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The Butler(49)

Author:Danielle Steel

They chatted about the New York decorating scene for a little while. Half an hour later they left. Audrey was staying at the Ritz, paid for by her client, who had a jewel box of an apartment at the Palais-Royal that she wanted freshened up. She wanted to redo all her upholstery for a bright new look. Audrey had done it years before. The client was ninety and a famous socialite in New York. She still came to Paris twice a year for the couture shows, to order her clothes, and entertain her Parisian friends.

Olivia promised to call Audrey as soon as she saw the chateau. Audrey said she’d email her all the access and alarm codes and warn the caretaker that they were coming. Olivia said she’d contact her as soon as possible and hoped to get out to see it the next day. And she thanked Audrey again for the opportunity. She was very flattered that Audrey even thought her capable of it. Maybe if it went well, decorating would be the right avenue for her in the future. She had considered it before and enjoyed it. Audrey said the chateau in question had an open budget, in other words she could spend, and charge, whatever she wanted. It was very tempting. Everyone knew that Russian clients paid well, even if their payment schedule was sometimes erratic and unpredictable, but they were very generous if the job went well.

Olivia let them out herself, and then went to the kitchen to see Joachim and compliment him on the beautiful job he had done and tell him how impressed they were.

“You made me look like a fairy princess or queen of the castle,” she said. “They were very envious of me. And I might have a new project as a result. A Russian who bought a chateau just outside Paris. She’s recommending me as the decorator. It sounds like a big job, but maybe it’s feasible. I have to look. I want to go tomorrow.” He nodded and saw no problem with that. They had no appointments for the next day. “Let’s go early,” she suggested, “so we have plenty of time to nose around. We can take lots of photographs,” she said, looking enthusiastic.

“I’m happy for you,” he said, and genuinely meant it. He was curious about it now too. She had made decorating her apartment fun for him, but the chateau sounded like it was on a very grand scale, which would be exponentially more work to repair and decorate.

He left on time that night, saw to it that Fatima put everything neatly back in its place, with the silver in felt covers as he showed her. And he took the big silver platter home to his mother. He was pleased with the way things had gone with their first entertaining in Olivia’s new apartment. It was gratifying to help her, she was so appreciative, and maybe now she’d even get a job from it. It made him feel useful, which was what he loved best about his job. He had been a butler again and had gotten high marks for it. He always did. And now Olivia had seen just a little taste of what he could do. He was happy she had. If she got a job out of it, all the better. She deserved it. He hoped he would be as lucky soon. He was beginning to miss his work, although she kept him busy and he liked working for her.

Chapter 9

Olivia and Joachim left the city at nine o’clock Monday morning as soon as he arrived for work. It took them just under an hour to get to Barbizon, even with Monday morning traffic. Joachim drove her in his car, an Audi station wagon. It was an easy drive, and the setting was pastoral enough to give one the feeling that one was in the country, much farther from Paris. It was a tiny village near Fontainebleau and the area had been known to be the home of many artists. There were several galleries still there on the main street in the town. The chateau was a few miles beyond it. Olivia had to remind herself that the new owner had never seen the place and bought it from photographs they had sent him and videos on the Internet. He had purchased it for many millions of dollars and was now planning to decorate it from a distance too. It was a strange way to do things, and Audrey had said he was going to give the person who decorated it carte blanche.

When they arrived at the address, there were huge gates between two imposing stone posts, and a small forest of trees obscured any view of the chateau, so the owner’s privacy was ensured. They punched in the code and the gates swung open. There was a slightly eerie feeling as they followed the driveway. The trees were thick, and one somehow sensed that the property was uninhabited. There were stone outbuildings along the way, and more recently built stables, in contrast to the eighteenth-century chateau. The previous owner had owned racehorses. The property had been foreclosed on a year before and was sold by the bank.

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