from my father, and any admittance of weakness signals their predatory instincts.
She cocks her head at me and sits up straighter, as if she has someone to impress, never mind the fact that she has mascara smudged underneath her eyes. “My help?” she repeats. “Whatever for?”
“I need a new maid. Charlotte quit two weeks ago.”
“I’m aware. I had to drive her to the train station, tears running down her face. What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything. She just couldn’t handle pressure.”
She raises her brows.
“It’s true,” I go on. “And I don’t have the time to find anyone suitable. I’ve been too fucking busy now with Blaise and Seraphine gone. The new hires are of piss-poor quality.”
“You hired them.”
“And they were the best of the lot. Now I need you to find me someone who I can depend on, who can handle working for me, who can take shit and thrive on it. Someone smarter than your average maid. Someone who can handle more than just wiping piss off my toilet seat and making the bed.”
Her upper lip curls in distaste. “Really, Pascal.”
I shrug. “At least I’m honest about it.”
She frowns, her nostrils widening as she inhales. I’m surprised that part of her face can even move, considering the amount of Botox she has injected in there.
“As it so happens,” she says slowly, with a touch of smugness in her eyes, “I do know of someone who would be perfect for you. Perfect for this family.”
I give her an expectant look to go on.
“Gabrielle.”
Though the name is instantly familiar, I have to rack my brain for the meaning.
“Gabrielle Caron,” she goes on, though the last name means nothing to me. “Jolie’s daughter.”
Jolie. My mother and father’s maid, who has been with the family for the last twelve years. I’d almost forgotten that Gabrielle had been living in the servants’ quarters with her mother until some years ago, when she suddenly disappeared.
“She’s here?” I ask. “How do you know?” I certainly haven’t seen her around, but then again, I’ve been at the office most of the time.
“Jolie told me the other day.”
“And is Gabrielle here to get her job back?” I was seventeen by the time Gabrielle came to live with her mother. I’m guessing she was around twelve or thirteen at the time. A gangly-looking girl with big teeth and even bigger eyes. Kept to herself. I rarely saw her much until she was sixteen and started working alongside her mother. I remember liking her, as much as I liked anyone. At the very least, she did what she was told and always had a warm yet professional demeanor about her. She became my father’s personal maid for two years. Seemed to handle it well, perhaps because my father always acted rather fond of her. Then one day she left, never to return.
Until now.
“I’m not sure why she’s back,” my mother says. “But Jolie says she’s been studying in New York all this time. Business, I think. She was a smart girl, if I remember.”
“I don’t remember much of what goes on with the staff,” I say, “but I do know that she was working for us full-time when she should have been in school. Her mother was never smart enough to teach her anything, so she’s really just a dropout. Business school in New York sounds like a stretch.”
My mother yawns and gets to her feet, clutching her silk robe. “You asked me to find you someone, and I just gave you an option. I’ll ask Jolie tomorrow.”
“I’ll ask,” I tell her. “And I’ll put Gabrielle through a proper interview.”
“Suit yourself. I’m going to bed.”
Her walk to the bedroom is a mix of drunken staggering and the overcorrection of that, causing her to sway with her head held high. Once she’s in her room, I hear the pop of a cork and assume she’s having another nightcap.
I shake my head, and for a brief instant, I feel something like pity for my mother. To have everything and find alcohol the only way to enjoy it. To waste a life like that.
But those feelings never stay long for me. I turn to head back to my room, and they dissolve like dust behind me.
I wake up the next day with an erection the size of a skyscraper. I can’t remember my dreams, but images flit through my mind, me balls deep inside some leggy blonde up against the wall of my office. It makes sense; I’ve been so