Combining Riches (Riches to Rags Book 2)

by Mairsile Leabhair

  I hadn’t thought of it like that. Chris’s family only had a maid and a cook, and that was it. And neither of them lived in their house. And then of course, Chris spent almost a year living in that tiny apartment by herself, where there was barely enough room to turn around in. I should have been more sensitive to that.

  “Okay, how about a compromise? A live-in butler, who will oversee the household including one maid and one chef. The maid can either live in, or come and go, it’s your preference, but if you want to hire a homeless person, they would pretty much need to live there. And the chef can just work during the day and at special get-togethers, and that kind of thing. And then if we’re having guests over, we’ll have the butler provide what staff he thinks is best.”

  “You’ve really given this some thought, haven’t you, Melinda?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

  “So you think my idea about hiring the homeless will work?”

  “Yes, it’s a good idea, although I would want the butler to have some formal training so that he can teach the staff on the proper etiquette. We wouldn’t want the maid barging in on us while we’re having loud and salacious sex, now would we?”

  “Yes, I could see how that might be awkward,” Chris laughed.

  “Unless she’s also a lesbian and then we could have a threesome.”

  While I thought that was funny, Chris punched me in the arm.

  Dinner with Melinda’s Parents — Chris Livingston, Melinda Blackstone, and Robert & Elizabeth Blackstone

  When Melinda told me that her parents wanted to take us to dinner, I didn’t have a problem with it, but she did. She tried her best to come up with any excuse not to have to go, and was so desperate, in fact, that she was even willing to feign pregnancy morning sickness. I had to laugh because nothing would please her parents more than to learn that their daughter was pregnant. She finally gave up and said she’d go, and I grew excited, because I had an excuse to play dress up and wear my Christmas gifts.

  I hadn’t had an opportunity to dress up since Melinda and I shared a private function at her parents’ house in San Francisco last fall, and by private, I mean it was just her and me and the house staff. It was a wonderful night.

  Tonight I will be wearing a white cocktail dress, with jewelry that I borrowed from my mother, because I didn’t have anything that went with the dress. The last time I borrowed jewelry it was from Melinda’s mother, but she never knew about it… at least I hope she didn’t. I plan to sweep my hair up in a bun and make sure my lips and nails were perfectly polished. I want to make a good impression on the Blackstones because the last time they saw me, I was living in that tiny apartment, with only jeans and T-shirts to wear.

  Melinda will be styling it in her black, cotton jacket and slacks, with a white dress shirt and black tie underneath. I am actually salivating, just thinking about her in that suit.

  We met Melinda’s parents, Robert and Elizabeth, at an exclusive restaurant in Memphis that seems to only cater to the Fortune-500 elite.

  “So, Melinda, how is the relocation process coming along?” Robert asked as he buttered his dinner roll, his pinky finger shining a diamond-encrusted college ring.

  Melinda swallowed the piece of bread she had just put in her mouth. “We’ve almost gotten everyone moved out. And by the way, I promised each of the tenants a job at your new resort. I trust that won’t be a problem for you?”

  Her father responded aggressively, which explains so much. He slammed his fork on his plate, and literally growled at her, “What the hell, Melinda?”

  “I was just trying to help the tenants out, and besides, it’s not like you won’t find a way to use it to your benefit anyhow.”

  “That’s beside the point,” Robert growled. “You could have at least consulted with me first. Haven’t I tried to teach you about good business transactions?”

  Melinda was seething when she replied, “This wasn’t about business, Father. It was about helping the less fortunate get a break in this world, because some big business mogul kicked them out of their homes.”

  Elizabeth seemed bored, as if she was hearing the same argument again, for the hundredth time.

  “Listen, young lady, just because you lived in a dump for a month doesn’t make you homeless now, because that building is coming down. Those people have been given plenty of handouts from the Blackstone family, thanks to you. When will it stop, Melinda? When you have spent all of my money? Because I assure you that will never happen.”

  I hate confrontations, even when they’re not directed at me, and I was beginning to feel just a bit uncomfortable.

  “It’s not going to cost you a dime to hire them, Father, because you’ll pay them less than minimum wage while you make millions off of their sweat and tears,” Melinda snapped at him.

  “Melinda, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’ve got an idea for you, Father. Why don’t you try living in that dump for a while and talk with the tenants. Hear how grateful they are to have a job? Any job. I know for a fact that you wouldn’t last one hour, because when you came to see us in Chris’s apartment, you were squirming to leave ten minutes after you got there.”

  “Why in the hell would I possibly want to do that for?” Robert shook his head. “Melinda, you’re talking nonsense, and I’ll hear no more about it.”

  Melinda wasn’t ready to let it go yet. “Just say that you’ll honor my promise to the tenants and find them a job when the time comes. Hell, most of them will have moved on anyway, by the time your resort is built, so you won’t have to put out much effort on them.”

