Chapter II

The third floor of the estate was much smaller than the main two, almost like an oversized bungalow design, or an estate designed to emulate the aesthetic, and it was here that was home to these rooms; there were seven of them - one in front of the staircase, and three each to either side. They weren’t very large, but they were designed with precise elegance. The bedrooms were the sort of thing you make for guests, but guests never use. "Sam, you're going to be in this room here; it's closest to the staircase, and you'll be considered on call at all hours. There is a shared bathroom on this floor, but your bedroom doesn't have its own. Natalie, you'll be in the room further at the end of the hall to the left; your room does feature an en suite bathroom."

Holy shit. My mouth was hanging open, staring at the small room with wide eyes and amazement. It wasn't big, no. About the size of my room back at the apartment. But it was gorgeous! A four post canopy bed, solid oak dressers, and a door on the right that led to my own private bathroom. I... I didn't know what to say. I'd been looking for a job and what I found was a whole new life. "Thank you so, so much, uh... Cora." That sounded so incredibly informal. We were not equals and it hurt me to try to think of us on the same plane of reality.

"Of course. You're really saving us quite a bit of money on the office manager roll to start with, so it's the least we can be doing. And the least you can do is think about my husband as little as possible - in fact, if you do have filthy thoughts, direct them at me instead.” When Natalie started back at her, Cora winked and laughed with her hand over her mouth. "Where are my manners, you're practically family now, aren't you? Sam." Cora snapped her fingers. "Downstairs, left hall. Find the Matron and get into your uniform. Then bring dinner up for Miss Natalie - she has a long night ahead of her, unpacking and settling in." When Sam didn't move, Cora looked at her incredulously. "I'm not accustomed to giving directions to the help more than once, Sam. Don't be the reason I form that habit."

Sam shook her head in disbelief and went down the stairs. Already, I could sense this was going to cause problems. Best to nip it in the bud. "Um, I really don't need anyone to make me dinner. I'm very low maintenance. I'm just here to put you guys at ease, so I'm going to stay out of the way." Honest to God, I had no idea what was up with this woman. Was she flirting with me? Or was she teasing me? Was anything she said serious, or was all of it serious?

"You're a part of the family, Natalie, and you're going to have to learn to live like us if you want for this to work. Sam is a part of the help. She's getting to stay in a gorgeous bedroom, with no expenses, and make a generous stipend for her time and energy. Did you know we pay for our help to study? No student debts for Sam. Did you know that our help are provided computers, telephones, and uniforms? No expenses for Sam. Did you know that we send our help on vacation every year, when we go, all expenses paid? I think the least Sam can be doing to earn her keep here is to bring you up dinner that somebody else has already prepared, up two flights of stairs. Don't you think that's fair, Natalie?"

...what option did I have? If I said no, I'd be arguing her hospitality. And Sam really did have a good gig here - free vacations? My contract had no vacation days at all for the first two years. I sighed. "Yeah, I suppose that's fair..." A maid came up the stairs with a box in her hands and set it down in my room, near the dresser. Well, better get to unpacking, I supposed.

* * * * *

"If you say a word, I will choke your ass so hard." It had been a half hour since Natalie had started unpacking, and the person who came into her room was none other than her best friend. Only, she was dressed in a maid’s uniform. Black and white, with tights, shined patent shoes, and a corset laced so tight that she looked every bit the gorgeous hourglass that soppy romance novels babbled about. She had a silver platter and a dome over the top in her hands, and she looked precarious on heels too tall to be practical. "Well, come get your damn food, Natalie."

"Holy crap, you're actually hot." Not that she wasn't normally, but she never really dressed to accentuate it. "I will throw this tray at you," she threatened. "I'm pretty sure it's real silver." I took the plate from my best friend and sat down on the edge of my bed. Steak and green beans? The steak smelled delicious, but I'd never liked green beans. "Having fun at your new job?" I asked. "Did you know you get free vacation every year?"

