The Butler

by Danielle Steel

  “I’m not a decorator,” he said, smiling, “but I can certainly organize installing an Ikea kitchen for you. I put in several for my employers’ children in England. It seems to be a universal convenience these days. They’re inexpensive, functional, and durable, and they look great. They install them now. All you really have to do is go there once, pick what you like, and I or someone can get it installed for you. They can do it in a day unless you want something complicated.”

  “That’s exactly what I want, someone to supervise the installation. And phone, Internet, gas, electricity. I don’t speak French. I want to hire someone to clean maybe twice a week. The agency said that wouldn’t be a problem. And beyond that, I don’t know what I’ll need. I’d like to have friends over, when I meet some people, but wouldn’t entertain formally, and I’d have to hire a cook for a dinner party. My cooking is awful.” She smiled at him. “The agency said that you’re a formally trained butler, but I don’t know how much of that I’d need,” she said. Probably very little. And she wasn’t even sure what a butler did.

  “I think I’m going to find, when looking for a new position, that a butler is a jack-of-all-trades these days. There aren’t many formal homes left, which is why I’m not staying where I was. My employers’ children no longer have the same lifestyle their parents did, and they’re going to be selling the houses. I’ve been with the family for sixteen years, and worked for another employer for a year before that, on my first job. It’s going to be a big change for me. I was twenty-six when I went to work for my recent employers. But things have changed since then, and the generation that wants formal service is dying out. There is a lot of human resources involved in the position, managing a large staff. But people don’t want a lot of staff these days either,” he explained. He had an easy, pleasant, polite way of speaking to her, expressing things simply in an unpretentious way. “It sounds like you have enough to keep me busy for a while. I’d like to be here for three or four months before I go back to England. My mother is very independent, but I’d like to spend some time with her, if she lets me.” He smiled at Olivia, and she remembered wondering if he was gay, not that it mattered, but it didn’t seem like it. He seemed like a regular guy, good-looking and with good manners. He looked intelligent, and it was actually hard to imagine him as a formal butler in white tie and tails, but she realized that he probably looked great when he played the part, and did it well.

  “Actually, I just lost my mother,” she said, “so I understand your wanting to spend time with yours.”

  “I’m sorry about your mother,” he said politely. “Mine is still working full-time, and allergic to the idea of my hovering or taking care of her. So, she may throw me out before I want to leave,” he said, grinning, and Olivia laughed.

  “You’re fortunate. Mine had dementia and faded away over several years. Yours sounds very lively.”

  “She is definitely that! I understand better now why you told the agency you wanted an assistant. It’s hard to define a position like this, but butlers do things like this too today. It’s all about maintaining a home and keeping things on track. What you don’t need is formal table service or running other staff.” And her apartment was tiny compared to what he was used to.

  “That sounds about right,” Olivia agreed.

  “When would you want someone to start?”

  “I have this apartment for four more weeks, and I can move things into the new one in two weeks. So I could use someone’s help right away to help me buy what I need, since I’d be doing it in French, and I’m not sure where to go.”

  “Do you have a car?”

  “No, I don’t. I can rent one.”

  “A van would probably be more useful. Ikea delivers, but we can pick things up with the van, and I could drive you. You don’t need a chauffeur to take you to Ikea, and the BHV, which is rather like Ikea, here in the city. It’s a nightmare, massively crowded. You stand on line forever to pay, but they have everything practical you’ll need.”

  “I was wondering about the flea market too.”

  “Good idea, though a little overpriced if you don’t speak the language, and there’s an excellent auction house you can check out.” He was full of good ideas, and their minds were racing. “My mother used to love the flea market. She used to go every weekend and drag home all sorts of treasures, Chinese dragons from some restaurant, supposedly Marie Antoinette’s slipper chair, or one just like it. She came home with the damnedest things, but somehow, they all worked. And she loved auctions too. I’ll ask her where you should go.”

  “Has she given them up?” Olivia asked.

  “There’s not an empty inch in the apartment.” He laughed. “If you hire me, she’s going to be extremely jealous and want to consult.”

  “Does it sound like a job you’d want to do?” she asked him. He was easy to talk to, direct and straightforward, and she could tell that he was very capable, he sounded organized and willing to lend a hand at a multitude of tasks. She had expected him to be pompous and very formal, instead she found him very human, and not full of himself at all, although his previous position had been a very big deal. This sounded like fun to him, and she wasn’t what he had expected either. He had thought she would be bossy and some kind of tough businesswoman, and much older. Instead she seemed very nice and reasonable, a little shy, and younger than he’d thought. She was close to his age. He was respectful and spoke to her as an equal.

  “It sounds interesting and like quite a lot of fun, and a challenge to get you all set up. Will you be working while you’re here?” He was curious about what she did.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t know. I’ve been nursing along a magazine that I started for the last ten years. It was my baby. It folded a few weeks ago. I haven’t figured out the next step, so I told myself I’d take a year off. I’m not sure I’ll stick to that. But I have no plans right now.”

