The mafia s maid

I flipped through my appointment book looking for my next client who I was meant to visit and check on, it did take me a while to look for it and finally saw it laying on the floor next to my refuse bin.

A loud sigh emitted from my throat, I remembered the party Melchora, my childhood close friend had forced me to go to, I wasn't a party type, not also a social freak but being a psychologist and a counsellor had made me indulge in one social activity and the other.

I brought my palms to my forehead, "goshhh", I hissed. I was having a hangover from yesterday night, my head was hurting as fuck.

I walked towards my door, opened it and slammed it shut, heading to my kitchen to make a black coffee.

Black coffee isn't my favorite, and I sucked in making it, but being friends with Melchora meant having more hangovers like though you opted in for it.

Even when we didn't go to parties, it was a Saturday ritual we performed every night to drink and get drunk, just to avoid depression, I had solely marked Saturdays off from my working days and no money whatsoever could make me to change my mind.

I have everything I want, from an estate to fleets of cars, I had securities, I always wear the latest Fenty products, that's my favorite clothing line, the CEO was just so good at what she does.

Everything life has to offer, I have all of it, "crazy bitch, you fucking forget you don't have love", I remembered Melchora's words as it kept reverberating in my head.

I don't even know why I remembered those stupid, silly words of hers. I knew within me that I really don't need love, I had given love so much over the past few years, that I had forgotten to check up on myself, I forgot what it was to love myself.

Now, just for you to know, being a psychologist, counsellor and finally a best selling international writer is not what I achieved in one day, neither was it love that made me to keep pushing and fighting to be where I am today.

In the next three or four months to come, thereabouts, I ain't even sure of my birthday month. I laughed over it in my head, knowing for sure that Lucy has that in mind, but I am so sure that I would clock twenty-eight before the year runs out.

I was not happy that my parents are not alive, but situations has made me accept it all, and I can't help it, but sometimes I am so happy that they ain't with me, if not they would have made a reminder of my unmarried state like a mantra in my head.

I stood in front of the kitchen door as I rested my head on it, my head really hurts so much, I wonder if I would be able to make it to the electric kettle.

Saturdays and Sundays are the days I have my workers the privilege not to work, within me I know I'm a very good and soft natured lady, because not all house owners would give their workers not even a day off from work.

Looking at my situation right now, I feel so bad for letting them to stay two days off from work, I ain't felling so good at all, I slumped down to the marble tiled floor of my pavement which led to my kitchen.

I had to regain some energy and little strength which would take me to the other end of the kitchen, I stayed on the floor cradling my head in my both palms, after twelve minutes, I felt like the pain had subsidized a little bit, I got up and walked into the kitchen.

I brought out a satchel of black coffee from it's bag and dropped it into my glass cup, I plugged the electric kettle to the socket for it to boil, after which I added the hot water into the cup and allowed it to stir for a few short minutes.

When it had cooled down very well, I brought it to my lips, used my other hands and closed it over my nose, I hated the smell of black coffee, it always made me feel like throwing up and I really did not think I had such time to waste, cleaning myself over and over again.