I breathe a sigh of relief when the door shut behind the man whose apartment, I will be staying at.
If I wasn't such a coward I wouldn't be imposing on a stranger and inconveniencing him in his own home.
Chuckling at my reaction when Mr. Branson and his grandson left, Mrs. Sanchez approached me with a toothy grin.
"Let me show you to your room" she offered, picking up my bag but I snatched it away much harsher than I intended.
I was instantly ashamed at my reaction when I saw her the surprise on Mrs. Sanchez face but I didn't come here to be waited on because just like Mrs. Sanchez, I am a potential employee of Mr. Branson.
"Sorry," I whispered, lowering my head, thankful the baseball cap I wore hid my flush cheeks. "I'm not a guest here and I don't think it's appropriate for me to allow myself to be waited on." I tried to subtly defend my action a few seconds ago.
The surprise look in Mrs. Sanchez's eye's vanished immediately after my short speech and her eyes soften as she reached out and touched my cheek. "Then we can at least be friends." She suggested. "Come," she invited me to follow her and I picked up all of my bags and followed her out of the sitting room and up the long flight of stairs.
I was ushered into a fully equip bedroom that was larger than my bedroom at home and I thought my bedroom was huge.
Lowering my bags on the floor, I looked around the bedroom that has a manly appeal to it with the dark colors and limited lighting.
The furniture were all wooden but the bed sheet and cushions on the sofa set matched with the same light blue abstract pattern and coloring.
"It's beautiful," smiling I turned to Mrs. Sanchez, who was already opening the doors of a walk in closet.
"You can put your clothes in here," she was saying when I interrupted her.
"Thank you but that won't be necessary." I clasped my hand awkwardly in front of me. "If I get the job, I can go apartment hunting and be out of here before the weekend," I added when I saw her confused frown.
"Won't you need to work and get money for your rent first?" Mrs. Sanchez asks, her soft voice full of concern.
She said we can be friends so I could trust her a bit, I think.
"I have my college fund," I started but she clasped my hands in hers.
"No, no" Mrs. Sanchez eyes widen in panic, "you need to complete your education, don't spend your college fund." She advised and I chuckle at her reaction.
Shaking my head, "I've already completed college," I said in order to stop her soft rant. "I got a scholarship so the money my..." my voice trailed off because I don't want to discuss my parents with anyone, even if they are a friend. "My grandfather gave me is still in my account." I explained, which wasn't a total like.
My mother's parents give me money for college and so did my parents and they allowed me to keep it all even though I got a free ride to Yale.
Frowning at me, "what college did you go to?" Mrs. Sanchez asked curiously.
"Yale," my response was simple and I did mention all of this to Mr. Branson during my impromptu interview in the cafe earlier.
Chuckling, "that's impressive," Mrs. Sanchez, laughs, still eying me curiously. "You are not homeless are you?" She asks cautiously.
I started feeling self-conscious once again, shurgging, I looked down at her hands that's holding mines.
"Well I am new to the city and I don't have anywhere to stay yet, so technically, I am homeless," I smiled shyly, "and just taking a short refuge here." I added softly.
"If I'm being honest, I think I am afraid and I am grateful to be here even if it is just for a few days but eventually I will have to live alone and I will have to mentally prepare myself to live alone for the rest of my life." I admitted sadly and instantly started sobbing against Mrs. Stanley shoulders.
This is the first time since last night that I actually cried out like this and as I cried the pain I've been suppressing erupted like a fire and started burning me once again.
I slumped to the floor unable to stop the sobbing and the tears from flowing.
All I knew, my new friend was hugging me, uttering soothing words as she comforted me.
I have no idea how long I cried, but I was exhausted. "Thank you for being here, with me when I finally broke down." I whispered but I'm positive Mrs. Sanchez heard me.
"I'm glad I am here with you and I am glad that you are safe here." Mrs. Sanchez responds softly. "I don't know what happened but I can see why Mr. Branson brought you here," she whispers, "you're different." Caressing my head, Mrs. Sanchez says softly as if she's speaking to herself.
"Would you like to take a shower before I prepare something for the both of us for dinner?" Mrs. Sanchez who slumped to the floor with me, asked.
Nodding, we both stood up and the baseball cap I was wearing fell to the floor causing my hair to tumble loose and cascade down my shoulders and back.
"You're beautiful," Mrs. Sanchez gasps as my face is actually exposed to her.
"I look horrible," I responded shyly and she wave off my negativity, ushering me towards the shower.
"I'll be in the kitchen when you're done." Mrs. Sanchez says before leaving me to my own thoughts.