Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“Here you go,” I say with a smile. “There’s no need to climb ladders while you’re expecting. If you need something, just ask for me or Orlando to grab it for you.”
She nods.
“Si, señora. Gracias.”
Then, Carmen scurries off in her maid’s outfit, the cleaning fluid in one hand. I let out a sigh because I can’t believe I just saw that! Pregnant ladies need to be pampered and cared for, but Carmen’s still working a full forty hours each week. She says she needs the money because her husband is a substitute teacher, and doesn’t have a steady paycheck. I understand, and I admire her resilience and determination to provide for her growing family. But I also want her to be safe, and it can be tricky sometimes. I wish labor conditions in the United States were different, but running a household has always been challenging I suppose.
Then again, my job has been a good challenge for the most part. There’s ten of us on staff, including me, Orlando the butler, Mrs. Goodyear in the kitchen, as well as a full complement of cleaners, gardeners, and other assorted staff. That’s not including Mr. Masters’s personal trainer, nor the masseuse who comes in twice a week to massage our billionaire boss. Dominic Masters has everything a man could want, and lives a life that most can only dream about.
As I pause in the doorway of the main kitchen, one of the maids approaches me with a troubled expression.
“What is it, Lucy?”
She fishes out something from her apron pocket and holds it out with two fingers. OMG, it’s a lacy g-string that looks half-torn!
“What should I do with this?” she whispers, her cheeks blushing a fetching pink. “I found it under Mr. Masters’s bed and I’m not sure where to put it.”
I think for a moment. It must belong to that red-headed woman who was here three weeks ago. What was her name? Eliza? Elise? Lizzy? Whatever it is, I know what to do immediately. I pluck it out of her fingers, and then stride to the trash can and drop it in before letting the metal cover shut with a resounding clang.
“She won’t be needing it,” I say with a smile. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Oh, I won’t,” Lucy giggles. “It’s just ... well, does Mr. Masters ever sleep with a woman more than once? I swear, that man gets so much action it’s incredible.”
At that comment, my face goes impassive.
“I’m not sure,” I say in a light tone. “And what Mr. Masters does is his personal business. It’s not our place to question the boss.”
Lucy’s features are immediately penitent.
“Oh of course, I didn’t mean...”
“No, it’s okay,” I interrupt. “Thank you, Lucy. If you see anything else of that sort, just throw it away.”
She nods silently, still flaming red, and then scurries off to finish the rest of her tasks. Meanwhile, I’m left alone to ponder Lucy’s question because the answer is a definitive “no.” Dominic Masters doesn’t sleep with any woman more than once. He absolutely meets ladies, and brings them home for a filthy night between his sheets. We’ll hear their grunts and moans, and on occasion, the young woman will appear at the breakfast table the next morning, flushed and well-fucked with her hair askew and her curves used.
But it’s not my business, even if sometimes, I feel a pang of jealousy in my heart. It’s ridiculous, I know, because why would Dominic Masters be interested in me? I’m a plain grey mouse in my plain grey housekeeper’s uniform, especially when compared to the glamorous and beautiful women he brings home. I blend into the surroundings, while they’re a coveted jewel, sparkly and gorgeous.
But it’s fine. I nod politely, and offer said woman a cup of steaming coffee and a plate of cut fruit. The young lady inevitably simpers and nods, helping herself to a juicy strawberry before sliding into Dominic’s lap and winding her arms around his bronzed neck. Then, a few kisses are in order as I slip out of the dining room silently. More than once, I know the couple’s retreated back to the bedroom for more shenanigans, and there was one memorable time when they ruined the breakfast buffet by doing it right there on the table.
But it’s not my business, and I make sure to show no judgment nor emotion. Again, I’m nothing but the lowly housekeeper, and it’s my job to serve unobtrusively. But still, my thoughts sometimes run away with themselves because I’m not dead. I have eyes and ears, and it’s literally my responsibility to be aware of what goes on under this roof.
So I know it’s been a while since Dominic brought a woman home. He’s been sleeping alone, and I’m not sure why. Maybe he’s seeing someone that we’re not aware of? Maybe they meet elsewhere? It’s possible, seeing that Mr. Masters has multiple homes scattered throughout the world. The billionaire keeps apartments in New York and London, although I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s only a fraction of his real estate portfolio. This is a man who likely has a pied à terre in every major city, just because he can.