Never had I been so excited to be hired. This wasn’t going to be an ordinary job. This would take me to the next level. Lola insisted that to keep the household running strong, I needed to live with her, and I was pleased to hear that. She gave me a tour of her immaculate mansion, even showed me a room on the second floor that would be mine. The room was in its own wing, had lots of privacy, and I shouldn’t forget to mention it was enormous. The bathroom was luxurious, all marble and clean porcelain and sparkling glass. It was more than enough. It was perfect and would definitely beat sleeping in the cramped-up room I was currently in any day.
Lola wanted me to start the following week. I signed a ten-year contract to become her household manager, which meant I’d take care of everything in the mansion.
If Lola needed a particular dinner, I’d inform the chefs. If the grass needed to be cut, I’d call the mowers. If the pool needed cleaning, I’d contact the pool cleaning company.
It seemed simple enough . . . but even I should have known that every good thing came with a price.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
For the first four months living with Lola was wonderful. Her husband was a nice man and didn’t ask for much other than a scotch on the rocks after a rough day.
Lola was the one who was a bit of a handful, but I had gotten used to her ways. I took pride in being the household manager for Lola, and nothing could stop that pride.
I loved cleaning, so picking up after them wasn’t a problem. There was no need for her to have a maid or butler around every day when I was there. The maids only came twice a week to man the bedrooms and bathrooms, dust in the higher places, and so on.
I made sure to always be at the top of my game because I knew I could easily be replaced by some other woman, so if Lola told me to jump, I asked her how high. If she needed me to fetch a certain treat for her raging sweet tooth, I ran off to do it in the car she provided.
Lola despised my car. It was a green 1999 Volkswagen Beetle with brakes that squealed like a baby pig. She’d told me to get rid of it the first week I was hired and said that if I was to work for her, I needed to look like it. She allowed me to drive her SUV to run errands for her and the home, and I sold my car.
My life revolved around Lola Maxwell, and you know what? I enjoyed it. I loved being needed. Being called upon when Lola wanted to talk or rant about a long day.
We’d spend many nights chatting about her goals and dreams. She’d have a glass of wine here and there, but never too much at first.
Lola also surprised me with early nights off, or even nights out quite often.
I’ll never forget the night she took me to a lounge in downtown Miami. It was an open mic night, so we listened to people sing or read poetry over drums or jazz music and sipped fruity cocktails in a VIP section.
That was a night that changed my life forever.
“So tell me, Georgia. Why don’t you have a man?” Lola had asked me over the music that night. She’d had two drinks at this point, and I was still babysitting my first. I’m not much of a drinker.
Her question caught me off guard and I blushed and bowed my head.
She let out an excited laugh. “Oh, come on! Don’t be shy! You can tell me anything!”
“Well,” I said, placing my drink on the table in front of me. “I work for you, so I’m busy with that. I also live at the mansion, so I can’t exactly bring anyone there to hang out or anything.”
“Well, maybe you could hook up with a guy and go to his place or something,” Lola suggested with a playful shrug. She looked great that night, clad in a gold dress that stopped just above her knees and heels to match. Gold eye shadow on her eyelids and plum lipstick. I couldn’t help feeling like she was trying to escape something that night, though. Or someone.
I shrugged and laughed. “I could . . . but I’m not really looking for love right now.”
“Well, just so you know, there’s a guy at the bar who keeps staring at you.” Lola smirked and looked past me to the bar. I looked with her and, sure enough, there was a guy standing there with a beer in hand, looking right at me. He sipped from his beer bottle and then smirked, and my heart pounded faster as I snatched my eyes away.