“Good Morning, Mr. Maynard” I said. He was looking out through the ceiling to floor window that had an amazing view of the gardens, a pool area complete with a pool house, a duck pond with no ducks and what seemed like endless acres of land.
“Good Morning, Miss Stuart,” he turned to look at me and walked to his mahogany desk and motioned me towards a chair in front of it. I felt excessively overdressed. There I was in a grey executive pantsuit while he stood in pre-washed jeans and a polo shirt. Even Patrick Maynard knew how to relax on a weekend. It was me who was truly pathetic and needed to get a life. Putting aside my lame, self pitying thoughts I sat on the chair that was waiting for my ass. What can I say? I was born a poet.
“You are punctual, that’s a quality I appreciate, Miss Stuart” I smiled and winced at the same time, he was praising my qualities but calling me Miss Stuart.
“Lucinda” I said smiling shyly. What the hell? Why am I shy around this guy? Well he was the owner of May, inc. “You can call me Lucinda” I say with more confidence and crossed my legs.
“Lucinda” he nodded and went on as he leaned forward “well, I asked you to start today because Sunday is usually a slow day. I don’t have anything scheduled until a gala event tonight, so we can go over a few details on things I will need.” I had a big suitcase full of clothes that were too dressy to just sit there doing nothing, but not fancy enough for a gala. Would we be taking the jet?
I could only nod. Too many thoughts racing through my mind. Mr. Maynard laid back on his chair, intertwined his own fingers over his crossed leg and gave me a vague look. He seemed to be deep in thought.
“Ok. First things first, you’ll be staying at the pool house. It has everything you need and more privacy than any human being could ask for…” What? Pool house? Just for tonight, right?
“Just for tonight, right?” I interrupted him. Damn habit. Let go, Lucy, let go.
“Just for tonight what?”he asked narrowing his eyes at me.
“The pool house. I am staying at the pool house only tonight, then I’ll be able to go back to my place next week… right?” I said a bit more shyly and in a respectful way. I had to learn to be an employee!
“No, Lucinda.” Hmm. My full name sounded great coming from his lips: “Lucinda”, said with authority. Shit! Focus! “You are to live here while you are my assistant. That’s why I hire assistants who are single. I’ll need you 24/7 and I won’t wait for you to drive one hour from your place to here. Why would I?” Damn! Arrogant much? But he was right. I wasn’t making any sense.
“You are right, Mr. Maynard, it’s just that I have a mortgage and …” I scolded myself. I needed to let go, I knew I would be able to pay my mortgage and live there because well, it was rent free. “I’m sorry, it’s nothing. I have no problem with staying here.” Just let go.
“Good,” he nodded. “Now, you might like to change into something more comfortable, it’s the weekend after all and today we’ll be working long hours before the event.”
“Yes, thank you Mr. Maynard,” I said.
“Mike will show you to the house. I’ll see you back here in an hour.” I got up and nodded when I walked out of the office Mike was already waiting for me. How did they do that? He appeared out of nowhere.
“Mike” I smiled.
“Miss Stuart,” he smiled back. I liked him.
“Lucinda, please.” I said as he started walking and me following.
“What’s short for Lucinda?” he asked not looking back at me. We passed the main entrance and foyer and went down a couple of steps into the living room and another couple of steps into the dining room. So elegant!
“Lucy,” I said while looking around, the place was huge and amazing and I was scared of touching something because it might fall off and break and cost a million dollars.
“Lucy. It suits you, you seem sweet,” I had to laugh out loud at that.
“Oh Mike, I’m anything but sweet. I can be a bitch.” That caused him to look back at me and raised his eyebrows.
“True story.” I said nodding. Mike laughed and shook his head as we went out into a huge garden and then into a path that led to the covered pool, a huge one in the shape of an “L”, and far at the back I could see the pool house. Well, it was a house indeed! Almost as big as mine in Philly. A pool house as big as the house I worked so hard to pay for and never spend any time in. Sad but true.
Mike opened the white door to a miniature version of the stone manor and I walked in. The first thing I saw to the right was a breakfast counter and I assumed that behind it there was a kitchen and to the left a living room with red leather couches that screamed at me to get comfortable onto them. I took a couple of steps and I saw the kitchen behind the counter all white and simple looking although I was sure there was nothing simple about the furniture in this house. Next to the kitchen and only divided by swinging doors, was the dining room. Everything seemed taken out of a magazine. Come to think of it, it probably was. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was designed by someone featured on interior design magazines.
“What do you think, Lucy?” Mikes voice brought me back from my interior design rambling.
“Oh! I love it Mike, it’s amazing” I gave an all white, wide smile.
“Good,” he nodded “Your bags are in your room upstairs. Make yourself at home”
“Thank you. “I smiled again and he closed the door behind him.
I went up through some narrow marble stairs and into the second floor that had one bathroom, a bedroom and an office. Made sense, I had somewhere to work. I looked out of my room’s window where you could see the same acres of land that I had seen from Maynard’s office. Oh, there was the pond! Oh! And the office. I made a mental note to close the blinds while changing clothes and went to the office to look at the window. The pool. The pool seemed inviting. I hadn’t gone swimming in a million years; the last time was in a rare business trip to LA. That was a good night. I had sex. Having sex for me was a highlight of the month. I never had sex with the same guy more than twice. I was not a whore, I didn’t sleep around. I didn’t have time for relationships so when the opportunity to have my physical needs met arose I took it. If I couldn’t have a life at least I could have sex; like once every two months.
