Hot Coffee (The Hollens)

Chapter 2 (News Paper)

Emma's POV

I buried my head on my stale pillows when I got home, hitting them with my hands from my anger as

the tears came.

I've been fired, what am I going to do now?

I somehow managed to gather myself and my emotions. It was still early.

"There's still time to go to the library and then the park," I said to myself as I got off the bed.

I changed into something skimpier, still concealing my entire figure underneath. I was insecure about

my body and ashamed of the scars it possessed.

I started on my heel and headed to the library then the park. I was sitting on the bench reading

Counting Raindrops Through A Stained Glass Window, when an old lady with platinum blonde hair sat

down beside me.

"Hello dear," she greeted, kindly.

For an old woman by herself in the park, she wore very expensive jewelry. I could tell just by looking at

it.

"Hello ma'am," I greeted back with a small smile. I continued with my book as she opened a

newspaper.

Twenty minutes into reading, two men in black tuxedos approached our bench. They resembled

characters in Men In Black-- not a smile on their faces as they took long strides toward us.

I panicked. I was easily frightened.

The elder woman stood up and extended her arms to them. They held onto her, supporting her to help NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

her stand on her own two feet. They left without another word. Suddenly, I noticed she had forgotten

her newspaper. I took it and ran in their direction.

"Excuse me, ma'am!" I called, getting a little closer, but was cutoff by one of the bodyguards.

"Can I help you miss?" he asked firmly, with a tone that made me regret running after them.

"I'm sorry, the... lady forgot ...her newspaper." I was out of breath. Damn, I needed to exercise more.

"Why don't you keep it and educate yourself? Maybe then you'll find out who 'the lady' is, so you can

address her by her name next time."

His response was rude but encouraging. I walked back to the bench and watched as the black SUV

drove away with her inside. I looked at the page she was reading to the left side of the article it stated:

"Personal Assistant wanted at Hollen Tower. Terms and conditions apply."

And, of course, terms and conditions meant college education, knowledge about the job's

responsibilities, punctual, fluent in English, impeccable character, previous work experience, related

employment history, and more. I had applied for so many jobs like this before but gotten turned down

once they looked at me-- like I wasn't human. I wasn't like them.

I wasn't like them, actually. I didn't own a house or a car or have expensive clothes and shoes, or have

the ability to wine and dine at restaurants, but I was a human being too!

I was a plain and simple one. I lived in a cheap apartment, wore beat-up clothes that were stained and

crumpled; I ate scraps left in the kitchen at Carl's Cafe after breakfast, lunch and dinner were served.

After my rent was paid I usually had money for my essential needs, like feminine products and canned

foods that didn't spoil in a hurry-- since I didn't own a refrigerator.

I was at rock bottom, but I'd accepted it and learned how to be satisfied with the little I had and could

afford. I found comfort in reading books. I loved reading about the poor girls who found princes and

billionaires who swept them off their feet, got married and lived happily ever after like Cinderella. I kept

on wishing something like that would happen to me, but they were only books; they were fiction. In this

modern world princes and billionaires didn't go for poor girls like me. They dated models and

designers, and women with the looks, body, and beauty who could fit into their lifestyle. Who would

want someone like me?

I got on my feet and left the park before it got too dark out. I was afraid of walking the streets at night.

I arrived at my apartment three hours later. I sat on a hard, uncomfortable chair as I read through the

newspaper's articles one more time. Something at the back of my mind told me that I should give it one

more shot, but something else just wanted me to give up.

"Look at your life, Emma, you got fired today. You're jobless, the rent would be due at the end of the

month or else out on the street you go. You don't have anyone who could take you in and care about

you. You have to try to get another job," said one side.

"Emma, just give up. You're not going to get a job at Hollen Tower. It's too grand for your taste. They'll

do what they always do, take one look at you and turn their faces. Just give up, you'll be evicted, so

what? You wouldn't be the first to get evicted and live on the streets. Why not join a gang?" said the

other.

I was frustrated. I looked at my life and cried myself to sleep.

I knew when the clock struck seven the next morning I would be out of this shack and on my way to

Hollen Tower. I needed to try just one more time.

This time I will make bigger efforts in my appearance to land the job. I will get the job, just watch.