The Butler(57)

He was a solitary person and had chosen jobs until then that had reinforced that. It was a spell put on them that neither of them would ever break, and she knew that now. It was both a blessing and a curse, and the protective covering they wore, like a suit of armor, but the blows of life still found a way in from time to time. She couldn’t allow him to hurt her, or herself to care.

As she watched him go through the door of her apartment, it was hard to believe that only five days before they had gone to a movie and had sat with his arm around her and they both had the illusion that they were friends. It was only an illusion, she realized that now. She couldn’t allow herself to be sad or miss him when he was gone. She put his coffee cup in the sink for Fatima to put in the dishwasher, and she went to her work area to call the agency. She didn’t want a butler this time, she needed a real assistant, and she wouldn’t make the same mistake, of allowing herself to believe that they were friends. It was just a job, as Joachim said.



* * *



—

    The woman at the domestic agency was surprised to hear from her.

“I thought it was working out so well, for both of you. I spoke to Mr. von Hartmann when we found Fatima for you, after that nasty little business with the girl before her,” she reminded Olivia of Alphonsine. “He seemed very pleased with the job working for you, even if it was somewhat out of the ordinary for him. And the last time I called him to check on how Fatima was doing, he said he was helping you refurbish a chateau. That was quite beyond the scope of what we originally discussed. And he said he was enjoying it very much. I’m so sorry he’s leaving.”

“So am I. I’m still working on the chateau and need help. I think he missed being a butler and is going back to England to find another job using that skill set. This was probably too much for him,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

“It didn’t sound like it,” the woman said, disappointed, and she was shocked that Joachim hadn’t given her any notice. Olivia didn’t volunteer that his brother had been killed in a drug deal gone awry, and he was saving her from danger by association. The woman at the agency didn’t need to know that. “That’s how these people are, though,” she said with a sigh, “even the good ones. People who do domestic work, particularly at a high level, can be temperamental, and don’t always leave the way they should. I hear this more often than I like, or about someone who’s been in a job for twenty years, doesn’t have the courage to say they want a change, and just up and leaves one day with no notice, or they leave a note for their employers who’ve been good to them for years. It’s the nature of the beast, I suppose. Would you rather go to a business agency to find an assistant? I’ll see who I have on my books, but no one comes to mind. Do you care if it’s a man or a woman?”

    “Not at all. It’s probably easier working with a woman, but a little muscle wouldn’t hurt at the chateau. Joachim was quite good at that, and he never thought he was too important to do menial work.” Nor did Olivia.

“That’s useful. I was worried that he might be a little grand, because of his experience in England.”

“I was afraid of that too, when I hired him, but he wasn’t.” She gave the devil his due in spite of being upset about Joachim leaving her with no help at hand, and no one to replace him. She was determined to get over it, just as he said. But she was sad anyway. It was a loss, whether they admitted it or not. She had grown attached to him, just as he was to her.

“Well, it was always going to be a temporary job, and he stayed past the three months you required in the beginning. Is that still the case now?” She had her apartment for another four months, and she still hadn’t decided whether she was going back to New York, or wanted to stay for another year. She had no reason to go back, and she liked living in Paris. It was a happier life for her than in New York, and her life there still had the smell of loss and defeat to her after losing the magazine, and her mother. And her apartment in New York had looked so depressing after the two days she’d spent there when her mother’s apartment sold.

    “I’m not sure,” she told the woman at the agency. “I think I should hire someone for four to six months, with the possibility that it could become permanent. I’ll have to decide soon if I want to extend my lease. I should have finished the chateau by then if Joachim’s leaving doesn’t put us way behind schedule now.”

“I’ll see who I can find, as quickly as I can,” she said sympathetically, but the options she sent Olivia in the ensuing days were all wrong.

She had a twenty-one-year-old American girl who had dropped out of college. Her mother was French, and she had dual nationality, so she was legal to work in France. She wanted to be an assistant, but had never been one, she was also willing to be a nanny, but admitted that she didn’t like kids much, and she was currently working as a maid at a hotel. She would have been fine for Fatima’s job, but not Joachim’s, not by a long shot. And the woman at the agency kept warning Olivia that Joachim would be nearly impossible to replace. Olivia knew that anyway. He had spoiled her.

She had another girl from Serbia, who was slightly older, and had been a secretary. She had followed her boyfriend to Paris, and spoke perfect English, but not a word of French, so she was useless to Olivia, whose French had become basic. But she needed someone fluent to help her.