Once again I was deep into my pathetic life thoughts when I forced myself to stop looking at the pool and to change into something more casual as Maynard said. I opted for some jeans and a purple tank top with a denim jacket. I tossed my heels aside, thankful for the opportunity, and slipped my running shoes on. I was ready for some long work hours; this was perfect as far I was concerned. I looked at my watch and I had 15 minutes to spare but I didn’t waste them. I went straight to the main house. Yes, I was letting go but my boss had praised me for being punctual so I intended to keep it that way.
I knocked on Maynard’s door and I heard him telling me to come in. As I entered the office I saw him coming from a door that I hadn’t seen before. He smiled. He seemed content with his life, how come I wasn’t that lucky? There I went again, rambling and thinking and mind mumbling about my life crisis. Shut up, Lucy. Seriously.
“Lucinda,” There! It wasn’t a dream. He said my name with authority, different from everyone else. Well, no one called me Lucinda anymore, but my point still stood. “I thought that we would be more comfortable if we worked in the library. The work table there and chairs are more comfortable.” I nodded and walked towards the door he motioned to with his hand. The place had more doors than a castle in a fairy tale.
I stepped in and of course the library reminded me of the public library on Logan Square. Huge! They say that whenever the words “big library” are mentioned, you can’t help but think of the one on Beauty and The Beast. Well, it was happening to me. I was Belle and this international business mogul was the better looking Beast. There were shelves from floor to ceiling with endless rows of books and lots of places to read, a desk, a leather arm chair, a leather sofa and far behind a corner there was
a round table with a bunch of office leather chairs. I assumed that’s where we’d be working. It seemed comfortable enough.
“There,” I heard him say and I walked towards the round table.
“This is amazing,” I said still looking around trying to catch a few book titles.
“Do you like to read?” He asked as he took a chair and I did the same, trying to take one a bit further from him. I didn’t want to seem clingy and smothering. We would have plenty of that. I WAS his personal assistant after all.
“I liked my English class in high school well enough.” I shrugged and looked back at him. “I haven’t had time to read in about 10 years. All I’ve read in that time are business text books.”
“Well, you need to fix that, don’t you? You can come in here whenever you want,” he said looking around and pointing to one shelf, “Classics” then to another, “Novels” another, “Biographies” and one more, “Contemporary literature.” He looked back at me and smiled, looking mighty proud of his library. “I haven’t read most of them but I like to try and keep up. I was pretty up to date until one month ago.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“My personal assistant quit,” he smiled and I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. There. My very first assignment: Updating the library.
“Ok, then,” he put his hands together, rubbed them and then took some folders that were already on the table “Lucinda, let’s start with the basics, shall we?” he looked at me and I just nodded as I took out of my work phone, tablet and yellow notepad from my briefcase.
“You are not a talker, are you?” he asked me while searching for something on his files.
“Oh! I am Mr. Maynard.” I told him grinning. I was a talker but I was just trying not to be one at the moment, or speak too much to sound too bossy or an asshole; usually asshole or bitch were the words used to define me. “Patrick,” I heard as I came down from my cloud.
“Excuse me?” I asked shaking all previous thoughts about bitchiness.
“Call me Patrick, Lucinda. We’ll have to spend too much time together and having a formal relationship will only make it harder for you to stand me, believe me, I am difficult at times. Being on a first name basis doesn’t mean being unprofessional, Lucinda,” he smiled knowingly. Seemed as if he knew something that I didn’t. However, what he didn’t know was that with that he was giving me a lesson. I needed to get the stick out of my ass and just relax.
“Ok then, Patrick,” I nodded.
“So, you were saying, you are a talker…” He tried to go back to where we were before his mini lecture on being casual.
“Oh, yes. I am a talker, I am just trying to hold on to my words because I can be a bit forward, opinionated.” I stopped as he looked at me with a smile that told me he knew exactly what I meant so I took the opportunity to relax. “A bitch you could say,” he let out a snort and threw his head back with a bit of laughter.
“Well, bitchy trumps mousey that’s for sure,” I must have looked confused because he felt the need to elaborate, “the girl that had gotten the job,” he said and I nodded. “She was mousey, too shy, like 23 years old and looked like she might be a prude.”
“And that is wrong becaaaauuseee…” I left the sentence lingering waiting for him to finish it.
“I am not a prude, Lucinda. Sometimes you will have to take care of my dark secrets,” he smiled wide. Oh my God, was he telling me that I would have to take care of his relationship shit? I opened my eyes wide and he just nodded and shrugged “She was the best I had found… until you.” I beamed on the inside. Being praised at work had always been the most important thing in life. Right now I was being praised by Patrick Maynard and that was pretty awesome. Another awesome thing in this awesomeness (I hadn’t read a fiction book in a decade, how was I supposed to express myself poetically?) is that he was laid back. Patrick Maynard was laid back and that was good because: A) You would think that a billionaire businessman would be an asshole, B) My experience told me that if my boss was laid back then I would excel at my job.
