Bullied Cinderella - Hollie Hutchins Page 0,8
of rest.”
She looked up at me, noticing that I had been watching the whole exchange...not out of rudeness or trying to intrude. There was simply nothing else going on in the room and I was sitting just a few feet away from him.
“Mind your own business,” she snapped.
Nevermind that anything pertaining to Don German was my business. It was what they had hired me for.
She kissed him on his cheek again and straightened to begin putting her gloves on while the men began loading up the car pulled out front. Leonardo, Jorge, and Dario filed into the room to tell her goodbye. Leo made the mistake of keeping his eyes on me for too long, as he often did. I knew it was just to make me feel uneasy. But Donña Angela came unhinged any time she noticed one of them staring at me.
Rather than chastising one of her precious sons, she instead turned her rage to me. “I will be calling every afternoon and again in the evening to check on my father. I expect a full report on how he’s doing. While I’m gone, I expect your performance to be just as it would be while I’m here, if not better.”
She prattled on with other orders and strict reminders of what would happen if I slacked off in the slightest. I was so used to her daily lectures that I felt like I could zone out completely and still know the jist of what she said. But I caught on to the fact that she’d often slip in important details in the middle of other useless reminders, just to ensure I was paying attention to her every word. I realized this on my first day when she slipped in a list of Don German’s food allergies in the middle of her ranting. It almost seemed worth it to her for me to slip up and kill the man, if it proved a point that I was unworthy of this job.
When she finally finished putting me down in front of everyone, she asked for me to step out and give them a moment alone. I excused myself to the hall and stood with my back against the wall, staying within earshot so I’d know when I was called back in. I tried not to listen to their private little family exchanges. It only made me miss my mother and sisters so much that I nearly cried.
One afternoon while Donña Angela was gone, I wheeled Don German over to his favorite window seat before going to the kitchen to retrieve his lunch tray. It was too quiet when I walked in. No one teased, no one laughed. Greta just shoved the tray of soup into my hands with a cocky grin. I didn’t bother trying to guess what she was up to now.
I delivered the tray to him as I always did and helped steady his shaking hand as he sipped his soup, one spoonful at a time. He seemed especially hungry and was already lowering to the bowl for another bite before he had even finished gobbling the last one down. Just as the bottom of the bowl started to show through the last of the soup, I noticed something strange happening.
German grew stiff and his hands tensed. It was enough for the spoon to slip right through his fingers and crash to the silver tray with a loud, sharp clank that made me jump. I flew to my feet to sit him up in his chair, assuming he was eating too fast and had swallowed something the wrong way. But when I tried to straighten him, his muscles were tight. I noticed the muscles in his neck were bulging. His skin was hot to the touch and growing red.
“Don German!?” I shouted, putting myself directly in front of his face to try and figure out what was wrong. His tongue was swollen and pressing out against his teeth as his eyes grew wide, glossy, and red.
I continued shouting his name for a few seconds, loud enough that other staff members had started gathering to see what was wrong.
“Someone call for help!” I shrieked. “There’s something very wrong!”
All chaos broke loose as he struggled to breathe. All the while, Greta stood leaning against the doorway looking calm as could be with her arms crossed. She didn’t seem in any hurry to help at all, leaving the rest of us to try and keep Don German alive until the ambulance