Maid for Martin Read online

  He didn’t want Celia, and it would be easy at this moment to want Randi. This was one reason why he turned from the stairs and made his way across the living room and down a set of steps to the spare bedroom. It would be the first time he’d slept alone in months, but he had a feeling it would not be the last.

  Chapter 7

  Saturday

  The first day of work at a new job could be rough. Learning the pace, getting your bearings, finding your place on the service team, could make your stress level rise.

  The morning meeting helped put Randi at ease. The temporary help seemed friendly, and that was a good sign. Nancy kept saying this job was important, but didn’t say why. Not knowing made Randi nervous.

  Was there something bigger at stake? Could they be about to overtake their competition? She should have asked. She tried to clear her mind, focusing on the task at hand.

  Seven men and women were at the meeting. Now her mind went in another direction. Where was Mike? Didn’t he have to attend the meetings?

  Emma, the household manager, announced that she was the only full-time employee. This caused Randi to wonder when she might see the cute limo driver again. Two men stood in the room. They were there to help with the outside lights and any heavy lifting inside the house while the women were cleaning.

  The last three of the seven were all women. One of them, Ann, seemed to know Emma well. Ann looked to be in her early twenties, but like all the women, she wore her hair pulled back in bun, and this made her look older.

  The meeting lasted twenty minutes, and afterward the staff quickly parted ways. Lonnie and Jake, who were landscapers, made their way to start with the outside Christmas decorations. Emma and Ann stepped to the side, and after a moment Ann nodded and left with Juanita and Maria in tow.

  Randi guessed that the first few days would be like a competition. She knew every woman that worked at Maids 101, and she’d bet money that Maria and Juanita worked for House Helpers, their number-one competitor.

  Randi watched the three women leave, waiting for orders.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Randi,” Emma offered.

  “Nice to work with you too. Should I call you Emma?”

  “Yes, please.” Emma sat at the table and motioned for Randi to step closer. Emma glanced toward the hall before speaking. “I know Maids 101 was supposed to send over two women.”

  “Yes, ma’am, until then I’ll do the work of two.”

  “Good. And so you’ll know, this job could become permanent. Mr. Taylor’s been using various temp agencies to clean the house since he moved in, but he’s thinking of hiring at least one full-time maid. The service and/or maid that gets the best evaluation could be the one to end up with the position.”

  “I assume you’ll be doing the rating.”

  Emma shrugged, “Not all of it. Celia Taylor, as she requested that I call her, will have the final say.”

  “I didn’t think they were married.”

  “They aren’t, but if you happen to find yourself in her presence, I suggest you call her Ms. Taylor and leave it at that.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve also been given the lecture on avoiding Mr. Taylor at all costs.”

  “You got it.” Emma smiled. “Ann, by the way, is my niece. She’ll be sharing your room at times. House Helpers, on the other hand, doesn’t have clearance for overnight stays. They’ll come and go each day.”

  Randi tried not to smile, but it was hard. She’d not heard much about her competitors and would be sure and share this news with Nancy. “I should get started. Where to first?”

  Emma looked at her clipboard. “I’ve been told to stick with the areas of the house that the guests will be visiting, so go to the top of the stairs, go left, and start on the guest rooms.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And don’t dare breathe to those HH girls where I have you working. For now the upstairs is off-limits to them. I’ve heard some of the girls have sticky fingers. Not that I want you spying, but if you notice anything, tell me in private.”

  “Certainly.” Randi hid a smile. “Mum’s the word.”

  “Good. Nancy and I go way back. We went to high school together and she says you’re one of her best girls. I’ll expect you to live up to my expectations. Now get to work. You’ll find everything you need in the cleaning closet, third door on the left.

  *****

  Martin had risen early to work in the garage again, and then decided to take a ride to see his friend Mike. On the way his mind kept going over the chat he'd had with Bill. He’d promised his agent as they parted ways that he’d give his liaison with Celia serious thought. It was a relief to Bill that he and Celia were not engaged.

