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“She’s been there less than twenty-four hours. I doubt she’s lonely yet.”
“I’m sure you’re right. But women aren’t like us.”
I could ignore him, but he’s like a dog with a bone when he gets something in his head. “What about Paula? I thought that’s why we brought her up from the caves.”
“Paula,” he huffs. “I’m not sure she has the brains to be a personal maid, let alone a friend to someone like Daniela D’Sousa. She comes from a dignified family. Paula doesn’t know the difference between a soup spoon and a dessert fork. I don’t know who recommended her for the position.”
My head is starting to throb. “Let’s see how today goes.”
“The thing about women is life’s much easier when they’re happy.SenhoraDaniela doesn’t seem like someone who is so hard to make happy.”
“I’m done with this, Victor, and I strongly suggest that you be done with it too. What else is happening at the house?”
“Nothing to speak of,” he replies with a resigned sigh. Clearly he wasn’t ready to stop nagging me about Daniela. “The crew is gearing up for the planting,” he continues. “I’m preparing their breakfast now.”
When my mother’s cook Alma started working full time at my apartment at Huntsman Lodge, Victor took over the kitchen while still running the household. He loves being in control ofeverything, and he’s resisted hiring a new cook. At some point, I’m going to force the issue.
“With Daniela staying at the house, will you have time to oversee the staff and feed the crew, especially once the season is in full swing?”
“My hair is graying, but I’m not an old man,” he replies with some indignation. “Besides, Daniela doesn’t seem as though she eats very much. I can manage. Should we expect you this evening?”
I want to give her another day or two—give myself another day or two. But a part of me knows he’s right. I can’t leave her languishing forever. I need to deal with her.
There’s also another part of me that wants to see her,that burns to see her, although that part can’t be trusted to make good decisions. Not when it comes to her.
“I’ll be there by eight.”
14
Daniela
I’ve been locked in my suite for more than twenty-four hours. There’s no actual lock. I can come and go as I please. Victor made that clear when he gave me a tour of the house. But I haven’t found the gumption to venture much beyond the bed.
You need to do better if you expect to get your hands on a phone to call Isabel.
A shower might make me feel better, but I suspect there are cameras hidden in the suite, and I’m not letting them see me naked. I’ve used the toilet, because there was no choice, but each time I tented myself with a sheet so that no one watching could see anything. They know what I’m doing, but I’ll be damned if I allow them to strip me of all my dignity.
I’ve searched the room carefully, and I haven’t found any cameras.That doesn’t mean there are none. They can be difficult to find. My father was experienced at spotting a plant, but even he used trained men to sweep our house regularly for recording devices.
As I skim the room, a knock on the door startles me. I glance at the clock on the bedside table. One o’clock.Relax. It’s just Paula with lunch.
I open the door to the hall.
“Good afternoon,” she says shyly, glancing at my unkempt clothes.
“Come in. Please.”
“Victor made fresh bread to go with your soup,” she says, placing the tray on a table in the sitting room. “It’s still warm.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll straighten your bedroom and bath while you’re having lunch.”
“You don’t need to clean up after me. I’m happy to do it.”
The young maid looks confused and more than a little flustered, and I remember:This is her job.I’m her job.
None of this is her doing, and I won’t make her life more difficult. It’s not fair, and I need her help—although not with cleaning.
