Miyuki wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand as she prepared dinner for her employer. It was a hot summer evening, and the sizzling pan in front of her only added to her discomfort. Her long, black hair, once neatly tucked away, had become a tangled mess after a long day of cleaning and cooking. Her work as a housekeeper was exhausting at times, but the salary was great, and she enjoyed staying in such a big luxury villa. Even the kitchen was top-notch, featuring elegant cabinetry and high-end appliances. As the delicious scent of the sizzling dumplings reached her nose, she couldn't resist the temptation to try one.
"Is dinner ready?" her employer's wife, Mrs. Becker, impatiently yelled from the living room.
"Yes, ma'am!" Miyuki dutifully replied, her words slightly muffled by the mouthful she had taken. With great care, she carried the steaming dumplings to the dinner table where Mr. and Mrs. Becker were eagerly awaiting her. The delicate girl's slender arms trembled under the burden of the heavy plates, causing a few drops of sauce to spill onto her blue apron as well as the expensive carpet. Mirroring the luxurious atmosphere of the rest of the house, the living room was adorned with expensive furniture and a collection of valuable souvenirs that the middle-aged couple had amassed during their numerous travels.
"Don't worry about it," Mr. Becker said joyfully, his eyes alight with anticipation as he watched the delicious food being served onto the table. He always radiated a sense of professionalism with his meticulously tailored suits and impeccably groomed hair. Unfortunately, Mrs. Becker didn't seem to be in as cheerful a disposition as he was.
"Why are there only seven? I thought I bought a pack of eight," she asked in a stern voice, her tone laced with irritation.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist trying one," Miyuki apologized with a shy smile.
"I've told you many times that your salary is high enough to buy your own food," Mrs. Becker scolded her, her words tinged with frustration. Miyuki had grown accustomed to Mrs. Becker's strict nature, but there were moments when even she was taken aback by the intensity of her agitation over trivial matters. With her deep voice, sharp jawline, and always impeccably tied greying hair, she commanded an intimidating presence. She definitely was a woman not to be messed with.
"Please, honey, it's not like you need it more than she does," her husband interjected playfully, his words subtly referencing the contrasting body sizes of his full-figured wife and the slim Asian girl in her early twenties. He flashed a smile at Miyuki, seeking to lighten the mood of the situation. A fleeting chuckle escaped Miyuki's lips, but Mrs. Becker met his joke with an indignant stare. Her perfectly groomed eyebrows furrowed with intensity, while her thin lips pressed tightly together, leaving no doubt that she did not appreciate the joke in the slightest.
"We don't pay you to stand there and laugh," she snapped at Miyuki. "Go and clean up the mess you made on the carpet!"
Miyuki immediately hurried to the kitchen, fetching a stack of tissues, and promptly crouched down to clean the spilled sauce. As she scrubbed away the stain on the red Persian carpet, her gaze inadvertently landed on Mrs. Becker's big yet shapely thighs encased in sleek black office slacks. Miyuki couldn't help but wonder why Mrs. Becker harbored such insecurities about her appearance. Despite her curvaceous figure, she looked remarkably fit for her age.
"What are you looking at?" Mrs. Becker scolded Miyuki, catching her peering under the table. "Hurry up and finish, then do the dishes!"
