A Son as a Gift for the CEO

Episode 1

Diana

I love children, but working among rich, spoiled kids hasn’t been a very good experience. I always wished my life could be easy like in the books, where someone always appears to help amid the turmoil, and that someone is always a millionaire. Oh, how I wished it could be a rich Italian, who, when I show him my culinary skills, would create a little argument because I break the pasta, and then he would wrap his big hands around my waist and teach me how to do it the way he believes is right.

"Daydreaming again like a fool" Mag says, sitting beside me while she munches on her granola bar. She’s right; once again I was being foolish, imagining something that wouldn’t happen even in a million years. "You’re an interesting woman; you live in a fantasy world while being so grounded at the same time."

"Imagining is free" I joke, and she bursts into loud laughter. If there’s one person who laughs loudly without caring about the volume, it’s Magda, or as she likes to be called, Mag. We’ve known each other for six months, ever since I started working here as a janitor in a school for rich kids. I don’t understand how some of them can be so snobbish at such a young age; not all of them are, but some look at us mere mortals as if we’re disposable.

"It’s the only thing our money can afford" she declares, returning to her laughter, and it’s impossible not to agree and laugh with her. "Oh, how are your dad and your brother doing?"

"They’re fine." I reply, swallowing hard, and decide to change the subject as we head to the service room to grab our cleaning cart. The corridors where the students walk must always be spotless, especially the part I work in, which is the preschool section. My friend Mag. works on the east side with the older students, those over six.

My family is complicated; after my mother abandoned us to marry a rich man, my father started drinking, and he hasn’t stopped in two years. Sometimes when I get home from work, I have to head to the bar where I always find him passed out. My father, Mr. Desmond Taylor, was a passionate man who lived to idolize my mother. Despite what she did, I still love her and miss the times when we were happy. My twelve-year-old brother suffers the most from all of this.

"Hello, Princess Diana" I am startled by the sudden arrival of my little friend whom I met in the halls. I place a hand over my heart and slowly turn to face her, looking down to find her grinning mischievously.

"Oh my God, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life" I flatter her sincerely. Kids can tell when we’re lying, and the truth is, the little girl in front of me really is the most beautiful thing in the world. "I can’t believe they let you come as a ladybug."

"If they hadn’t let me, I would have cried to my dad, and he would have sued the school" she says, crossing her arms. She’s adorable; she’s one of the few kids who isn’t snobby, along with two others I know are relatives. I don't see them much, but this little ladybug always looks for me in secret since it’s forbidden for cleaning staff to talk to the students, which is why we only clean the corridors when they are in class.

"The correct phrase would be"would've sued,"Princess" I say, not correcting her out of malice. She agrees and points to the bench in front of us, asking me to sit, and so I do. I’m dodging lawsuits, but I have to say I like her for another reason: the first is that she’s sweet; the second, as I mentioned earlier, is that I love children, and if I had the means, I’d probably have a handful of kids "and that would be rude of you."

"It's alright, I would call my Uncle Michel" she says, starting to show her little fingers counting her uncles "Uncle Lorenzo, Uncle Sean, Uncle Rich, and the main one, Uncle Warren; he would take that annoying principal away. Costumes are really fun, and everyone should wear them."

"You're right, sweetheart, but sometimes rules are there to be followed so that everything doesn’t turn into a complete circus" I explained, and she frowned, considering my response. I would also love to come dressed up to work; my costume would definitely be Cinderella, not with her dressed as a princess, if you catch my drift.

Before she could respond, a pair of twins came over to us, and I stood up immediately. Unfortunately, they are a thorn in my side, and for dear Ladybug as well; not all the children here are like her, which is a shame.

"A cleaning lady and a bug" the boy says, making his sister uncomfortable. I don't know how these kids are raised at home, but they are definitely lacking in many aspects, primarily real education and love.

"Take back what you said" Ladybug says, standing up and confronting the boy, who is about fifteen centimeters taller than her.

"Kids, don’t fight; go back to the classroom, or I will call the counselor" I warned, and the boy laughed mockingly, as if dismissing me. I really wanted to put him in a corner for punishment to reflect on his actions.

"A trash-picker maid trying to boss me around?" the boy said disdainfully, and I widened my eyes. How could this happen? How can a child of probably six years have such a horrible attitude? How can he say something like that?

Before I could act like the adult I am, the worst happens. Very quickly, Ladybug – the only name I know her by, one she wears with pride – goes right up to the evil twin and kicks him between the legs, then punches him, thankfully not landing fully on his face, and thank God her little hands probably didn't hurt him that much.

But the wail that escapes the evil twin makes my heart race. Ladybug stares at me, wide-eyed, not even believing what she just did. It’s as if some kind of teleportation was used; the principal, who has never been fond of me, appears and glares at me furiously.

"What’s going on here?" she bellows while the boy thrashes on the floor, and his sister cries next to him. Ladybug clings to my legs as if I'm capable of protecting her.

"I have the right to a lawyer" Ladybug says, and I burst out laughing, unsure if it’s out of nervousness or because her adult phrase was funny. But the principal's deadly glare tells me two things: first, I’m in big trouble, and second, I’m fired.