Starting a new job and moving is always tedious and stressful, but I have to say, it goes a hell of a lot smoother when it's organized and paid for by your billionaire employer.
For formality's sake there needed to be an official job interview with the Khatri estate heads of staff. The morning after my rushed encounter with Andrew I received an email that Andrew was CC'd in but the sender was, according to the signature, Lawrence Kumiega, estate manager. The email cordially invited me to a job interview the following day, in a rented conference room of the same hotel. It was highly suggested that if I was serious about the job request that I be ready for relocation the following week. The Khatri estate would handle all arrangements, including any fees I accrued for forfeiting the lease on my apartment.
I was tempted to wear the same tailored suit I had worn to my first "job interview," but it was a bit rumpled after the hasty undressing it had experienced and in desperate need of drycleaning. I settled for a clean but conservative outfit: a grey A-line skirt, a black button-down blouse, my heels, and my hair in a low bun. Experience told me my face was outstanding enough that I didn't have to try too hard with my clothes to make a memorable first impression. I was a bit nervous about bringing a resume with such a notable gap in years since my last socially-acceptable job, but Darcy's agency was a legit tax-paying business, and I found a way to make the job sound less salacious: "Provided personal attendance to clientele." Resume tucked in a portfolio, skirt lint-rolled, hair smoothed, and smile bright, I stepped into the conference room the day of the interview ready for anything.
I was greeted by two starkly different individuals. Lawrence Kumiega stood to shake my hand first and introduce himself. He was a slim man, fair skinned, wearing a black pantsuit, with slicked-back dark hair turning grey at the temples. His face was strangely smooth, as though he had never smiled nor frowned so as to prevent wrinkles. In contrast, the plump grey-haired lady to his left in the navy blue dress had a face covered in laughter lines and crow's feet, and there was a warm sparkle in her hazel eyes. She introduced herself as Henrietta Skylark, housekeeper.
"Thank you for having me here today," I said as we sat down at opposite sides of the table. "I can't tell you how excited I am for the opportunity."
"You come to us well-recommended," Mr. Kumiega stated matter-of-factly.
"Let's start with a review of the job," Mrs. Skylark said brightly. "Housekeeper for the Khatri estate is very different from most modern housekeeping. The modern term for it nowadays is really house manager, but we enjoy our traditional titles. You will have to roll up your sleeves to help once in a while, of course, but we have a large staff of domestic servants to do the bulk of the manual labor of cleaning, laundering, and cooking. It would be too much for one person to do... especially now that the family is split between the two houses."
"Master Khatri spends his working days in the mountain estate," Mr. Kumiega cut in, "to have a private place for hosting clients and investors. The children remain at the home estate."
"Mr. Kumiega is the estate manager," Mrs. Skylark continued, "and he would be above you on the totem pole, as it were. He manages all the estate's needs, from hiring to purchasing to scheduling. He makes it so Master Khatri doesn't need to spend a moment thinking about the daily runnings of the home or staff. He's worked for the family his whole life, and he knows the estate like the back of his hand. However, even he can't organize it all."
I nodded. "With the new estate, of course."
"Exactly. As the housekeeper, you work under him to organize the finer details, especially with the staff directly. If the estate is hosting a party, Mr. Kumiega is in charge of the choices - what kind of cuisine, wine, decor, for example. The housekeeper's job is to help decide how it will all happen - specific menu items, setting up the event, training and preparing staff for their roles." Mrs. Skylark smiled fondly. "It's a demanding job, but it's one I've been thrilled to serve for... oh, gosh, it's almost forty-five years now I've been with the house, isn't it Lawrence?"
"I'm sure I don't know what we'll do without you."
"You'll have to make do." Her voice was bittersweet. "My bones simply can't keep up with the work anymore." She turned to me, her smile returning. "Well, my dear, perhaps you could tell us a bit about yourself."
From that point forward we went through the motions of a typical job interview. I have always been quick on my feet with creative answers, so I hardly found it difficult to navigate the expected questions - what values do you demonstrate that will be strengths in your new role, how do you prioritize when you need to make a choice, et cetera et cetera. I was feeling rather confident as Mr. Kumiega placed his fingertips together and readied his next question. "Miss Edwards, working for the Khatri estate is in many ways a way of life. Most of our staff live on the estate itself, and although you have set hours of work in a day you may find yourself being requested to help at odd hours, which you then flex on another day. You have days off, but may participate in family celebrations, and rarely have holidays off due to the needs of the estate." I nodded, and his fingers tapped against each other once. "Do you anticipate this having any barriers with your extended family?"
This caught me off guard. "Could... could you explain what you mean?"
"Holidays, for example," Mrs. Skylark contributed. "Would it be difficult for your family if you couldn't celebrate Christmas Day with them, at least not on the day proper?"
"Many of our staff who terminate their positions leave due to strain with family members." Mr. Kumiega added.
"Ah. That won't be an issue. I don't have extended family."
Mr. Kumiega's face didn't change, but Mrs. Skylark's brows furrowed in concern. "No one at all, dear?"
I shook my head quietly. I wasn't sure how to explain my situation in a way that sounded professional, and hoped they would accept my blunt answer.
Mrs. Skylark's expression softened. "Well, you needn't worry about that. If you work well and show dedication, the Khatris will take care of you. They always have for me." Mr. Kumiega nodded solemnly. "Let's move on," she continued. "Can you tell us an example of a time an event you were managing went wrong, and you had to improvise?"
Settling back into familiar territory, I relaxed again. "Absolutely! Just give me a moment to pick one, because let's be honest... does any event ever go according to plan?" Mrs. Skylark chuckled with me at that. "Oh, I know the one. It was one of my last large events, with the Brown & Brown law firm. They were having a New Year's party and they combined it with a double announcement: they were adding Brown Jr to the firm as a third partner, and he had just gotten engaged. Wine was flowing, hor d'oeuvres were greatly successful, the music was wonderful, and then it was time to give a toast to the new firm partner. The only problem was no one could find him."
I fought to hold back a smirk as I recalled that night. "After fifteen minutes of the staff doing a full-building search, I finally found him... in his dad's office, pants around his ankles, and one of my waitresses... on the desk."