  The upcoming party might be an indication that a proposal was in the works. This thought and the day’s events had brought on a strange dream. Martin knelt under the mistletoe. Celia’s family was on one side of the room, his family on the other.

  He was about to pop the question when Randi walked in. She stood, arms crossed, giving him a cynical look. She started to turn, and then asked, ‘Martin is this what you really want?’ He came awake fast, sitting up, thinking, No, it isn't what I want.

  If he could find a way to stop the party before it started he would, but so many people had made plans that it wouldn’t be fair to cancel. It had made sense when he’d agreed to it. He and Celia both wanted to spend time with their families, and his home was large enough to comfortably hold twenty guests, so he’d agreed.

  He could see now that combining his parents and hers would give signals that wedding bells could be ringing. Thankfully, he and Celia had never talked about a wedding. He wondered if she was expecting a ring under the tree. He’d have to be sure and let her know that one wasn’t going to happen.

  After the way she’d been acting of late, he was wondering if by the end of the year they would even be living under the same roof. That would make his mother happy.

  Martin also had other problems on his mind. He wasn’t looking forward to running into Randi. It wasn’t going to be easy looking into those pretty eyes and saying, I’m Martin Taylor. He hated to lose the connection. It was great to have someone that treated him as if he was just the limo driver.

  Many women would put on airs and say what they thought he wanted to hear. It was a nice change to have someone be honest, and not handle him with kid gloves. Randi was attracted to him, but she didn’t treat him as if he was a king. It took him back to the days when he was doing community theater in Toronto.

  He smiled as he dismounted his second bike, a K-650. The memory of the way Randi pulled his hand under the cold water flashed through his mind. She didn’t care if the action might offend him, or worry that her actions or words might affect her chances of becoming the next rising star in Hollywood.

  “How do you stand to ride that thing, all laid over? Doesn’t it kill your back?” The voice of his good friend Mike Jackson brought him out of his thoughts. He laid his helmet on the bike, turning to shake hands with the broad-shouldered man.

  “I don’t ride often, and you can ride sitting up. You just look old if you do.” Martin laughed at his own comment.

  “I’ll stick with nice comfortable bikes.” Mike gestured to two chairs. “I was just getting ready to go down to the pond and do some fishing. Want to join me?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  A few minutes later the two men sat in folding chairs, both with a pole in hand, and a chest of drinks between them. Mike propped up his pole, took out a can, popped it open, and spoke. “You don’t look so chipper. That party mess getting to you?”

  Martin pulled on the line, thinking he had a bite, then glanced at Mike. “My agent all but told me to dump Celia.”

  “Did he now?” Mike pursed his lips.

  “Sure did. I hate to admit it, but his comments and other things have me thinking he might not far from the mark.”

  Mike took a sip of his cola and set the can down on the armrest. “I think it’
ll be one of the best moves you made since you did The Outback. I can’t stand the woman, and other than her looks, I’m not sure what you see in her.”

  “That’s harsh. Why didn’t you say something before?”

  “It’s none of my business. But . . . since you came all the way up here, I can assume you wanted my honest opinion.”

  “I do. I just didn’t think you disliked her so much.” Martin opened up his own cola and looked up at Mike with a smile. “I guess I’m not the only one around here that can act.”

  Chapter 8

  Angry Mistress

  Randi almost toppled off her stepping stool. Celia’s tirade could be heard all over the house. She was angry about something, but Randi had no clue what. There was one last curtain to put back, so, before sticking her head out into the hallway to see if she could tell what was amiss, she went on with her work.

  Minutes later she eased out the door and tilted her head, listening. Nothing but silence. She shrugged, pushed the cleaning cart into the hall, and moved to the next room. Randi took out her bottle of water and took a long drink. She put the lid back and glanced at her watch. It was close to six, but she wanted to keep working.

