Wanted: Live-in house manager
Duties include: overseeing household staff, keeping track of accounts, tracking household budget, organizing schedules, etc.
Must be able to handle high-stress situations
Pay will be negotiated based on experience
Odessa Burakov sighed as she reread the advertisement she had clipped from the paper. This was exactly the sort of work she had wanted to avoid, but it was what she was good at, and she was desperate.
Sitting in the back seat of the taxi, she watched the scenery go by as she recounted the phone conversation she'd had with the woman who'd placed the ad, hardly a week ago.
"Meredith Bochek." a bored, drawling voice had answered when she'd telephoned.
"Hello! My name is Odessa Burakov. I am calling regarding the advertisement in the Courier, regarding the house manager position."
"You're interested, I assume."
"Er… yes. Very much."
The woman sighed, as though the very task of speaking was too exhausting to bare.
"Bring your resume and a list of at least five references to the manor tomorrow at noon, and we will see. Have you got a pen?"
The woman had then given Odessa the address before hanging up without so much as a goodbye.
The next day, Odessa had shown up promptly at eleven-forty, resume and references in hand.
The door was opened by a timid-looking young woman wearing a white apron over a boxy, drab grey dress that did nothing for her tiny frame but swallow it. Her wild, copper-colored curls were pulled into a haphazard ponytail. A pair of thick, round-frame glasses shielded her wide, caramel-colored eyes. All in all, she resembled a startled, underfed fox.
"May I help you?" the young woman asked, a nervous smile twitching at her lips. She had a thick Southern accent, calling to mind mint juleps and swooning Belles.
"My name is Odessa Burakov. I spoke with a Meredith Bochek about the-"
"The house manager position!" The young woman nodded earnestly. "Of course! Welcome! Please, follow me!"
The young woman led Odessa into the house, up the stairs, into a richly furnished office.
"Mrs. Bochek? Ms. Burakov's arrived."
"That will be all, Melinda."
The young woman had nodded sharply before turning and leaving.
Mrs. Meredith Bochek was a tall, slender woman with dark brown hair and dull blue eyes. An overall sense of distaste and boredom oozed from the woman. She had married Dr. Wesley Bochek, a plastic surgeon, at twenty-three. Now, after sixteen years and four children, nothing excited her, interested her, or caused her in any way to speak in anything other than monotone.
After glancing over Odessa's resume, Mrs. Bochek had asked Odessa a few vague questions about her skills and work history.
Not ten minutes later, the woman who had answered the door was escorting Odessa back out.
"Thank you, Melinda." Odessa had said politely they were at the front door.
The young woman's cheeks had flushed.
"Jamie." She whispered. "My name's Jamie."
"Oh! I'm sorry." Odessa smiled kindly. "Did you just start working here?"
Jamie shook her head.
"I've been here for two years." She smiled sadly. "She calls me Melinda, Maria, Wendy…" She shrugged. "I just answer to everything now."
A few days later, Odessa received a call from Mrs. Bochek.
The job was hers if she could start the next day.
And now, here she was on the way to her new life. Carmen had helped her pack her things, and had given her an open invitation to "meet at the park and bitch about her boss" with she and her friends.
When the cab pulled up in front of the Bochek estate, Odessa was rather amused to see Jamie, the young woman from before, sitting on the front steps, springing to her feet when Odessa stepped out.
She sprinted over, followed by a tall man in a dark grey suit.
"Ms. Burakov!" Jamie smiled. "Welcome back!"
"Thank you, Jamie. And please, call me Odessa." Odessa couldn't help but like the little redhead. The young woman's childlike appearance and innocent, expressive eyes made her previously unused maternal instincts kick in.
The tall man behind Jamie offered Odessa his hand.
"John Katsaros." He said, his voice gruff and friendly. "I'm the Bochek's butler."
At roughly six foot six and two hundred pounds, John was built like a tank. His dark hair was speckled with grey, as was his thick, neatly trimmed beard. His olive skin was rough and lined with age, but his twinkling, dark green eyes made him seem younger.
"A pleasure." Odessa smiled.
"May I take your bags?"
"Oh. Er, certainly. Thank you."
"I'll give you a tour of the estate, as well. Can't have you getting lost." He smiled kindly at Jamie. "If you've finished the floors, you can come, as well, Jamie."
Jamie beamed, her eyes suddenly glittering.
"Finished 'em? I annihilated 'em!"
John chuckled, reaching out with his free hand to ruffle Jamie's hair.
"Allons-y, darlings!" He strode purposefully into the house. Odessa followed, bemused. Jamie brought up the rear.
"Mark, will you bring Odessa's bags to her room?" John handed the bags to the young man lingering just inside the door. "Odessa, this is my son and assistant, Mark."
Mark was much, much shorter than his father, and his hair was much longer. His face was the same though, minus the aging. Mark's demeanor, however, was completely different: While John was open and jovial, Mark seemed more withdrawn and serious. He kept his eyes on the floor, his jaw set tight.
"Hello, Mark." Odessa offered her hand, but Mark simply gave her a tight smile and marched stiffly upstairs with her bags.
"You'll have to forgive Mark." John said quietly. "He's… he's a little… different. Doesn't take kindly to people."
"Took him ages before he'd let me braid his hair." Jamie piped up.
"He only let you because you had a knife." John smirked down at Odessa. "Word of caution, Odessa: When Jamie drinks, she starts thinking she's Batman. It's… scary, but hilarious. I'll show you the videos later on."
Odessa blinked, frowning.
"Aren't you a bit young to be drinking?" she asked carefully.
Jamie giggled, her cheeks going pink.
"How old do you think I am, Ms. Odessa?"
"Eighteen? Nineteen?"
"Close. I'm twenty-two."
"…You look…"
"Twelve. I know." Jamie rolled her eyes. "I have good genes for when I'm older. For now, though, it's killing me."
John led them through the house, pointing out each room, describing its use, giving a vague description of what work was to be done in it…
The house was enormous. Mr. Bochek was clearly a top-notch surgeon. He had every luxury a man could want, as well as whatever his wife and children wanted.
By the end of the tour, Odessa was out of breath. She'd tried hard to hide her limp, but she knew they'd noticed, as John had slowed his pace and Jamie was hanging back by her.
The last stop was back in Mrs. Bochek's office, where John and Jamie left her side to return to their duties.
Instead of giving Odessa a chance to get settled, Mrs. Bochek simply shoved a box of receipts at her.
"Account information is in there. Get it balanced."
And that was that.
Odessa sighed, taking the box to her room to get started.
It was going to be a long first day.
