Maid for the Millionaire by Javier Reinheart Page A

duty is to make sure the drudgery of daily life does not inconvenience his career. Do the hands of the grandfather clock pay mind to the cogs? If you do your job correctly and efficiently, there will be minimal interaction with the master. And in return, he will compensate you accordingly.”
    Part of me was a little disappointed. Victor Carawell was something of a recluse, conducting business entirely from home. To have actually met him in person and to have shaken his hand would put me in a very exclusive group of people. Still, the tone and words in which Helen carried struck true. I was the maid, just a small part in the functioning of this household.
    “The mansion is divided into two wings, the east and west. The east wing is which where Mr. Carawell conducts his business. Due to his unique skillset, his trade secrets must be protected. As such, entering the east wing without express permission from Mr. Carawell, Mrs. Carawell or myself is grounds for dismissal.”
    “No entering the east wing, got it.”
    “You will be spending much of your day in the west wing, which contains the dining area, kitchens, parlor, master bedrooms, and head staff quarters. Like the east wing, you are not to enter the master bedroom area without express permission from Mr. Carawell or myself. He occasionally would like dinners or late night snacks to be brought there.”
    “Where would I be staying?”
    “Our destination in this tour. There is an annex next to the stables outside that houses the maids, butlers and cooks. You will have your own bedroom to retire to at night. Technically, you will be on duty at all hours of the day, but we do try our best to make sure the workload is distributed evenly. You are allowed free reign over the annex, which also contains kitchens for your own use and a recreation area. If you feel like you are missing anything, contact me and I will see what I can do.”
    At the end of the hallway there was a large wooden door that led to the outside. A small gravel path traveled for about a hundred yards before connecting with a small building that could easily house ten or twenty employees dormitory style. Helen warned me that the door to the mansion would lock automatically, but I would have my own key and should immediately report in the case of loss. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the stables on the side of the mansion. I wondered if James was working in there that very second. Helen and I entered the annex together.
    “The annex will be fairly empty at this time of day. I will show you to your room, where you can unpack and settle yourself for the night. I will return with your uniform.”
    Only the muffled sounds of hurried footsteps and doors opening echoed throughout the annex as Helen showed me my personal habitat. I don’t know why I expected it to be as lavish as the rest of the mansion, but it had the bare essentials: bed, desk, drawers, closet and my own personal bathroom. Helen went out to grab my uniform from the annex storage. I took the opportunity to appreciate the view of the mansion out the window.
    The woods extended far beyond what I could see. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement on one of the upper windows. There was a man, staring out into the distance as he buttoned up his white dress shirt. The paintings that peppered my initial tour match his face exactly. There was no doubt about it, I was looking at Victor Carawell himself.
    Even at this distance I felt very small in his presence. Victor’s face was very youthful and boyish for his age; but the way he buttoned his expensive shirt, groomed his jet black hair, held himself filled me with a sense of power. The eyes that stared into the woods were cold and focused, hinting that he was thinking of a million different things at this very second. I could see why he was so good at selling his skills, just one look at him and I was convinced he was a pro.
    The eyes of the billionaire snapped from the woods to the annex,