  Robert thought about it for a moment, and nodded. “All right, I’ll honor your promise. This time. But don’t let it happen again, young lady, or their paychecks will come out of your inheritance. Do we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly,” Melinda sniped. “Oh, and one more thing, I’m not having children anytime soon, if ever.” I had to suppress the urge to laugh at Melinda because I knew it was a serious matter for her. Melinda’s knee began to bounce up and down rapidly, and I put my hand on her thigh, hoping to calm her nerves. She continued, “So you either need to adopt, or hope for Immaculate Conception in Chris.”

  “Whoa, what?” I sputtered out, but was ignored.

  “Oh, no,” Elizabeth lamented. “Don’t say that, Melinda. You know how much I’m looking forward to grandchildren. I don’t understand why you are acting this way. I do believe that you were more accommodating before you sobered up.”

  “What the hell kind of thing is that to say, Mother? First you complain that I drink too much, and now you’re saying that I should drink more? Talk about not making sense?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it to. I meant that since you’ve settled down, you’re not as accommodating as you once were.”

  Melinda’s faced burned red. “Oh, so now you’re attacking my girlfriend. Well, fuck that. Come on, Chris, we’re leaving.”

  Melinda stood up, but as I stood to leave with her, Robert also stood up, with his palm out to stop her.

  “Melinda, calm down,” he demanded. “Your mother was referring to how much you’ve changed. It happened almost overnight, and we’re just trying to figure out who you are now.”

  “Please, sit back down,” Elizabeth asked, and I wasn’t sure if it was because she was embarrassed by people staring at us or actually concerned for Melinda.

  Melinda opened her mouth to speak, but I interceded. Their arguing could go on all night at this point, and I was already getting a pressure headache.

  “Allow me to tell you who Melinda is now, Robert. She’s Blackie, the vivacious go-getter who doesn’t like to be told no, unless it benefits her in the long run. And now Blackie has learned that she can have fun, she can party, and she can fall in love, without the use of stimulants. She’s Melinda, the daughter you raised to take over your business someday, and I think she’s off to a pr
etty damn good start, because she can see the humanity in the business deal, and she works hard to keep the balance. The gorgeous Melinda is who I fell in love with, because she strives to do good when all around her strives to pull her back to the debauchery she lived for years.” I looked over at Melinda, who had her head down, fidgeting with her napkin. “And she’s my lover. A gentler, kinder, more compassionate woman than you would ever want to meet. Combine all that, and you have a savvy business woman compassionate enough to make the kind of deals that the public will applaud her for. As it is right now, you’re getting all the applause for her work, Robert. A small taste of what you have to look forward to, thanks to Melinda. So, if you both can be patient, and support her in her endeavor to better herself, I think you will be very pleased with her efforts.”

  Everyone was quiet for a moment, and then Robert looked at me with much softer eyes.

  “Thank you, Chris. That was very well done,” Robert said, and then turned to Melinda. “I am sorry, Melinda, for snapping at you like that. I can see that person in you that Chris described, and I am very proud of what you are trying to accomplish.”

  Melinda was stunned. “Damn. I don’t know what to say, Father. Uh, thank you for that.”

  On the drive home, Melinda picked up my hand and brought it to her lips. “Thank you for standing up for me today. I rarely get to hear my father say that he’s proud of me, so that was really nice. But your description of me gave me chill bumps. That’s exactly who I want to be when I grow up.” She smiled and kissed my hand again.

  Suddenly, We Are Employers — Chris Livingston, Norma Shelby, and Melinda Blackstone

  The Livingston household didn’t have a lot of employees, just a maid and a cook, who came and went. And when I was younger, I would help the maid because I didn’t know better. She certainly didn’t seem to mind. But now as I sat in our living room with Melinda and Norma, interviewing for a butler, I realized that I don’t know the first thing about what a butler is actually supposed to do. So I decided it would be best if Melinda lead the interviews. We had three candidates to interview that afternoon, thanks to an agency who set up the appointments with us. Because we were in too much of a hurry to wait, the applicants brought their resumes with them, and I read them while Melinda asked them questions. After each applicant finished, the next one came in and we started the process all over again.

  The last applicant surprised me in that it was a woman. As liberated as I thought I was, I had never heard of a female butler. But her credentials were impeccable, and her experience diverse. Just as with the other two applicants, she wore the butler uniform, consisting of a white wing collar dress shirt, a black morning coat, gray striped trousers, a black tie with a gray vest, and white gloves. Of the three, she was the most qualified, perhaps a little too qualified for the small staff she would oversee for us.

  After all the applicants had been interviewed, we had them wait for us in the vestibule, while the three of us discussed which one we preferred. Surprisingly, Melinda wanted the older gentleman because he was English and reminded her of Charles, her butler in San Francisco. And although Norma was appreciative at being invited to voice her opinion, she declined to do so, which left a stalemate, because I wanted to hire the female butler.

  After much discussion that only frustrated us more, Norma finally spoke up.

  “Girls, why don’t you test them? You seem to do very well with that method.”

  “Norma, you’re a genius,” Melinda said. “Uh, test them how? I’m sure they each know how to pour coffee and unfold our napkins for us.”

  “Well, I’d rather not have someone unfolding my napkin for me,” I said haughtily.

