by Rhea Wilde
“He’d better be paying for this cab ride…”
We moved through the neighborhood completely. The cab began working its way up a winding road on a hill. I peeked out of the window and behind iron gates, I saw a large mansion sitting all by itself. The cab stopped just in front of the gates and I stepped out.
“This is as far as I can go,” the driver told me.
I paid him and the cab sped off back down the hill. I looked around the gate, wondering if there was some way to open it or someone to talk to when it began opening before me. I hesitantly walked through the gates and worked my way up the rest of the way to the front door. When I arrived, the door was already open and someone was there to greet me. I moved closer and finally got a better look at him.
He was an old man. That much was obvious. His hair was white and slicked back over his head. His light skin was worn with age, wrinkles and blemishes everywhere upon his face. His brown eyes were hidden behind the thick lenses of his glasses. He was dressed in a tuxedo that fitted his thin frame perfectly. Despite his seemingly old age, he stood up straight with his gloved hands clasped together neatly in front of him.
“Hello, I—”
“Master Stephen was expecting you,” the old man said. “My name is Crosby. You are Miss Aria, I presume.”
“Yeah. You don’t have to call me Miss.”
“Oh, but I do. Right this way, Miss Aria.”
“All right…”
The outside of the mansion looked more magnanimous now that I was closer to it. And when I stepped inside the luxurious inside of the main hall was more decadent than anything I’d ever witnessed before. It wasn’t just the space or that it was clean, two things my apartment back in the city lacked. But everything seemed to have a luster or shine to it that I couldn’t explain. From the marble floor to the paintings on the walls to the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling, everything looked like it was worth more money than any sane person would consider spending upon it.
I only had a moment to gather myself. Crosby quickly paced down one of the halls and I followed just behind him. He and I weren’t the only ones in the building. There were servants in nearly every corridor, washing and waxing and polishing everything even though it already looked clean. I wondered if I would be joining them after accepting Stephen’s proposal.
“How was your trip here, Miss Aria?” Crosby asked.
“What?”
“Your ride. Was it comfortable?”
“To tell you the truth, it was a little expensive. I didn’t expect Stephen to live so far from the city.”
“Master Stephen prefers his privacy. You’ll of course be compensated for every ride you take out here. A limo can be sent out to you if you prefer to travel that way.”
“Oh, I prefer. That sounds like a lot of fun. Now… Where exactly are you taking me?”
“I’ve been told of your arrival. I’m taking you to Master Stephen.”
“Oh. Right. Do you know where he is? Because it looks like it’s really easy to get lost in a place like this.”
“Master Stephen is in his study chambers. Right this way.”
Even though Crosby assured me he knew where he was going, I was already lost. I knew the mansion was big but there seemed to be more corridors than I could count. I didn’t know how much time had gone by when we eventually came upon the study chambers.
Saying the room was large would be doing it a disservice. There were shelves that reached all the way up to the ceiling that was high above us. Old and worn books squeezed together to fill the shelves. There were ladders attached to the shelves because it was the only way to get to the top. Light shined in from the windows on the side and gave me a better view of just how much space was in the room.
Stephen stood at the top of one of the ladders. He looked down at us then slowly descended it. He was dressed in a white shirt, a black suit vest and a matching pair of pants. He looked like he had just finished a business meeting and decided to spend his time sorting through whatever books he was looking for.
When he got to the bottom of the ladder, Crosby bowed his head to him.
“Master Stephen, presenting Miss Aria.”
“Thank you, Crosby. Tell Camille to prepare something for me while I speak to Aria.”
“Right away, sir. Miss Aria.”
Crosby bowed his head to me and excused himself from the room. I watched as he closed the double doors and left me alone with Stephen. The thud of the doors echoed through the room and there was a silence except for the sound of Stephen’s footsteps as he paced in front of me.
“You’re late,” he said.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure what time—”
“It’s almost noon. We made the agreement last night. You could have started several hours ago.”
“I know. It’s just—”
“I don’t want to hear excuses. Just tell me it won’t happen again.”
“I—”
“No excuses.”
I held back a sigh and softly nodded my head.
“It won’t happen again,” I said.
What have I gotten myself into? Am I really going to work for this guy?
I stood there, wondering what exactly Stephen was going to complain about. He thumbed through the book in his hand and scanned the pages with his index finger.
“Do you read, Aria?”
“What?”
“Do you read?” he repeated.
“I used to write but to be honest with you, I never actually read any of the articles. It was a really mediocre publication—”
“Books. Do you read any books?”
“Um… I don’t mind a Nora Roberts book every now and then.”
“Who?”
“Nora Roberts. She writes, um… You know who Nora Roberts is, right?”
Stephen stared at me blankly. I held back another sigh and tried not to laugh.
