First day of my Christmas break and I was in a dull-coloured room with an annoying moth flying in circles around the single bulb overhead, holding myself from having a breakdown at the fact that I was only wearing a threadbare robe to hide the chocolate mousse I was supposed to identify as my body and some duck slippers I found underneath the sofa, because the officers wouldn't even allow me to go change.

"So Miss Carter, you hit the rear of my clients car, wrote down your number on a piece of paper and then you said, I quote, 'When you've sorted out what's stuck up your ass, give me a call so we can talk properly' before going on your way."

"Is there actually any proof that I said this?"

"You're not in the position to be asking questions. My client found what you said to be very offensive, Miss. Carter."

"Okay," I said fighting the urge to shrug my shoulders.

Did I care? No.

Next to the attorney sat Buttbag who was still ever so quiet, leaning against his chair casually wearing a pair of black shades. He must have thought he was a rock star or something. He had a lean physique and the grey suit he wore enhanced his masculinity and olive-skinned complexion that had me suspecting he had some of that Latin yum-yum in his blood.

I cannot be doing this right now.

My staring went on a bit more than I intended for it to, because a cocky, I-know-you-want-me smirk decorated his full lips. My gaze shifted swiftly to the young, balding attorney who was sifting through some documents before picking one out and placing it on top of the pile.

"Mr. Henriquez has willingly agreed to settle this outside of court but he is asking for compensation to the damages done," he said, handing me the paper he'd been holding, "if you accept please sign right here, Miss. Carter."

In my haste to get the hell out of there, I foolishly signed my name without actually reading it through.

It was only when I was done signing that the attorney thought it'd be the best time to drop the bomb of all bombshells. "My client wants $120,000 in compensation to cover the damages done to the car."

"What!?" My heart might as well have stopped beating. I thought I was going to topple over in my chair from the shock of it all, "how can you expect me to be able to pay that? I'm only a high school student-- with no job!"

"Well Miss. Carter you can always stand in front of a judge and fight your case but if my client wins then you will be paying for your legal fees plus my client's," reminded the attorney.

Continuing he said, "Mr. Henriquez's Bugatti is currently on the market for exactly $120,000. Unfortunately for the damages caused it couldn't be repaired because they haven't yet made spare parts for that model and unfortunately this means that Mr. Henriquez only choice is to purchase another one."

"That's bullshit. You're telling me the small indent my shitty car made ruined the whole car?"

The attorney only shook his head confirm. I stared angry and dumbfounded as my mind started going into overdrive; maybe if I became a street worker and worked overtime, like I could do days, nights, weekends, Christmas would bring in the double pay and there's always Boxing Day, oh Lord, who would want to pay to sleep with a pig, it's basically bestiality. I needed a career change. There was always the strip club. I could join but then I'd probably just break the pole and men will only come and watch the Fatty show, I'd have my own set and everything, but instead throwing of them throwing me money, they'd probably fling some hot dogs on stage to keep my stamina going.

Shit, my mother was obviously not going to take the news very well. Buttbag now had a sly grin on his face, blatantly happy at my misfortune.

"Installments can be arranged Miss. Carter but if you refuse to pay then my client will have no choice but to take you to court and you can face an even worse-"

"However," Butt-bag spoke up finally taking off his black shades to reveal his rather nice eyes, "I have a job vacancy for a housemaid."

"So?"

"I need a housemaid and you need to pay me back my money."

"And your point is...?"

"Congratulations, you've been employed."