"Did you know that this corset is expected to be three inches tighter in three weeks?" Sam retorted, sourly, picking at the beans on her best friend’s plate. "This is weird, Natalie. Like, there's a reason rich people don't interact with us commoners, the low people, the 'help' quote unquote. They're not like us, they live in this weird ass Emily Gilmore world." Sam tried to sit, failed due to the stars in her peripheral vision, and decided to stay standing. Officially, she was told her title would be "Chambermaid," but she was NOT going to volunteer that information to her best friend! Especially when she was to be chamber...maid...ing, for her. How embarrassing.

"Yeah, well. Think about the money." No bills. No expenses. Just income. We would be rich when we left this place! We could buy our own mansion. Then again, I wasn't making half as much as my best friend. All of it went into room and board expenses. I sighed and took another bite of steak. Jeeze, this was heavenly. I was glad I took Cora up on her offer for food. Ten minutes later, I handed the tray back to my best friend, the steak gone an the green beans untouched.

"I was told to tell you that you have to eat everything." Samantha seemed disappointed to be saying it too, like she had no stake in the whole thing. But if she had to go downstairs with food left on the plate, and then come back upstairs, back and forth, she might just have offed herself with her own garter.

"Um... what?" She shrugged her shoulders. "That's what the cook said." "Right, well, I don't like green beans. So next time she can make something else?" What a weird demand. I rolled my eyes and went back to unpacking. Sam sighed and took the tray out of the room. I didn't think anything of it.

"Ah, settling in well, I see?" It wasn't Cora this time, it was her husband - a man who looked quite a bit more relaxed and down-dressed in his striped pajamas. The cotton had to have a thread count with two commas in the number, of course, and the material was probably harvested by poor slaves in some third world country. The point was, he still looked very impressive.

"Oh, yeah. Um. Well I'm pretty much unpacked. And I start work in the morning, so I thought I would get to bed early tonight." I smiled happily up at the man. It was mostly an act, but I needed him to know I was thankful. "Your wife is very..." Mm.. "She says what she's thinking, and I think that's amazing." Nothing inherently positive in that sentence... "I like her." There we go.

"Cora is quite an easy woman to read, that's true. She was a mute until she was fourteen, so in her adult years she simply chooses to speak her mind. Her honesty takes her very far, Natalie. Honesty and integrity are things we're very proud of, and that includes following the rules. Doing what you'll say you'll do, and not being wasteful." He paced the room while he talked. "You're being fed, housed, and taken care of, Natalie. In future, I'll expect only empty plates from you, am I clear? Some foods may not be to your taste, but give them a chance, won't you? Our chef can make cardboard taste like caviar." This was all so… veiled. So subtle. But it was clear what it was: a warning. About misbehaving. Not finishing her dinner. "Anywho, I'll see you in the morning. Work is at 7. Sweet dreams, Natalie."

"...yeah," I muttered, as the man walked out of the room. I watched the door frame with confusion. What... had just happened? Did he just scold me for not finishing my green beans? I was twenty three years old - so what if I didn't want to eat something? But he made a good point: they were feeding me. The least I could do is eat what I was given. And if I didn't, my boss might see that as a lack of commitment to my role. If he fired me, what would I do? I sighed and laid back on my bed. Yeah, well. I guess I should just eat the stupid beans, huh?

* * * * *

"She's cute in person." Cora smiled, watching the girl through the concealed camera in her room. There were cameras all over the estate, and elsewhere in the house, Samantha was being taught her duties to a finer degree in one of the other monitors. "She's perfect. Just the right balance of resilience to go-getter to ego to need-to-please." Ando stroked his chin. There was a lot more to do, a lot of progress to be made. But it was a start. "It was brilliant of you to elevate her status above Samantha; if she's to ever feel like a little girl, a princess is a good way to start,” he mused to his wife.

"At first I thought her friend would be a problem, but it seems to be working out for the best." Cora kissed her husband on the cheek. "Remember what we talked about - tomorrow at work, make sure you get her started." "Of course."