Kathrine: I’m An Orphan But I Won’t Do It
– Episode 15
The next thing I was about to say would definitely shatter their hearts, but I learned that from my late Mom. She taught me that it was better to reside in a thatched house than to cohabit in a mansion with someone you know little about, whose lifestyle could adversely influence you.
After reading the letter my mom had penned to me and hearing everything my late friend Sarah had shared with me, I became cautious around humans, especially the wealthy ones.
As Mrs. Victoria was on the brink of expressing her excitement for my choice to learn from her, building upon what I had mentioned earlier and conveying my interest in becoming a dropshipper, I made an additional request.
I added, “Would you kindly consider not making it obligatory for me to live with my mentor? I genuinely appreciate your kind offer, but residing with my tutor might hinder my concentration. I plead with you to permit me to continue residing in my own home while I attend my daily learning sessions until I finish the training.”
They exchanged dumbfounded looks, amazed that I could turn down such an enticing offer. Their shock was evident as they shared a chuckle and exclaimed in unison, “Wow!” They exchanged astonished glances once more.
“You appear small, yet you converse like an adult. You must be remarkably intelligent, Katherine. Your meticulousness is admirable and understandable.”
“It’s alright; you don’t need to reside with me to receive my assistance. It’s not obligatory at all. I admire your open-mindedness. Consider it settled, alright?” Mrs. Victoria assured me, while Mrs. Abigail maintained a continuous smile, her startled eyes fixed on me.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m truly grateful,” I expressed, my head lowered, feeling a nervous excitement coursing through me. Summoning courage from within, I managed to utter those words. Even then, I avoided meeting their eyes as I spoke; instead, I focused on the lush green grass beneath me, idly playing with my fingernails.
“Katherine, I hope to have a daughter like you someday. You possess wisdom and knowledge beyond your years, like a married woman. I deeply admire you,” Mrs. Abigail remarked. I was amazed and relieved, as I had misjudged her silence, assuming she was disappointed in me.
Mrs. Victoria’s phone rang. Glancing at her screen, she frowned, stood up, and retreated behind the sofa they were seated on to answer the call.
Seizing the opportunity, Mrs. Abigail went to check on her stylists to ensure everything was proceeding smoothly.
We sat across from each other, a luxurious table between us. Mrs. Victoria shielded her face, her back turned to me as she conversed on the phone. Based on her gestures and fleeting glances, it was clear she was worried, and something was amiss.
The call persisted for nearly 30 minutes, and even when Mrs. Abigail returned to the spa room, Mrs. Victoria remained engrossed in the conversation. Only a few more minutes passed before the call concluded, and she returned to her seat, wearing a discontented expression.
They exchanged a brief conversation about the matter, their hushed whispers preventing me from catching their discussion.
Thanks to the distance, I heard nothing, but I discerned that something had gone wrong. I feigned absentmindedness, continuing to toy with my fingernails.
After their chitchat, Mrs. Victoria wore a forced smile and said, “Alright, Katherine, I must leave now. A client requires my attention. You can still come here tomorrow, and I’ll pick you up to accompany me to my office, officially commencing the apprenticeship.”
“Of course, ma’am. I’ll be here tomorrow morning without fail. Thank you,” I affirmed.
“I’ll be back shortly, Katherine,” Mrs. Abigail announced, standing up to escort Mrs. Victoria out.
A few minutes after they left, while I was scrolling through my phone, Mrs. Abigail reentered the spa room. Her quick return surprised me, causing me to lift my head in curiosity. To my amazement, I spotted a tall, fair-skinned man walking gracefully toward me, taking a seat on the sofa right in front of me.
My eyes were fixed on him in bewilderment, and my head followed the rhythm of his footsteps until he sat down on the sofa. My mouth was half-open in shock as I wondered who he was, where he came from, and how he got inside.
The last time I checked, everyone in that salon was female. The stylists were young women, and the patrons were a mix of young and older women.
How in the world did I end up alone in Mrs. Abigail’s spa room with a tasty-looking young man? Was it a setup, or was it a coincidence? Was Mrs. Abigail aware that a young man had joined me in her spa room, or was she unaware? I thought.
As I continued my internal dialogue, attempting to gauge the situation, he interlocked his hands, resting them on his knees, and offered a warm smile. He introduced himself, saying, “Hello Katherine, I’m Alex. How are you?”
“Did he really say my name? How does he know my name? Who informed him? I’ve never crossed paths with him before—just who is he?” I pondered silently.