The wheels of Eliza's skateboard clicked as they rolled over each gap in the sidewalk. A cool wind gently blew down the streets in stark contrast to the heat that bore down upon the entire city; it wicked the sweat from her brow and flowed through her tank top as she coasted down the hillside streets. It was a lazy Tuesday - though, so far as Eliza was concerned, every day was a lazy day, now. She'd been laid off two weeks ago after her job had been outsourced, given a mediocre severance, and left out on the street. Since then, she'd had little else to do than to prowl job listings and send in ignored application after ignored application.
And skateboard, of course. At least she had that - not that it mattered much.
Soon, the hilly suburbs ended and the flatter, tighter parts of downtown began. The clicking of the wheels slowed and faded beneath the patter of feet and the howl of traffic. By now, Eliza was practically walking, pushing herself lazily between pedestrians as they shuffled from one place to the next. Her pale, lime hair stood out in a sea of brown and black, dotted only by the occasional blonde. She liked that about herself, and her partner did, too; everything about her was so loud. Up-front. Maybe that's why her previous job hired her - and why no one else would even bother to send her a rejection.
Eliza wasn't going anywhere - not in particular, at least. She did want to visit her girlfriend across town, but more importantly, she wanted to get out of the house. Aside from her morning visits to the gym, she'd been spending most of her time binge-watching TV on her computer, huddled up in bed; it was starting to get to her. She hated being boxed in, even when she was the one doing the boxing. It made her feel... useless. Being laid off didn't help - and the rent was due next week. Not much longer before her severance would dry up, now. Eliza grimaced at nothing in particular as she kicked her board up into her hands and stood on a crosswalk beside a few others.
A stark, white paper caught her eye as she turned her head down the street. It was pinned to a wooden telephone pole a few feet down the sidewalk, covered in little more than plain, black text - though from here, she couldn't quite make it out. Something about it caught her eye. For being pinned in such a public place, it was almost immaculately clean and precise, as if it had been locked away in an invisible box and safe from the heat and the traffic.
Cars on the street in front of her began to slow down. The light was about to turn green, and yet, Eliza couldn't break her gaze. She had to read it, right? If nothing else, it could be one of those joke adverts people pinned on noticeboards as part of their meme Instagram project - something she wouldn't mind missing a light for, really. The little white stick figure on the stoplight and the buzz of the robotic voice over the speaker instructing people to cross made her decision for her.
Eliza held her skateboard under her arm as she held the pinned paper in her hands. The texture of it alone was defied description; it was luxurious, soft and immaculately smooth in a way she wasn't even aware paper could be. It was a crisp, off-white, with plain black text printed on by what looked to be a typewriter.
"Help Wanted.
"My live-in staff and I require extra assistance this weekend as I will be out of the house on business. Interested in hiring a strong, capable housesitter to stay watch for twenty-four hours.
"At the end of twenty-four hours, assistant will be paid $2,000."
Eliza blinked in confusion and reread the notice. Below the message was an address and a meeting time. Two thousand dollars? That would cover easily four months' rent - and then some. She'd barely ever made that in two paychecks, let alone a single day. It had to be a misprint. The silken texture of the paper under her fingers reassured her, though; whoever would waste this level of luxury on a public notice was not one to hide their wealth, clearly.
Something about it struck her the wrong way. The sounds of the city faded back into her focused mind as she poured over the page, looking for any sign of a catch - for there must be one, surely. And yet it was only on the fifth re-read that Eliza resigned in her efforts. $2,000 could be hers for little more than a few lazy hours spent scrolling down Instagram on her phone. It would, if nothing else, save her and her girlfriend from the stress of living without her income, at least until she found new work.
The crowd around her had thinned out and she hadn't noticed. Was she that transfixed on the paper? It drew her in so fully, even despite the twinge of suspicion that tickled the back of her mind. Still - $2,000 was $2,000, strange ad or not. Eliza knew she'd be completely foolish to pass up an offer like this. Visiting her girlfriend could wait.
Again the wheels of Eliza's skateboard clicked as they rolled over the gaps in the sidewalk. She had passed through downtown, now, on her way to the richer part of town, decadent flier in hand. It'd been a long time since she'd even thought to come through here, let alone have an actual need to. The trees and hedges were foreboding, isolating; presumably the rich people who owned all the houses here kept it that way on purpose to ward off the poorer folks from up the hill.
Soon the sidewalk would end. Eliza stared down the black road that wound into the trees and hedgerows like a snake. The address the flier had said to come to was only a few down, if the mailbox she found herself standing by was any indication; of course, with how large the lawns surrounding each house were, she had a feeling it could take a while yet. She sighed and tossed her skateboard onto the smooth asphalt and kicked herself forward.
Why was it so cold down here? Up in the suburbs it'd been a comfortable warmth, the sun beating down on every inch of Eliza's pale skin. Down here, the thick canopy of lush, well-tended trees blocked most of the light and warmth, filtering it in as glowing speckles cast upon dewy, trimmed grass and bushes. But surely that couldn't be the whole reason, could it? Trees alone couldn't keep it so cold; Eliza wondered if it was something else. Anxiety tickled the edges of her thinking mind. Perhaps she was just nervous?
That's what she hoped, at least.
The house was enormous. Even from the street it almost loomed over her with the peering eye of a disapproving superior, silently judging her, evaluating her, before she even buzzed the doorbell on the front gate. It was old-looking, built almost completely white; marble pillars supported high, vaulted roofs, flanked by fine wooden walls and surrounded by a sea of immaculately-tended gardens. From the level of polish, it seemed almost impossible to believe she wasn't simply walking into an art exhibition. A quaint speaker above the buzzer on the gate stared at her.
"You got this, bitch. Put on your game face."
Eliza shook herself around, dancing in place, before pressing her thumb into the buzzer. The silent judges were watching, from the house to the gate itself, and she was determined to please them. A moment passed in silence. Another. No answer.
Maybe this was a bad idea. The owner presumably wasn't home, or they'd found another person to hire; or perhaps they saw Eliza, with her green hair and tattoos, from a window, and decided that someone of their class was in no position to deal with a ruffian like her. There was still time, after all, to visit her girlfriend at work...
As soon as she turned to leave, the speaker crackled to life.
"Hello, dear." the voice said. It was a woman; her voice was mature and imposing, rich like a glass of red wine Eliza couldn't dream of affording. It stopped her dead in her tracks, arresting her entire body with a sense of satisfaction. Yes! Yes! "May I help you?"
Flustered, face turning pink, Eliza skipped up to the speaker and held down the button.
"H-hello," she stammered, hesitating. "Are you the one who left this flier?"
The voice on the other end paused for a moment. "Of course. It is my address, is it not?"
