amani Vista

I laid in bed that night contemplating what I should do. Should I tell Albany what Brock said about her? That’s what good friends do, right? Or should I keep it secret? After all, she was drunk; she could’ve just been making things up out of the blue.  

After a few hours of bickering between me, myself and I, we concluded the best move would be to keep it on the down low. Right now I need to focus on my career; I don’t need the drama of my friends’ lives keeping me off task.

Ever since my promotion, work’s been really hectic lately. I’m tackling jobs that don’t even fit my job description because we’re so understaffed. I’ve been heading in early, coming home late, and finishing up the day’s work on my computer at home. Life’s been a little stressful, and I can’t wait until this little bump in the road passes.

Unfortunately, since I’ve been so busy with work, my house has become a pigsty. My bed’s only been made once this week, the counters haven’t even been scrubbed, and I don’t even know when the last time I polished the toilet was!
So I broke down and did the inevitable: I listened to my subconscious and agreed to hire a maid.

“Maria’s Maid Service, Maria speaking, how may I be of assistance?” a chirpy voice inquired.
“Hi, I’m Amani Vista. I’m looking for a full time maid. I was wondering if you had any staff that would be interested?”  
“Ms. Vista, I’ll need you to define ‘full time maid’ for me, please.”
“Daily.”
 “Let me check and see if we have some space in our schedule for you.”
“Thank you.”

“Does gender matter, Ms. Vista?”

“Not particularly, why?”
“I have a few maids who will be able to do it; I’m just not sure which one will want to accept the job.”
“I don’t mind who it is really.”
“In that case, I’ll send them out tomorrow afternoon between three and four. Make sure you’re home so you can tell them exactly how you want things done. They’ll also provide you with an estimated weekly fee. Thank you for choosing Maria’s Maid Service, have a great day.”
“You too.”

Albany let me come home from work a little earlier the following afternoon, and I was preoccupied doing some accounting when the doorbell rang. 

“Come in!” I hollered, continuing with my work. I made out the faint noise of the door opening then clicking in place as it shut. Echoes filled the room as the person walked up behind me, evidently wearing high heels.
“You forgot to carry a one,” a masculine voice reviewed. “Right there.” 
I followed his pointer finger, only to discover I did indeed make an error. “Oh, thank you.” 

I craned my neck around to see a nicely built man in a maid uniform hovering above me. Promptly, I stood up and extended my hand. “Amani Vista, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“I’m Concord Statera. I’ll be your maid for as long as you need me.” His smile was gorgeous, and his voice sent butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. I ducked away shyly to attain the hand sanitizer while I hesitantly began explaining the things I wanted done around the house.

“Miss Amani, your house is already sparkling,” he commented, while examining the bathroom. “I don’t see much I can do. The place seems as spiffy as can be!”

“That would be the result of O.C.D. Mr. Concord,” I stated, somewhat amused.
“Ah, I see.”   

“You have a gorgeous place, though. It’s almost as gorgeous as you…” he shared, looking away bashfully.

Was he… flirting? With me?
“Really?” I teased. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
It went on like that until the end of his shift. Nothing too serious, just some shameless flirting in between conversing about dust bunnies and germs.
But can you blame me? He’s so cute!

“Eeeeeeeeeeppppp!” Albany squealed when I answered my cell.

“Albany?!” I giggled. What was up with her?
“You’ll never guess who I asked out!”
“Who?”
“Brock! And he totally said yes! He said he felt the same way about me this whole time; he just didn’t know how to ask me!”
“W-wow.”
“I know!”

Crap. If only she knew the half of it! “Um, Albany? There’s something you should know…”

“Well, what is it, Amani? You’re sort of killing my mood here!”

“Can you come over?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“See you.”  

“Well?” Albany insisted when we finally sat down.

“Brock doesn’t like you.”
“What? Of course he does, Silly. He said yes when I asked him out.”
“Well remember when you were drunk the other night?” Albany nodded in confirmation. “You told me that you thought he was cute, so I called him up that night. I tried to convince him to ask you out, but he said he never thought of you like that. I kept saying he should give you a shot, but he got all defensive.”
“You mean? He doesn’t actually like me?” Her eyes grew wide and she looked at me with a confused, pleading look. I simply nodded.