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We sat in silence for several minutes, each of us reflecting on what was finally said out loud.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I asked.
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
A flash of hot anger echoed in my mind. I tried to push it down, but I was sure it had shown on my face. “I could have helped. I could have done something earlier,” I argued.
I expected her to argue back- to defend her decision. To my surprise, she only nodded. “You’re right,” she agreed. “I should have.”
My face softened. My shoulders relaxed a little bit. “How long do we have?”
“Thirty days from yesterday.”
That left twenty-nine days. I had no idea where to begin.
The next morning, I woke up just after dawn. I laid out the only semi-professional outfit I owned, just in case I got lucky, and started scouring every job posting and ad I could find in the area. Most were terrible. I wasn’t averse to “terrible” necessarily, but I had very little time left to raise the money we needed. So, I had to be a little bit selective. In addition, I had to find something that started right away... that narrowed my options significantly.
I kept coming across the same variations of housecleaning jobs. I wasn’t interested in the ones looking for “topless maids” or “erotic dusting,” whatever the hell that was. I was proud of my body and had no doubt I could do the work, but the idea of letting some sweaty, overweight guy ogle me while I was cleaning his house wasn’t all that attractive to me. Not only that, but I knew what else would be expected once money changed hands. I had kept my virginity this long, I wasn’t about to give it up to some creep I met online.
So, I kept looking until one caught my eye.
Maid wanted, it read. Experience required. High pay, demanding environment. Payment up front.
It was the last part that got my attention. I could clean. I had experience doing it. Getting the payment up front was exactly what I was hoping to find. Assuming their definition of “high pay” and mine was in the same ballpark, I had a good feeling about it.
I took my time to craft a message to the man listed in the ad: a man named George Fisher. It was one of the few lessons I remembered my father teaching me- you only have one chance to make a good first impression. I took that one chance and gave it everything I had. My message was grammatically correct, well-structured, and clearly highlighted my skills and experience. It was a good introduction, and I was certain it would be received as such.
I was surprised, then, when I received a reply only a few minutes after sending it. It was simply an address and a time, and the time was just a few hours from now.
“Well, that was quick,” I said to no one in particular. “I guess that’s a good sign.”
I quickly showered and put on my “good first impression” clothes. I guess I needed them after all.
George was younger than I imagined he would be. He was impeccably-dressed in a charcoal grey suit and red tie, and he wore stylish, thick-rimmed glasses that somehow matched both his tie and his suit at the same time. The only thing that seemed out of place were his well-worn running shoes. It was a strange juxtaposition.
“You must be Ms. Kerry,” he said. His voice had laughter in it, which combined with his warm demeanor put me at ease immediately. It was a good sign.
“Please, call me Emma,” I replied, accepting his hand and shaking it softly. His hands were softer than mine. His grip, lighter.
“Emma, of course. I’m George, and we’re looking for a maid.”
“We?” I asked. I immediately scolded myself for the question. It didn’t really matter, not at this juncture, but curiosity had always been my weakness. Sometimes it got the better of me.
“My employer and I,” he replied. It wasn’t exactly an answer, but I wasn’t about to argue. “Light cleaning, mostly. Plus... um... absolute discretion is required.”
That part set off alarm bells in my head. I had seen that phrase in ad after ad- it meant that the married man didn’t want his maid to tell his wife that they were screwing. I sighed softly. As much as I needed the money, I just didn’t think I could bring myself to earn it that way. Not when I still had a little bit of time to look at other options.
“Discretion...” I repeated. “Regarding?” I was almost afraid to ask, but I didn’t want to waste either of our time if it was what I feared.
George smiled. “About what little you know about us, which isn’t much. And, more importantly, about who you’re really working for. Lucius Miller is buying up properties in the middle of Nebraska. Nebraska! They’re junk properties, but he’s buying them up at nearly double market value. We want to know why.”
“You want me to spy on him? I think you’ve got the wrong girl, I don’t know anything about business and I don’t really care what’s going on in Nebraska. I thought the ad was for a maid.” I stood to leave, but he stopped me with a waive of his hand.
“Sit down,” he said firmly. It was enough to cause me to stop. The smile and gesture that followed was enough to make me listen. “That’s exactly what it’s for, but not for us. We need someone inside. We can get you an interview to work for Miller, whether you get it or not is up to you. All we want you to do is to keep your eyes and ears open. Maybe poke around when you’re cleaning. See what you can find.”
“I really don’t think so,” I said as politely as I could. It all sounded so... sketchy. “Thank you for your time,” I said, standing once again.
“It’s your choice,” he shrugged. “But I’m sure you could use the money. It pays well.”
