She walked around the apartment, trying to figure out what she wanted to do. A coffee table in the living room, some lamps, some comfortable chairs to sit in, better dining chairs that matched. None of it had to be expensive, just pretty and practical. She noticed the curtains again and how handsome they were. And she could see trees from her windows, which gave the place a country feel. The floors were as beautiful as she recalled. She wanted to get started, so it would already be more inviting when she moved in. And she reminded herself that she had owned and run a decorating magazine for ten years and would figure out what to do.
She stayed for over an hour and had several ideas and written notes by the time she left. She had lunch at a bistro, and went for a walk in the Tuileries Gardens, and was back at her current apartment for the interview with the butler at four o’clock. Since he was coming from a reliable source, with supposedly excellent references, she felt comfortable meeting him at her apartment. She had no idea what to expect, but she had a better idea now of the help she needed with the apartment. She really wanted some assistance with the move. She wondered if he’d be too big a snob to go to Ikea or the flea market with her. If so, he’d be no use to her.
The intercom buzzer sounded at exactly four o’clock. He said his name, and she buzzed him in. She opened the apartment door to him two minutes later and was startled when she saw him. He didn’t look anything like she’d expected. He looked younger than his age, was tall, blond, very attractive, and impeccably dressed in gray slacks, a gray turtleneck sweater, and a British-looking tweed jacket. He looked like an actor, and nothing like a butler, and even less like Carson in Downton Abbey. He wasn’t wearing white tie and tails.
“I’m sorry not to wear a suit and tie,” he said apologetically. “I wasn’t sure what you preferred, but I thought more informal for a Saturday afternoon seemed appropriate. Of course, I can wear formal wear to work.” Jeans would have been more appropriate to help with the move. She was wearing jeans, a black turtleneck sweater, and running shoes, and she noticed that he looked a lot more put together than she did. And he was wearing very good-looking brown suede shoes. He looked much more British than Argentine. And he spoke with a slightly British accent, as many Europeans did, not a Spanish one. It was an international accent and his English was perfect.
After they sat down, she told him about the apartment she had rented, where it was, and what she thought it needed. She told him that she had rented it for a year.
“The apartment is really beautiful, and it’s in good condition. The furniture is very mix-and-match, though, and looks like it came out of someone’s attic. I need to buy a few things. Like a bed, some tables and chairs. And it needs a kitchen. I was thinking Ikea, nothing too elaborate, just clean and functional, maybe in a fun color. I don’t want to go crazy for a year, but I want it to be livable and pretty.”
“I’m not a decorator,” he said, smiling, “but I can certainly organize installing an Ikea kitchen for you. I put in several for my employers’ children in England. It seems to be a universal convenience these days. They’re inexpensive, functional, and durable, and they look great. They install them now. All you really have to do is go there once, pick what you like, and I or someone can get it installed for you. They can do it in a day unless you want something complicated.”
“That’s exactly what I want, someone to supervise the installation. And phone, Internet, gas, electricity. I don’t speak French. I want to hire someone to clean maybe twice a week. The agency said that wouldn’t be a problem. And beyond that, I don’t know what I’ll need. I’d like to have friends over, when I meet some people, but wouldn’t entertain formally, and I’d have to hire a cook for a dinner party. My cooking is awful.” She smiled at him. “The agency said that you’re a formally trained butler, but I don’t know how much of that I’d need,” she said. Probably very little. And she wasn’t even sure what a butler did.
“I think I’m going to find, when looking for a new position, that a butler is a jack-of-all-trades these days. There aren’t many formal homes left, which is why I’m not staying where I was. My employers’ children no longer have the same lifestyle their parents did, and they’re going to be selling the houses. I’ve been with the family for sixteen years, and worked for another employer for a year before that, on my first job. It’s going to be a big change for me. I was twenty-six when I went to work for my recent employers. But things have changed since then, and the generation that wants formal service is dying out. There is a lot of human resources involved in the position, managing a large staff. But people don’t want a lot of staff these days either,” he explained. He had an easy, pleasant, polite way of speaking to her, expressing things simply in an unpretentious way. “It sounds like you have enough to keep me busy for a while. I’d like to be here for three or four months before I go back to England. My mother is very independent, but I’d like to spend some time with her, if she lets me.” He smiled at Olivia, and she remembered wondering if he was gay, not that it mattered, but it didn’t seem like it. He seemed like a regular guy, good-looking and with good manners. He looked intelligent, and it was actually hard to imagine him as a formal butler in white tie and tails, but she realized that he probably looked great when he played the part, and did it well.