  The others would be leaving soon, and she would get ahead of them by working until eight. It wasn’t strenuous work. She was replacing curtains and rugs that had been washed or dry-cleaned, cleaning mirrors, and replacing bed sheets and linens.

  For now she was working on the guest rooms and Maria, Juanita, and Ann were working in the great room, library, and dining room. In two days Emma would go around and check their work. Randi felt like she was back in school again, worrying if she would pass or fail.

  Around eight, Randi grabbed a sandwich and a cola and went to her room. Things had been moved around and instead of one large bed there were two. She recalled the words of Emma, that she and Ann would be sharing a room.

  She sat on her bed. It was big enough and she didn’t mind the company. Ann’s things lay in a pile on the bed next to the bathroom, so Randi had taken the other. Randi wondered what time Ann would retire. She’d have to ask. She didn’t want to wake anyone by going to the refrigerator for a cup of pudding or for a chance to run into the handsome limo driver.

  When she was done eating she took her glass and plate to the kitchen. The house was quiet so she decided to see what the girls had accomplished in the great room. She walked through the house, peeping around corners as if she were a burglar instead of a temporary houseguest.

  You had to take three steps down to get into the great room. Randi was in awe as she stepped down to ground level. The hardwood floors shone like new money. The room was long, the chairs were white, and it would look beautiful draped in red, green and gold.

  A piano sat near the entryway and a fireplace in the middle of the room. A large window seat would make a perfect place for a tree. Randi walked the full length, seeing in her mind how beautiful it would be.

  The tree would be real, and you’d need a ladder to decorate it. She couldn’t wait. She just loved Christmas. She walked on back and found an entryway that led off to another room. There was a long bar that would more than likely be used for a buffet, several small dining tables, and a refrigerator. It reminded her of a small restaurant.

  There was a bar at the back, and along the wall was a beautiful painting. She walked back to take a look. It was stunning, showing a large field of flowers, a small house in the background, and a girl and her dog playing in the field. She smiled and tried to read the signature on the painting.

  As she turned to leave, she heard the sound of heels on the floor, and a voice. It was Celia. Randi bit her bottom lip and stepped back, hoping the lady of the house didn’t catch her snooping. She pulled out a rag from her back pocket and began to shine up the bar.

  Moments later Celia spoke. “I don’t have a clue where he is. He slipped out this morning. He left a note saying he had some thinking to do.” This had Randi’s attention and she wondered if she should let Celia know she was there or just go on cleaning.

  “I know this has something to do with that agent. He’s never liked me. No, mother, I don’t care what happens. I’m not changing for any man. He can take me like I am, or leave.”

  You’ll be the one leaving, Randi thought, a smile on her lips. Martin must have run off. That wasn’t a good sign. Randi stopped cleaning and ducked down behind the bar, praying that the woman didn’t want a drink.

  The sound of heels kept coming. Randi closed her eyes tightly as if this would help her disappear. “I’m not going to ask him to forgive me. All actors are the same. They’re self-absorbed and they need someone around to keep them grounded. It’ll work out. Hey, I have a call coming in. I’ll call you later.

  “Hey, Martin, where are you? I’ve been trying to call you all day.” Randi noticed Celia’s tone had changed. And thankfully her heels were going in the other direction. Randi sighed and straightened, being careful not to bump into anything.

  “Why didn’t you come home last night? I waited for you for hours. It’s been days since we’ve made— What? No. You have to come home. We have guests coming. Listen, we can work this out. We don’t need to have this discussion until the party’s over.”

  Trouble in paradise. Randi strained to hear as Celia walked farther away. She moved along the wall, moving closer so she could hear what happened next.

  “I know I’m not always supportive, but you have to understand. I can’t help it if I don’t like your occupation. The people you work with are all fake. They’re just out to see what they can get – No, that’s not acceptable. I want you home tonight. Your family will be here Friday, and there are things we need to discuss.”

