Two weeks went by in a blur of pressed linen uniforms, menus, inventories, children's laughter, and late nights with my webcam and treasure trove. As I helped pack my things for my departure to the mountain estate, I had mixed emotions. On the one hand, I was about to be whisked away to a luxurious mansion where Andrew and I would have much more privacy, and I would get to stretch my wings as the primary housekeeper - both opportunities I was excited for. On the other hand, there was something warm and loving in the Khatri estate that I was sorry to leave behind. And yet, there was something... unsettling beneath that warmth, like a shadow cast by firelight. The grief for the late Elaine Khatri was tangible.
I put those musings on my back burner the next early morning as I boarded the helicopter, bound for the mountains, waving to Mr. Kumiega and Mrs. Skylark over my shoulder. I had an hour and a half flight ahead of me before I was expected to begin my duties, and I was going to need to concentrate as much as I could on planning my strategy for the day.
I had filled my notebook with ideas and questions based on phone conversations with the staff on site by the time the pilot warned me we were approaching. The altitude had been messing with my eardrums for a while, but we continued to climb. I stared out the window like a child as the helicopter veered to the right, giving me a view of the estate. The mountain was draped in clouds, heavy with morning cold and dew, but the mansion could be glimpsed as the wind pulled whisps apart. Mansion wasn't the right word for it - a better descriptor would be a castle. Stone walls, wrought iron windows, and even a tower could be spied before being quickly hidden from view again. The effect was magical.
The helipad had to land a distance away, and I had to continue my journey by car. The estate's altitude meant in early mornings or on cloudy days the pilot would be unable to see if he were to fly to the mansion directly. As I approached by land, I smiled in amazement as details came into view. Much like the Khatri estate, this was an ambitious blend of two distinct styles of architecture. This time the marriage was between a medieval castle, straight out of a fairy tale, and a high-class mountain lodge. Stone and wood wove together, intercepting the curve of towers and balconies with the sharp angles of peaked roofs prepared for snow.
Thankfully there was no snow today and my arrival, besides the view, was uneventful. As the car pulled up to the servant's entrance in the back and I saw my staff waiting for me, I cleared my mind. It was currently six AM. Andrew would be home in eleven hours for dinner, and there was so much to do before then. I stepped out of the car, thanked the driver, and strode to the house with a sense of purpose. Time to make this mountain castle a warm, inviting home!
--
If my days at the Khatri estate were long, that first day at the mountain estate was insufferable. My staff were talented, but new to the family just like I was. There were pieces of the estate that were still under construction, forcing staff to walk longer routes between rooms. No one had even thought to take inventory of the wine cellar in the past three months! I had to phone Mrs. Skylark and Mr. Kumiega several times to get contact information for contractors and local merchants. I suppose that's to be expected when establishing a whole new estate with a whole new staff.
Finally I was preparing for the end of my work day, and I realized I hadn't even seen my own room yet. I asked one of the maids, Francine, to show me the way. The curly-redhead and I had gotten along quite well that day; she was a hard worker, if a bit gossipy, and she paid the most attention to detail of all the staff. As she guided me through the halls chatting eagerly, I caught a glimpse of the driveway out one of the stately windows and noticed a car coming up the drive. Andrew was home.
My room was very similar to the one I had in the Khatri estate, perhaps a bit larger, and the furniture more resembled what I would expect to see if I was coming back from a fun day skiing with billionaires. I gratefully noted that my luggage was neatly arranged by the closet. My uniforms had been unpacked and hung, and my personal clothes were respectfully waiting for me to unpack them in privacy. I was changing out of my uniform, preparing for my comfy jeans and T-shirt, when my phone buzzed. To my surprise, Andrew had texted me. 'Have you eaten?'
I shed my last layer and sat back on the bed, enjoying the caress of the silky comforter on my skin. 'No, I was about to head to the kitchens,' I texted back.
His reply was immediate. 'Come join me for dinner. Pork with fried garlic in red wine. I'd love your company.'
I smiled. 'That sounds delicious. I'll be there.'
'Don't you need to know when?'
'I chose your menu and schedule, silly.'
Laughing to myself, I slid back off the bed to choose something a bit more interesting to wear. No holding back this time, no business suits and basic ponytails. And that makeup needed a touch up...
I settled on a sky blue off-the-shoulder dress with a skin-tight bodice and flowy skirt ending a few inches above my knee. It was one of my favorite, fun little frocks, and I didn't get an excuse to wear it very often. I accessorized with silver on my wrist, neck, and ankle, then slipped on silver heels to match. I was curious how the staff would react to seeing me eating with our employer, and I didn't want my intentions to be too obvious. This early into my new job, it could be disastrous if I lost their respect.
The dining room, like most rooms designed for the family and guests, had an amazing view of the mountainside aided by ceiling-to-floor windows. The long table and chairs appeared to be carved whole from walnut. I had spent an hour here earlier with the kitchen staff arguing about how to arrange servants in the event of a multi-course dinner with guests. As I walked in for dinner, my attention was drawn to one thing only - Andrew was here, in smart-looking business slacks and a white dress shirt, top buttons loose and the sleeves rolled up. He smiled when I entered, bringing light to his eyes.
I couldn't help but smile back at him. "Welcome back, sir," I said as I walked to the seat beside him. "It's so good to see you."
He took my hand in his and pulled me to him before I could sit. "Don't call me 'sir' here," he implored me, raising my hand to his lips. "I am asking a beautiful lady friend to join me for dinner."
I felt my collar bones starting to flush already. Not about to let him be the only charmer, I reached out to trace my hands tenderly up his arms, brushing up his sleeves, over his shoulders, and pulling him into a hug. His arms wrapped around me in turn, and I kissed him on the cheek. He pulled me tighter, sighing deeply, and I felt his shoulders loosen just a little. I understood a little how he was feeling. After two weeks of guiding and encouraging each other to orgasm after orgasm, separated by flickering screens, this physical embrace eased an ache in me - an ache for real, warm touch, his body holding mine with reverence.
We stepped apart, Andrew taking my hand once again. He stepped a little farther and held me at arm's length to admire my outfit. "You look stunning, like a summer sky at a beach with still waters and soft sand."
"Thank you very much! What a poet you are," I said as he guided me to my seat. Ever the gentleman, he pushed my chair in for me. I noticed that dinner was already laid at the table, family-style, rather than waiting to be served. I furrowed my brows. "This isn't how I had it -"
He shushed me with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry, I talked to Chef Armand myself. I told him I didn't want to be interrupted."
He stood to serve us, reaching for tongs and my plate so he could provide some of the loveliest pork cuts I had ever seen. I decided to broach the subject that had entered my mind just minutes ago. "I have been wondering how we intend to keep our discretions... discrete," I said, offering to serve him the beautifully roasted string beans and brussel sprouts, which were closer to my seat. We swapped plates as I continued. "I can't imagine it would do well if it was found you were having dalliances with the housekeeper."
"On the contrary," Andrew replied, "it wouldn't concern me at all. All of our employee contracts state that relationships with other employees or with unwed family members are not forbidden, but will be carefully reviewed. And I pay our staff to be professional and, as you said, discrete."