  “That’s more or less the same situation I’m in. Brave new world,” he said. “I didn’t want to go right back into a formal job. And my previous employers were so wonderful, it will be hard to match that situation, so I’m taking a break, and it seemed like a good time to visit my mother before I get buried in work again. Do you have children who’ll be coming over to visit?” It had been one of his concerns about her. Wild teenagers, or badly behaved small children.

  “I don’t have children. With my mother gone, no relatives. I’m on my own.” He nodded and was surprised by that. He wondered if there was a man on the scene, and maybe it was why she had come to Paris, but it didn’t sound like that either, from what she’d said, which would also explain why she needed help.

  “I’m normally not an impulsive person, and not very spontaneous. I work all the time. This is very unusual for me, to take a year off, come to Paris, and rent an apartment. I’m a little surprised at myself. It’s scary as hell, but a nice change.” She smiled at him.

  “I just came back from Argentina, where I grew up. I hadn’t been back in twenty-five years. I guess taking a break once in a while isn’t such a bad thing. I’ve never done it before either.”

  “I’ll probably start working again in a few months. I just don’t know at what. But not another magazine.” She asked him about his salary then and was pleasantly surprised at how reasonable he was.

  “It doesn’t seem fair to ask you for my usual wage. I won’t be doing most of what I normally do as a butler. This is really more of a jack-of-all-trades position, lending you a hand where I can. It sounds like fun, and it will be refreshing. I can go back to formal service when I go back to England if the right job turns up. And that might take a while. I don’t want to rush into anything, and get stuck in the wrong position.” Neither did she. She felt exactly the same way about her next endeavor.

  “Would you like the job, Joachim?” she asked him directly, and he smiled.

  “I’d like that very mu
ch.”

  “When do you want to start?” She was pleased by his answer, and he looked happy too. It seemed like one of those fortuitous moments when two people and an opportunity collide at the right time.

  “How does Monday sound? That will give us both time to gather our wits, make some lists, and figure out where to start. I’d suggest Ikea on Monday morning to order the kitchen and whatever else we find that catches your eye. I can rent a van if you like.”

  “That would be terrific. Monday at nine o’clock?” she said and stood up. And he did the same. They shook hands on it, and she walked him to the door, and then he turned to her with a final question. He was just friendly and personable enough, and just formal enough to be respectful. He had clear boundaries and didn’t try to pretend that they were friends. He knew where the line was and stayed well behind it.

  “One last thing. Costume. Blazer and slacks? Black suit? I don’t believe my livery would go over well at Ikea,” he said with a grin, and she laughed.

  “We can play it by ear. Blazer and slacks if we go somewhere nice, like a fancy antique store, or if I have someone over. Black suit if I give a dinner party. And jeans for Ikea. How does that sound?”

  “Precisely as it should be,” he said, and inclined his head slightly as a salutation of respect and left an instant later. She smiled as she locked the door behind him. Life was certainly galloping ahead. She had an apartment in Paris. And a butler. Her life was changing at lightning speed.

  Chapter 7

  Joachim picked Olivia up at exactly nine o’clock on Monday morning, in the van he had rented. They agreed to go to the new apartment first, so he could get a look at it, size up what they needed in the kitchen, and do some measuring. He brought a notepad, a laser to measure distances, and two industrial tape measures, with both centimeters and inches, since he didn’t know which she preferred. He took photographs with his phone and looked around the rest of the apartment with her, measured some key spaces, for a new bed if she wanted one, coffee table, and some cabinets in the bathroom. He took the basic measurements in the kitchen and told her that once she selected the cabinetry she wanted, he would measure again more precisely. He was businesslike and professional, and half an hour later, they were on the highway to Ikea.

  “It’s a beautiful apartment,” he said, as they drove along. “You made a very good choice.” Everything was in good condition and well maintained. The windows closed smoothly, the doors locked well, the alarm was a modern one. “You should be able to get it set up in no time.” He doubted it would take her three months to organize it, and he’d be out of a job before that, which was all right with him. “I’m going to call the phone, gas, and electric companies this afternoon when we get back, or tomorrow morning.” He seemed fast and efficient. She had called the agency to say she had hired him, and so had he, and they were very pleased. They had promised to send some cleaners for her to interview. She wanted to get the apartment clean before she moved in, and had decided to buy a new mattress. Joachim said he knew a place that would be better than Ikea for that.

  “You can make the calls you need to from my apartment. There’s a workspace you can use. I don’t need it,” she told him. He had brought a laptop in a briefcase.

  They were both quiet on the way to Ikea, lost in their own thoughts. She didn’t feel obliged to speak to him, and he didn’t annoy her with small talk. He was respectful of her space, and his own position. He didn’t attempt to become friends, although they had chatted amicably in the interview, but it was mostly to learn about the composition of her household, and his history.

  They walked into the huge store together. He picked up a large bag and they followed the yellow markings on the floor to the kitchen section. The choices were vast with every kind of counter surface from granite to the least expensive options, shiny lacquered cabinets, or wood ones, everything in a multitude of styles and colors and finishes, and dozens of different kinds of handles. All of it was displayed in a variety of attractive combinations, to show how the products could be used.