  “And so there is your test,” Norma said. “If they are able to adapt to each of your needs, and understand that you both are equal as their employer, yet different as individuals, then that may help you make a decision. Show them what a normal meal with all three of us and our pets would be like.”

  “You sure do have a thing about giving out tests, Norma,” I joked, remembering that was what she told me to do to see if Melinda was serious about changing her drinking, wanton ways. Thank God for Norma.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you, dear? I played a school teacher in one of my movies.”

  “Let me guess, you were a method actor who lived the part, weren’t you, Norma?”

  Norma smiled. “Emphatically, dear.”

  “All right then,” Melinda said. “Let’s get ready to test them. I’ll let them know and show them where the kitchen and the supplies are kept.”

  “And I’ll go round up the kittens,” I said, and stood up to leave.

  “What should I do, girls?” Norma asked.

  I thought for a moment, and then suggested, “You could play the demanding diva.”

  Norma raised an eyebrow and smiled. I think she welcomed the opportunity to act again.

  Melinda went to the vestibule and explained to the three applicants that they would demonstrate to us their preferred way of butling, and we would make our final decision based on that. She assigned each butler a person to serve, based on our prior discussion, so that I would be served by the woman, Norma by the third applicant no one liked, and Melinda by the English butler. Then she took them into the kitchen and showed them where everything was. While she was doing that, I collected the kittens and put them on the table, much to Norma’s disapproval, where they immediately began to explore everything.

  It wasn’t long before the butlers came in, each carrying silver trays with a coffee urn, china coffee cups, and neatly folded napkins. I knew that the Blackstones had left a few things behind when they put the house up for sale, but never imagined we had that many coffee urns.

  Each applicant acted almost in unison, as they set their trays down on the butler’s cabinet and proceeded to dispense the coffee. All three of them stopped momentarily when they turned around and saw the kittens on the table, but then they continued placing the cups, with the handle turned at a precise angle, on the matching saucer. Next came the sugar bowl with cute little sugar cubes in it, the cream jug, and the cucumber sandwich wedges. Who knew we had cucumbers in the kitchen? Oh, wait, I must have tossed a few in during my wild grocery shopping for the christening. And then came the napkins. Each one flailed the napkin in the air, and laid it in our laps. I picked my napkin up and laid it on the table.

  Of course they passed the initial test of pouring coffee, that was no surprise, but it was time to spice things up. I nodded at Norma, who had a test of her own. Completely out of character for her, Norma played the demanding diva, asking for lemon, then saying that she hated lemon, insisting that they bring her a fresh cup with tea this time, then pushing the tea aside and asking for coffee again. She didn’t just stay with the one butler, she was demanding to all three of them. It took everything I had not to laugh out loud. Again, the butlers were steadfast, and not one of them took offense. Instead they did the job they were asked to do.

  I thought I would play along, and add to the drama, “Melinda, darling,” I said in my best Southern drawl, “I’m seeing someone.”

  Perhaps I should have warned Melinda first, because she choked on her coffee and spewed it across the table. But she caught on quickly and stood up, pounding her fist on the table. “You bitch!” she screamed.

  My heart skipped a beat. If she wasn’t playacting, I would be devastated. She winked at me, and relief rushed through my body like a tidal wave. It took me a second to regroup, and then I continued the charade.

  “You didn’t let me finish, you cow.” I purposely dropped my napkin on the floor to see what the female butler would do. She brought me a new napkin, unfurled it, and placed it on the table beside my plate. I was very pleased with her attention to detail.

  “Then finish it, cunt, or I will finish it for you,” Melinda yelled angrily. All the while the butlers continued with their duties.

  I said the first thing that popped into my head, “I’m seeing a psychiatrist.” Wher
e did that come from? I had thought seriously about getting some professional help with my unresolved issues, but they were just unrealized thoughts. Until now. “No, seriously. I want to see a psychiatrist and ask him why I allow you to call me a cunt, when really I should get up right now and slap your foul mouth.” Now it was my turn to wink at her, and I heard her let out an exhale.

  “Oh, baby,” Melinda said, as she took me up and kissed me long and hard, making a few grunting sounds that she doesn’t usually make, but now I wished she would. The spark of her tongue, as it touched mine, made me forget everything else except the excited tingle in my stomach. She released me from the kiss, and I looked into her eyes. Did she still think I was still playacting? I wasn’t.

  To their credit, not one of the butlers flinched.

  Apparently the only thing that seemed to distract them was the kittens, and though none of them said a word about it, the English butler used his elbow to nudge Blackie, my black kitten, away from the finger sandwiches. I guess he didn’t want to get fur on his white gloves. The female butler disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, while the other two butlers stood to the side, their gloved hands folded together in front of them, waiting to be of service. The female butler came back out of the kitchen carrying another silver tray with two china bowls on it. The two men watched her keenly, as did we all, as she took a can of kitten food, scooped out generous portions into both bowls, and set the bowls down on the opposite end of the table from where we sat. In a flat, commanding tone she called, “Here, kitty-kitty,” and the kittens came running. All three of us laughed our approval. We had found our new butler.