“Of course not,” I said. “I don’t imagine a man like you would waste your time reading something like that.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“But you know who she is though, right? I mean, she’s like one of the most-famous authors of all-time. Everybody…”
I stopped myself before I started going on a rant that Stephen wasn’t interested in listening to. He closed the book in his hand and I watched as the dust rose from it.
“I want you to read,” he said. “That’s one of the requirements I have for you.”
“Okay…”
“You’re free to use this library whenever you want. Day or night. The doors are never locked. Pick up anything that interests you.”
“Do you want me to write a book report, too?” I said with a smirk. “Is there going to be any homework?”
“No.”
“And why exactly do you want me to do this?”
“Because I said so.”
“…All right.”
I couldn’t hold back my sigh. I turned to one of the shelves and saw just how many books were stuffed into it.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to read everything here,” I said to him.
“Just… do what I asked.”
I nodded to him. He tossed the book onto a nearby desk then made his way toward the exit of the study room.
“This way,” he said.
“Where are we going now?” I asked.
“It’s your first day. And you’re late. You have a lot to catch up on. It’s time to get started.”
Chapter 9
Expect the unexpected. It’s a cliche everybody has heard more than once. But never did it seem more appropriate than right now. I knew I was getting into something when I agreed to work for Stephen. And with every step I took in his mansion, I was only beginning to realize what that something was.
I followed Stephen from his study room down another long corridor. I couldn’t take the time to appreciate my surroundings. It wasn’t just an appreciation though. I joked to him that I would get lost in here if he ever left me alo
ne. Stephen responded in the only way he could: he put it on my list of things to study. It was like I was back in school all over again.
After walking through countless sets of double doors, I came upon what was undoubtedly the kitchen. I wasn’t much of a cook but I knew what I was looking at. The marble counter-tops were home to several burners. To the side, there were enough ovens to prepare a feast. The spacious room had enough pots and pans hanging from the ceiling that I wondered if anybody actually used all of them. Out of all the rooms I’d been in so far, I never thought the kitchen would be the most glamorous.
“Come here. I want you to meet someone.”
Stephen motioned for me to follow him and I did as I was told like it was instinct. We made our way toward the woman who was standing over a small pot boiling over the stove.
She was a petite woman. Even though her figure was hidden behind a white chef’s coat, it was clear she was short in stature. Her black hair was short and dark, cropped just behind her ears. As she hunched over the pot, I saw a bead of sweat dripping down the side of her pale-skinned face. Only the side of her face was visible but I could see the focus in just the one eye that I could see.
“Camille.”
Stephen said her name and she turned and looked at me. The focus in her brown eyes didn’t disappear. Seeing her up close, I was surprised for some reason to realize how pretty she was. She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me. As she stared at me, the focus in her eyes turned into something that seemed like disinterest.
“Camille, this is Aria,” Stephen introduced me.
“Yes, the new recruit,” Camille said as she looked at me, her voice surprisingly meek. “She’s late.”
“She’s aware of that. Aria, this is Camille Bianco. My head chef. She has a French culinary background but isn’t limited to that. She’ll be teaching you everything you need to know.”
“Right,” I sighed. “If she’s your head chef, what do you need me for?”
Camille turned to Stephen and raised an eyebrow at him. Stephen put his hand up.
“Because I need more than one chef,” he said. “And I’d like you to be one of them.”
“But it takes years of training. You can’t expect me to learn that fast—”
“I don’t expect you to be a master chef,” Stephen interrupted me. “And I don’t expect you to get it so quickly. All I ask is that you put in the effort you need to for now. Don’t decide what you are and aren’t capable of before you’ve even done it. I’ll be right over here. Camille.”
“Your lunch is ready, Master Stephen,” Camille said as she bowed her head.
I watched Stephen make his way to the side of the kitchen where a small table sat. He took a seat while Camille placed a small bowl of food in front of him. It was unnerving to watch Camille act as rigid as I saw Stephen. In fact, everybody I’d seen so far seemed to perform to some standard.
I hope he’s not expecting me to do any of that…
While Stephen began eating his lunch, Camille returned to me and placed her hands upon her hips.
“All right,” she sighed. “Tell me what kind of experience you have.”
“Experience? Experience with what?”
“Well, did you go to school?”
“I went to art school—”
“For cooking. A culinary institute perhaps?”
“Um, no,” I said as I shook my head, trying not to laugh.
“Have you taken any private cooking lessons?”
“No…”
“Have you studied cooking on your own.”
“No…”
“Do you have any cooking background at all?”
“None that I can think of.”
“Did you help your mother cook when you were a child? Did you grow up in a cooking household?”
“Everything my mom cooked came in a can or a cardboard plate that you could heat in a microwave.”
