1927. Young women are thriving with their newfound independence and having fun.
Except that isn't the case for free spirited Brooke Dashwood. Being an heiress to a wealthy company run by her overbearing and temperamental father, she must live by th...
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KNOCK! KNOCK!
My hands were trembling nervously as my knuckles came in contact with the fine sandalwood and Victorian door.
I could do this. It was gonna be fine.
I'd managed to push through this four times this week. But the real question that kept banging internally against my head, was how long would it last?
Before I knew it, the door finally opened as I saw a middle aged man in a butler uniform staring at me a bit suspiciously. Uh oh. This might not work after all. But I was still gonna try.
"Good day fella! Name's Chris Strong Evans. I'm the new treehouse manager that the Dashwoods requested for. I'm just dropping by to check on where me and my men need to start, in order to give the family the best tranquil oasis that their money can buy!" I spoke with such great confidence.
Whew good. Got that out without a sweat.
But staring me down more brooding, he seemed genuinely confused. "Well you certainly do look rather messy for the job, so I guess." I didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or not. Yes, I was rather unkempt with my rugged appearance and attire compared to anyone who lived there—willing to throw myself off a cliff if I ever had to wear a suit and tie, but I didn't think I was messy. I'd like to call it a little elbow grease. "Although I wonder why Mr. Dashwood never told his staff about this appointment. To be honest, I can't even imagine him ever going to one with a demanding schedule like his. Come to think of it...do we even have a treehouse?" He kept monologuing toward the end of his thoughts.
To be frank, I had no idea if they did or not either. But this was a huge estate on the outskirts of Beverly Hills. I'm sure there were more rooms and places around here than I could even count.
But it was a good enough excuse for me to get to my actual destination that was just a half a mile away through the property, but was pleasantly far away from anything ritzy like this.
Just looking at the fine antiques and finishes surrounding me was making me itch, knowing how expensive it already was to live in a state like glamorous and sunny California. It wasn't my top place to build a life in that's for sure.
But still, when I had finally raised enough money doing sixty hours each at odd jobs like welding, handy work, and farming, I had bought my one way ticket to Los Angeles.
It was where my best friend in the entire world now lived, and I wouldn't dream of going anywhere else without her. And though it was very pricey to even breath, she was well worth it. So much so that I now found myself working three jobs as a newsboy, a well known part time choreographer at one of the swanky nightclubs nearby, and well...classified. But it wasn't something I was entirely proud of like the second one. But it paid swell.
"Um sir? Are you okay?" I asked him, watching his state of confusion.
Snapping back into reality, he glanced back up and nodded, granting permission for me to enter as I did.
