It wasn’t so much of a relationship and more like a sad Taylor Swift ballad about realizing too late that you were just another notch in his belt, but it still meant something to me at the time.
I just can’t stand being led to believe that something is more than it is. If someone doesn’t want forever with me or doesn’t want a relationship, that’s okay. Just don’t make me believe there’s potential when there isn’t.
“Well, I need to be heading to the Hayes’ estate to move into my new room.” I glance at my phone. I didn’t receive a call from Miss Perry about what time I should come by this weekend. Instead, she sent me a curt email that simply stated, Saturday, 1 p.m.
“Send me pictures of this place,” Shelly says as we both hand our credit cards to the waiter. “Oh, and what happened with your apartment since you’re not going to be living there anymore?”
“I’m not sure. When I explained my situation to the landlord, he wasn’t very sympathetic. He said if I want to break my lease early, I have to pay the entire five months in rent up front which I can’t afford to do. I can afford the monthly rent though.” I sign my receipt and stand up to walk outside with Shelly.
“That’s annoying.”
“I know but I don’t blame him. He’d be out all that money if I just bailed on the last five months. With my new salary I’ll be able to afford to pay out the remaining months, but I really don’t want to keep two places. I’ll have to work a few weeks in order to save up enough to pay that big chunk of change. I’ll figure it out.” I turn to face her. “Thanks again for hanging with me this morning and don’t worry, I’ll make sure to send you pictures of my fancy new digs.”
We give each other a hug goodbye and I climb behind the wheel of my car to head out to the suburbs.
“Miss Silver.” Miss Perry opens the front door and ushers me inside. “I must say I was surprised to return from my vacation to see that you had been hired on. This way to your quarters.”
Her snooty attitude is grating, I won’t lie, but I give her my best smile anyway. I want to tell her that I was just as surprised to not get a callback, but I keep it to myself.
“I hope you had a great vacation, Fiona,” I say as I follow her down the large marble entryway.
She stops dead in her tracks and I almost run into the back of her. She spins around slowly on her heel and I half expect her to have morphed into a zombie or ghost or something. Her face is firm as she crosses her bony arms over her chest. She’s wearing another skirt suit, this one a pale pink that matches her nails.
“It’s Miss Perry,” she hisses the S sound at the end of her name as she gives me a positively vile look.
“Oh, so sorry. My apologies, Miss Perry. I didn’t mean to offend,” I say, taken aback as I stumble a bit over my words. She acts like someone with a noble title who I’ve just offended.
Relax, lady. We’re in Illinois, not eighteenth-century England.
She turns back around and continues down the hall, her nude, square-toed heels echoing against the floor.
“Phil, Mr. Graham’s driver, will bring your things in. He’ll also show you where you can park in the garage.”
“Is Mr. Graham home today?” I don’t know why I ask it. I have no reason to interact with him, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit he seemed to have an instant effect on me.
“Mr. Graham is at the country club,” she says as we enter an elevator and ride up to the second floor.
We exit and walk down another long hallway. The walls are adorned with beautiful paintings, most of which I don’t recognize, but if I had to bet, I’d say they cost as much as a car and then some. The floors upstairs are a beautiful deep mahogany.
“This”—Miss Perry motions with her arm like she’s Vanna White—“is your quarters.”
I step around her and peer into the large room and gasp. There’s a fireplace, some built-in bookshelves across from a couch, and a few chairs. The ceilings are vaulted and there’s massive windows that look out over the grounds. This space alone is bigger than my entire studio apartment.
“This is your private sitting room. The fireplace does work and you can use it. Through here is your bedroom, walk-in closet, and en suite.”
I follow her, my mouth still hanging open as I take in my new living quarters. I can see why she called them that instead of just a room. This place looks like one of those insane Parisian hotels that cost a fortune for one night.
“Oh my God, there’s a balcony.” I rush over to the beautiful glass French doors at the far side of the bedroom. “May I?” I ask as I reach for the handle.
Miss Perry offers me an unamused nod and I place a hand on each door, opening them both at the same time and dramatically stepping out onto the balcony. I giggle quietly as I take in the scene before me. I feel like I’m living in a fairy tale. I had no idea that places like this actually existed.
“It’s perfect. I’ll take it,” I say jokingly as I step back through the doors. Miss Perry doesn’t bat an eye at my joke. She simply turns and walks back toward the hallway.
“I’ve left an iPad on the coffee table here. It’s connected to the internet and yours to use while you’re employed here. You’ll see everyone’s schedule on there, including Eleanor’s.” She speaks rapidly as if she’s said this all a hundred times.
“You’ll also see the daily meal schedule and selection from the chef and you can communicate with him directly for any dietary or allergy restrictions you may have.”
I nod along.
“There’s also a folder there with all of the paperwork I need you to fill out immediately. Tax and insurance information, a background check form, a drug test, and any emergency contacts you may have.”
She continues with her speech. “Tomorrow is Sunday which is always your day off and Eleanor is currently at her grandmother’s house until this evening so you are free to get settled, fill out the paperwork, and familiarize yourself with the house and the grounds.”
“Will you be showing me around?” I say, following after her as she starts walking down the hall.
“Absolutely not,” she says with a hint of laughter. “I have a full-time job. There’s an interactive map on the iPad. Use it to show yourself around.”
I round the corner just as Phil is exiting the elevator with some of my bags.
“Oh, thank you, sir. Let me,” I say, reaching to grab them, but he refuses.
“Not at all, miss; it’s my job.”
I follow him as he walks the bags into my room.
“I can grab the others, honestly.” I feel bad. I’ve never once had someone wait on me hand and foot. Hell, I’ve always been too poor to even use a valet or a bellhop at a hotel.
“Not necessary, ma’am.”
“Margot,” I say, reaching my hand out toward him. He smiles and shakes it.
“Phil.” He turns and leaves, assuring me he’ll be right back with the rest of my belongings.
I spend the next hour unpacking what little items I have and filling out the paperwork Miss Perry mentioned before I grab my phone and FaceTime Shelly.