The Janitor Girl Sang One Song, and the Billionaire’s Son Stopped Laughing

speaking.

When she saw me, her smile sharpened.

“Well,” she said loudly, “I didn’t know staff could audition.”

Her friends turned.

One covered her mouth.

“What are you singing, Eliza?” Brooke asked. “Something with a mop bucket?”

My face went hot.

I looked at the floor.

Then the door opened.

“Eliza Mayhew.”

I walked in.

Three judges sat at a long table.

Mrs. Cross continue reading …