Camille stared at me blankly. Then she slowly turned and looked at Stephen from across the kitchen. Stephen looked back at her and motioned with his hand for her to keep going. Camille turned back to me and the confusion on her face was obvious. I smiled at her to try and hide my embarrassment.
“Do you know what this is?” she said as she pointed next to her.
I looked down past her finger and slowly gave her my answer.
“…A stove?”
“Are you sure?”
“…Yes?”
“Good,” she said as she exhaled a sharp breath. “And this?”
She pointed behind me.
“An oven,” I said.
“Okay. It seems you know something. Not much… But it’s something. Follow me, please.”
I made my way through the kitchen while Camille pointed at different objects. It was patronizing for her to point to nearly every single thing. After a few minutes, I finally stopped her.
“I know what all this is,” I said. “I know there are pots and pans and spatulas and everything in-between in here. I know what they are. I just don’t know how to use them. Can we get on with this?”
“You said you don’t have a cooking background.”
“Right. I don’t. I don’t know how to cook but I can still identify—”
“What is this?”
She held up a plastic spoon in front of me between her hands.
“It’s a measuring spoon,” I said.
“How much does it measure?”
“I don’t know. You’re blocking the measurement with your finger.”
“But you just said you know what it is.”
“Right. I do. It’s a measuring spoon. And I’d know how much it measures if you’d just move your finger—”
“Cooking takes timing. Very precise timing. If you waste time, like the few seconds it takes to look at which measuring spoon you’re using, it can mean the difference between something being perfectly done and burning it. You have to know what everything is before you can use it. If you feel like I’m treating you like a child, it’s because I am.”
“What?”
“A child doesn’t come out of the womb knowing how to do the things we teach them. You are no different.”
“I—”
I was offended to say the least. Camille stared back at me with a skeptical look on her face, waiting for my response. I didn’t even care about learning. It all felt like a waste of time. But right before I was going to respond, I saw Stephen across the kitchen from the corner of my eye. He looked up from his lunch and stared at me, silently chewing upon his food.
You can do this, Aria. It’s just your first day.
I knew that there was nothing I could say. I sighed and motioned with my hand for Camille to continue with her lesson.
“All right,” I said. “Fine. Let’s keep going. How much longer is this going to take?”
“It takes years, Miss Aria. You said it yourself.”
“Right.”
I stepped to the side and let Camille show me through the rest of the kitchen. She pointed everything out to me, including all of the things I thought I knew. The entire time, Stephen sat off to the side and watched me. He didn’t say anything. He just sat in silence while he ate his lunch.
I didn’t know how much time went by when Stephen finally left. But my introductory lesson with Camille wasn’t over. It was my first day but there was still a lot more for me to learn.
Chapter 10
“That’s enough for today.”
“That’s it? But we didn’t even do anything.”
“I know. And you still look exhausted.”
I looked up at one of the clocks and was surprised to see how many hours had passed. Camille and I went over everything in the kitchen. She showed me how everything worked. It wasn’t any different from the equipment I had back home. Of course, it didn’t help that I never used any of that equipment.
“Look, it’s only your first day,” she said. “You have a long way to go. This isn’t an ordinary ki
tchen.”
“I’ll say. I thought Stephen lives alone.”
“He does.”
“Then why does he need a place this big? Who is he feeding?”
“There are times when Master Stephen entertains people. It’s not often but it does happen. That’s when all of this becomes necessary. Try to remember everything I told you. And return tomorrow. Early. We have a lot to go over. I need to get his dinner started.”
I nodded to Camille and I watched her remove a few ingredients from the pantry before making my way out of the kitchen. As soon as I stepped into the hall, I realized I made the mistake of getting lost in the labyrinth of a mansion.
“Great…”
I sighed as I wandered down one of the corridors, hoping that I would see something that I recognized. But all of the art on the walls and fancy decor looked the same to me.
“Maybe if I’d actually paid attention in art class I could actually tell the difference…”
I eventually stumbled upon the main hall of the mansion. There were people still dusting and polishing the floors. Crosby stood next to the exit like he was waiting for my arrival.
“You guys need to post a map or something,” I said as I walked up to him. “You know those directories they have at the mall? You should put one of those up.”
“You’ll grow more comfortable in your surroundings, Miss Aria. In due time.”
“One of these days, one of these servants is gonna find my skeleton after I come up missing… Am I done for today?”
“Almost. Master Stephen would like to speak to you. Don’t worry. I’ll lead you to him.”
I sighed as I followed Crosby down another one of the halls in the mansion. It was a surprisingly short walk. We found Stephen at his desk in a room that looked like an office. It was sparse with nothing more than a few empty shelves beside his desk.
Stephen sat in his chair while he spoke to someone over the phone. Crosby left me alone and closed the door behind him. When he did, Stephen hung up the phone and held his hand out.
“Have a seat.”
I sat down across from him, wondering what more he could possibly have in store for me.