  As Celia started to pace again Randi stepped back. There was silence on the phone and she heard a sigh escape as Celia’s heels clicked across the floor. Randi didn’t pray much these days, but her mother had instilled it in her, that in times of need you bowed your heart and lifted your head, so she did so. Please get me out of this one. I need this job.

  When Celia spoke it was easy for Randi to see that her tone had changed. It was so obvious she was trying to appeal to Martin’s softer side. Randi hoped the conversation was coming to an end and she prayed to that effect as Celia spoke.

  “I know I can be harsh. Take a few days off. I know this party is getting on our nerves. I can handle things. Enjoy your time with Mike, and be sure and invite him to the party. I know he’s in and out of your life, but he seems to put you at ease, so be sure he comes.”

  With this, Celia shut the phone and cursed a blue streak as she clip-clopped her way up the steps and out of the great room. Randi’s brow furrowed. Could the Mike Celia was talking about be the same Mike that was working on the Harley and driving the limo? If the Limo driver and Celia were sleeping around, she wouldn’t invite him to the party. Would she?

  Randi shook her head and slipped around the corner. Celia was right about one thing. This party was driving everyone nuts. And on the subject of men, it didn’t really matter if Mike was the limo driver or if Martin did come home tonight. Randi had a feeling she’d be a lot better off if she could avoid both of them, and she resolved to do just that.

  Chapter 9

  Emma

  Emma pressed her fingers to her forehead. It was going to be a long two weeks until Christmas. She shook off the irritations of the day and gathered her papers to go home. It would be good to get her hair out of this bun and soak her feet.

  She’d wanted to go home when she heard Celia ranting. From what she had overheard it seemed that Martin had left and wasn’t coming back tonight. That woman had finally driven that kind man from his own home, and Emma didn’t like it one bit.

  Taking a deep breath, she rose from the table and carried her empty glass to the sink. She was about to turn on the water when someone spoke.

  “I’ll wash that for you.”

  Emma turned to find Randi stepping into the kitchen. “No use in you getting your hands wet, when you
’re about to leave. I was going to clean out the fridge. There'll be more to go with that mug in a bit. By the way, is there a dog that will eat scraps?”

  “My dear, if there was one, he wouldn’t be allowed to eat scraps. It would be beneath him, or at least it would be beneath the lady of the house.” Emma said, keeping her voice low.

  Randi lowered her gaze and pursed her lips, showing her distaste for fancy dogs and irritable mistresses. “Too bad. There’s meatloaf, and steak that looks like it needs to be tossed.” Randi moved to the sink and began to run some dishwater, and then went back to the refrigerator.

  “You’re serious? You’re going to clean it out?” Emma made a mental note that this girl was either bored or a hard worker.

  “I can’t stand a messy icebox.” Randi opened the door and gestured. “Look at this mess. Bowls all over the place, little bits of this and that. Do these people ever eat leftovers, and if not, why keep them?”

  “They eat out a lot and bring it home. Like you said, I’m not sure why. I think they just forget there’s food in there. Celia doesn’t spend time in the kitchen. I used to cook all the time when it was just Martin, but not now. I hate to admit it, but I haven’t even looked in there in ages. It’s good you caught that mess, and not Celia.”

  “Glad I could help, but it’s a shame to toss this food out.”

  Emma peeped out toward the living room. She didn’t want Celia to hear. “A person could slip outside and around to the garage and find a small hole at the bottom of the fence. It might be that a stray will come and eat it, but you didn’t hear that from me.” Emma gave the girl a wink and moved to pick up her files.

  “That secret’s safe with me.” Randi began to push the leftovers onto a plate and dropped the dirty dishes into hot water.

  Emma tucked the file under her arm, started to go, and then turned back. “I know this trial period is like a competition, but just know that Ann is not part of the contest. For her this is just temporary. She goes back to college after Christmas break.”