“As I was saying,” he went on “the basics.”
“Right, the basics,” I said as I took my yellow notepad and saw Patrick move over next to my chair.
“The house,” he said taking on a more professional tone, “I need you to take care of my needs in here; I know it sounds horrible but all I want from you is that you make sure that I have everything I need in my everyday life, like clothes, food, soap… I don’t know… what I need” he said as I scribbled down on my pad.
“So you want me to be your housekeeper?” I said looking up and he smiled, at least he had a sense of humor.
“No, Lucinda, I have a housekeeper, I need you to supervise my housekeeper,” he crossed his leg and put his hands on it. “Remember that one of the qualifications for the job was to know a bit about HR?” I nodded. “Well this is when it will come handy; you will have to deal with my house staff, my office staff and sometimes with some other company’s staff. How will someone that has no experience in dealing with employees manage that? They would eat her alive. I think mousey would have not lasted a week, we did her a favor,” he finished shaking his head.
“Ok,” I said and wrote down what I could, “that’s why I got the long list of employees” he nodded.
“Of course,” he smiled and I knew the next comment will be humorous, “I’m like a pregnant lady, I feel the need for the most strange things at the most strange hours of the day and that’s where you come in.”
“Right,” I scribbled “Pregnant lady cravings,” he laughed and went on and on about everyone on the employees list. He really needed me to know who was who, who was I allowed to give appointments to and who was supposed to be delayed until the last minute if possible. Who needed to be nagged about deadlines, and who would be nagging us for files.
We spent the next 3 hours over hundreds of names and lists, I wrote everything down because not even Miss Stuart could remember everything about complete strangers. I still could not help but wonder why I was supposed to be nagging someone for deadlines; I was a personal assistant, not an executive assistant. Maybe I was supposed to be his everything.
Around 1 o’clock I asked Patrick if he wanted something to eat and he said that we should order something since the housekeeper rarely cooked on Saturdays. He wanted to have some Thai food and I ordered directly from my work phone since I had already transcribed every contact I was given and, again, I was praised for thinking about everything ahead of time. When food arrived Mike took it to the library where we ate.
The eating part was a bit uncomfortable. Have you ever noticed how intimate it’s to share a meal with someone? Not actually sharing from the same plate but the exact moment of eating. You have to be at ease with that person to be able to eat with no conversation in the middle to scare away the awkward.
“Isn’t it kind of wrong to eat in a library?” I said while taking a sip of my Coke, my legs were under me in the leather chair and I looked up to see him.
“Hmm not in MY library,” he said laughing.
“Oh ok,” I said nodding and taking a bite of chicken “Where is it wrong to eat in this house? I mean, just in case something comes up?” I asked smiling.
“Good question,” he said waving his fork at me “I guess food is allowed anywhere in this house. Food is good,” he nods.
“Even your office?”
“Especially in my office! Sometimes I stay in there for days and I do need to eat so, yes, my office is a place for food,” He took a sip of his lemonade and smiled, I was already getting to know that smile; it meant it was time for a comment.
“I bet there are rooms at your place where food is not allowed,” He said smirking.
I let out a laugh, “Yes, there are. No food in the living room, no food in the office. There has never been food in the dining room but that’s not because of a rule,” I smiled.
“Why not then? You don’t cook?” he raised his eyebrows. I felt t
he awkwardness had been scared successfully.
“Oh, no, I don’t cook! But it’s not because of that. I never had time for special dinners. All my dinners, if I am ever at home for them, are eaten over the sink.” I am aware that my comment, as lightly as I tried to put it had a bit of bitterness.
“Dinner party with friends?” he asked hopefully
“I only have one friend, he is always traveling and dinner parties are not my thing, it makes me feel like a lady who brunches or something,” I say wincing at the thought and he laughed out loud.
“Yeah, I don’t like dinner parties either,”
When we were done eating Patrick went on telling me about the company. I couldn’t understand all the information he gave me, all I know is that May, Inc. has all kind of branches, that made me understand the interest they had showed in Little Black Book, May, Inc. had a publishing branch. That also explained the amount of books on the library.
Around 4 in the afternoon he showed me the whole house, it was a big house. I met Ms. Owens, the housekeeper. She seemed to be in her late forties, early fifties, with dark hair and big brown warm eyes, and I had the feeling that she was going to be easy to work with. Patrick showed me the special little things he always wanted to have, although he wasn’t too specific.
“I love watching T.V with snacks,” He said entering to what he called the T.V room but in all honesty it was like mini theater with a flat screen that could not fit in my living room even if it was the only piece of furniture in it. “But not any snacks. I like those things with chocolate on them. They are kind of salty sweet,” I had no idea what he was talking about
“Pretzels?” was all I could think of
“No, I don’t know, ask Ms. Owens,” I shook my head as I wrote down on my pad salty sweet things with chocolate just as a reminder to ask what the hell was that or dive into the storage size pantry that he showed me in the kitchen.
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