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in his bed, just before he fell asleep.
After donning shoes he’d polished the night before, Finch made his way to the main kitchen to
see how Hugh’s breakfast was coming along. He wasn’t pleased to hear raised voices coming
from Cook’s domain.
“Bitch!” That was Bella, one of the maids and a former member of the Pedigree. She’d aged
out three years ago and was still trying to figure out her life and what she wanted from it. So
far, she hadn’t made much progress.
“Whore!” And that was Emma, the cook and reigning dictator of the kitchen and pantry.
“Emma, maybe you should leave the poor girl alone,” said George, Emma’s husband and
Hugh’s chauffeur. The two of them were betas with two beta sons. No Pedigree for them.
Finch stepped into the room and it fell silent, the only sound the faint echo of Bella’s aborted
shriek. “What, precisely, is going on?” he asked, not needing to raise his voice.
Bella pouted. “She started it.” She pointed her thumb at Emma.
Self-consciously, Emma patted her tight gray bun. “I was only trying to instruct the girl, Finch.
You know how she is.”
“Instruct me, my ass. You’re just mad I went on a date with Javier last night.”
Finch sighed, sorting out the mess in his head. Javier was the groundskeeper, and he
pretended to be straight, but was actually bi. Emma and George’s eldest son had been trying
to date him for years with no success. That Bella had scored a date with the handsome man
probably was grating to Emma, who doted on her sons. Meanwhile, Javier and Gabriel, the
pool boy and assistant groundskeeper, had been carrying on an affair for several months in
secret. It was all very sordid and messy, two of Finch’s least favorite things.
“Emma, you aren’t the girl’s mother. Leave her personal life alone,” he said. “Bella, be careful
when you date the staff. There isn’t always a happy ending like there was for Emma and
George. Emma, where is Mr. Drake’s breakfast? Bella, I believe there is dusting that needs
doing in the east wing. George, we might need to use the car soon. Please make sure it’s fully
tuned up. And I will be displeased if I hear any further shouting. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Finch.” They didn’t say it in unison, but it was a near thing.
“Good. Don’t let me keep you.”
Bella and George scurried off in separate directions. Emma turned back to her stove. “Mr.