  He was surprised by how quickly she made her selections and how decisive she was. She acted like a businesswoman after all, but not in an aggressive way. She showed him all the things she wanted him to order. White lacquer cabinets with a high gloss, simple brushed steel handles, a high-grade white plastic counter surface which he recommended. He had used it for one of the young Cheshires, and it had worked well. They picked light fixtures for the kitchen and he recommended a different store for appliances. They picked shelving, and everything they needed for the kitchen. They walked through the rest of the store then, and she picked kitchen plates and glasses, a big, powder pink, cozy armchair he would assemble for her bedroom, some mirrored cupboards for the second bedroom that could be set up for shelves or hanging, light fixtures for the bathroom, freestanding lamps, assorted tools, and practical things he said he would need for small installations. Two hours later, they were back on the road, with the van full. He was going to order the kitchen online, after he took the correct measurements, and they would install it within a week. Everything was moving quickly.

  “You’re a whiz, Joachim,” she complimented him, and he smiled.

  “I think that’s what you’re paying me for, if I’m not mistaken.” They had spent astonishingly little at Ikea. He was mindful of her budget. “Next stop, Darty,” he said, “for appliances.” The apartment had a washing machine, dryer, and dishwasher, but she had to buy a refrigerator, stove with oven, assorted small appliances, and a vacuum cleaner.

  They went back to the new apartment to unload it all afterward. The rest was being delivered. They stopped at a sandwich shop to buy lunch, ate it in the van, and then went to buy her a new bed, not just a mattress. Then they went back to her current apartment, so he could call about the utilities. She had never seen anyone as efficient. And when they had dropped off her purchases at the new apartment, he had taken the exact measurements for the kitchen, so he could place the order for everything she’d chosen.

  “What about TV and stereo?” he asked her once they were back at her place on the quai Voltaire.

  “I forgot,” she admitted.

  “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

  “I love my new bed, by the way.” She liked the store he had taken her to, and once again, the prices had been reasonable and the products high-quality. “Maybe you should become a decorator, if you don’t find a job you want as a butler.”

  “This isn’t decorating yet,” he reminded her. “This is basics.” But they had covered them all in a single day in a matter of hours. He had set up many houses and apartments for his employer’s children.

  He made a quick run for groceries for her before he left, and left her at six-thirty, having accomplished three days’ work in one. She couldn’t believe how fast he worked or how capable he was. And she agreed with him, he’d have her new place set up for her in no time.

  He was watching French football on TV when his mother got home. He looked energized and happy, and she was pleased to see it. She had shared some very heavy information with him only days before, and she was relieved to see he didn’t seem depressed about it. Maybe the truth was a relief, and if anything, it had brought them closer to each other.

  “So how was the first day of school? How do you like the teacher?” she asked him, as she took off her shoes and sat down on the couch next to him. He turned to her with a big grin.

  “It was fun. Ikea, Darty, we bought a bed, picked out everything for the kitchen, and bought enough tools and practical items to build a house. Vacuum cleaner, microwave, toaster. She’s all set. EDF for electric, Orange for the phone and Internet, and Engie for gas.”

  “My God. I’ll have to send you out on all my errands. I need a new iron.”

  “Happy to do it. She’s actually very nice to work for. Quiet, respectful, polite. She doesn’t talk too much, knows what
she wants, makes quick decisions, and she’s very organized.” He wasn’t used to working for women like her. She was considerably younger and more efficient than the women he’d known in his job. The marchioness led a sheltered, protected life and handled no details about the home, except selecting menus. And the Cheshires’ daughters and daughters-in-law had never had jobs or taken care of themselves. And their sons were equally indulged and inefficient. Joachim had organized everything for all of them.

  “Is she married?”

  He had told his mother on Saturday that Olivia had no children. “No. I don’t know if she has a boyfriend or not. Probably not, or she wouldn’t need me. But there’s nothing helpless about her. She just needed someone to do all the things she can’t, and she lets me do my job without sitting on top of me to check it. It’s not a butler job, but it’s actually quite a lot of fun. It’ll be exciting to see it all come together. I’m sort of a project manager for her move and installation.”

  “At least it’ll keep you from reorganizing my closets again. I can’t find my red sandals, and I can’t reach my hats on the shelf you put in. You can organize hers now.” He laughed.

  They continued buying small things Olivia needed for the next two days, he introduced her to the confusing wonders of the BHV, and on Thursday he took her to his mother’s favorite auction house, the Hôtel Drouot. Olivia had a ball there. It was a treasure hunt in fifteen auction rooms, with new auctions every two days. Forty-five auctions a week. They placed bids on two very handsome leather chairs, and a white lacquer chest for her bedroom. On Friday, she found out that her bids were successful. She had had a very enjoyable week, and Ikea was installing her new kitchen on Monday, the same day the bed was due to arrive. The owner didn’t mind her having things delivered or installed a few days early. She wasn’t rushing to move in. She wanted to set everything up first, so she wouldn’t be moving in to chaos. She had found very decent dining room chairs at Ikea. They were exact copies of some she had and liked in her New York apartment, for a fraction of the price.