The Butler(23)

“Why did he leave England, or why isn’t he looking for a job there?” Olivia was suspicious and thought he would be a hundred years old.

    “He wants to go back, and I think it’s the only place where he’d find the right job and his training would be appropriate. But he has a mother here, and he says he wants to spend a few months close to her. She’s quite old. He’s staying with her, so he doesn’t want a live-in position, and he doesn’t mind working weekends. I have a copy of his reference from his employer’s son, the Marquess of Cheshire. They raved about him and seem very fond of him. I can scan it and email it to you if you like.”

“I just can’t imagine hiring a butler. What does he wear? What would he do?”

“Whatever you need him to do, I imagine. He must be quite resourceful, if he ran two large homes. He came to see me in a smart gray suit, white shirt, and tie. I imagine he’ll wear whatever you tell him to. He’s young enough.” She checked his application. “He’s forty-two years old. He certainly could be an assistant, if he’s willing to. I can ask him, and you can meet him if you wish, and see what you think. I can’t think of anyone on my books at the moment who would be capable of what you’re looking for. And since it’s short-term, maybe you could both find a way to make it work,” she said hopefully. Olivia was surprised by his age, but still couldn’t get the vision of the butler in Downton Abbey out of her head.

“I need to make a decision about the apartment tonight,” Olivia said, feeling even more confused. “I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what I decide, and maybe you can think of someone else in the meantime. Do you suppose a maid would be able to do everything I need, a bright young one?”

    “I can’t think of anyone right now, but I’ll look at my files tonight.” Olivia thanked her, hung up, and spent the night tormenting herself. Did she want to stay in Paris for a year, or was that a crazy pipe dream and should she go back to New York to look for a job? If she stayed, should she rent that apartment or was it too grand for her, or too fancy and more than she needed? But the rent wasn’t too high. And if she did rent it, could she find someone to help her set it up? Hiring a butler sounded totally insane to her, whatever he looked like. But what did it matter if he could do the job? And she had no idea what he’d charge. Probably a fortune.

She fell asleep with the lights on, with a pad and pen in her hand, and her thoughts spinning around and around. She felt as though aliens had taken over her mind. But the last thing she wanted to do was go back to her own depressing apartment in New York and start looking for a job, working for someone else, after years of working for herself, and having to explain why her magazine had failed. It still felt too fresh for that. And if she stayed in Paris, what would she do?

She had none of the answers when she woke up the next morning and went for a walk along the Seine after she drank a strong cup of coffee. Her cellphone rang when she was on the way back. It was the real estate agent from Sotheby’s to tell her that one of the people who had seen the apartment the previous afternoon wanted it. The owner was willing to give her priority since she had seen it first, but they wanted to know by noon. She almost cried when she hung up and said she’d call her back in half an hour. She hated to make rush decisions and was tempted to say no. She didn’t have anyone to call for advice. Claire, her former assistant at the magazine, was already in L.A., and it was two-thirty in the morning for her, so she couldn’t call her. And Olivia didn’t want someone else making the decision. It was up to her. She wasn’t usually confused, but this was a big leap for her, totally different from anything she’d ever done before. She was out of her comfort zone, on unfamiliar turf. It was terrifying and exciting too.

    She stopped at one of the bridges on the way back and stared down into the swirling water below her.

“What should I do?” she said out loud, and the answer came as though someone had spoken to her.

“Take the apartment,” the voice in her head said.

“Oh my God…are you sure?” She realized she was having a conversation with herself.

“You don’t have to spend a lot on furniture, and you can always send it to New York when you go back. You’re tired of what you have in New York anyway. The apartment here will open the doors to a whole new life. This is what you wanted. Now go for it!” the voice in her head said.

“Beware of what you wish for,” she said out loud, and walked back to her apartment, feeling like a crazy person. She was talking to herself now.

She ran up the stairs and called the agent at Sotheby’s.

“I’ll take it,” she said in one swift breath, feeling as though she was going over a waterfall in a barrel, or falling out a window, but once she said it, she was less scared, and felt more in control again.

“You’re doing the right thing. You won’t regret it. It’s a terrific apartment.” How did she know it was the right thing? She didn’t even know her. And Olivia already regretted it, with classic buyer’s remorse, but she was excited too. And it was only a rental after all. “It will be yours in two weeks. I’ll come over with the lease for you to sign at six o’clock. Does that work for you?”

    “Yes,” Olivia said, feeling breathless, wondering what the hell she was doing and if she had lost her mind. But part of her felt happy about it, another part was terrified. She told herself that she could refuse to sign the lease and get out of it until six o’clock. But she didn’t want to, and after she hung up, she called the woman at the domestic agency.