The Billionaire’s Housekeeper

“I won’t,” Rita said. She straightened her body and smiled. Whatever this was was going to pass. But it still made her wonder and worry just what it was that the press thought they knew about her.

“I’ve got to get going. I should have been at work by now. Don’t talk to anyone until I get back. And even then…” George said. He turned to leave the mansion. He left Rita and Jose standing close to the entrance. Neither of them spoke for a good few minutes.

“Alright missy, you have some explaining to do,” Jose said finally. He pursed his lips in the way that he did when he wasn’t impressed by a situation. He eyed her up and down, folded his arms over his chest and tapped his foot on the floor as if to wait for her to start speaking right away.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Rita raised her head in a defiant manner.

“Oh cut the crap, Marguerite!”

“Only my mother calls me that,” Rita grumbled. Whenever Jose was frustrated with her he called her by her full name.

“You’re stalling. How can I help you if you won’t open up to me?” Jose feigned hurt and he pouted his lip dramatically.

“What exactly am I getting help for?” Rita laughed. Jose was right, she was stalling. But she didn’t know where to start or where to end. She didn’t know if he would understand. She had known him for three years, and there was definitely trust there when it came to their friendship. She just wasn’t sure she liked opening up to people. She didn’t know how he would react.

“I don’t know yet!” Jose admitted. “But someone out there knows something. I don’t want them defaming your character. You’re one of my favorite people on this hellhole we call planet earth. The least you can do is dish out some juicy gossip.”

Rita sighed. There would be no letting up with Jose. She studied his face for a few seconds. She had held out for this long. But if something were to happen, she needed someone here who she trusted and who really cared for her to be on her side. She didn’t know what could happen if someone were to know all of her story…worse if word got out to the police.

She decided to tell him. She wasn’t going to tell the full story. She was going to keep it as vague as possible. She wanted him to be satisfied enough to leave her alone, but to be in the know about what it was that she was dealing with.

“Fine. I’ll tell you,” she caved.

“Wunderbar! Is it about George? Are you sure you guys aren’t a thing? I kind of like the way you look together. Your chocolate with his vanilla, you guys would be…”

“Jose! Focus! I’m about to let you into a very dark part of my past. It’s not…It’s not about Mr. Ainsworth. Even he doesn’t know what I’m about to tell you. I’ll tell you my secret. Just not here.”

Rita linked arms with Jose, and she led him back out onto the lanai around the back of the mansion. She wanted to make sure she was away from any listening ears.

*****

Rita had spent most of her day distracting herself with work. She was so diligent that she was finished earlier than usual and even went around clearing up some of the rooms twice.

She avoided the windows. If she walked into a room she would shimmy along up against the wall like a novice spy and close the curtains. She knew there were still paparazzi outside. The number of them had almost tripled as the day went on. She would peek through the curtains whenever she was curious enough.

By 5, the majority of them had given up and left. The sun had started to set when the last one had finally gone home. The guards didn’t entertain them, and no one let them in under any circumstances.

It was strange for Rita. Before, whenever there was press outside of the door she would be able to go about her business without so much as batting an eyelash in their direction. The minute one mentioned her name, now it felt like there were eyes everywhere, watching her. She didn’t like that feeling. She wanted everything to go back to normal. So much had changed with her work, herself, and Mr. Ainsworth since the divorce came through.

Rita went outside and back to her little cottage that was close to the back of the property. It wasn’t too far from the main house, but it was down a trail and out of sight. The cottage had its own unique style. It felt like a house not on someone’s grounds, but a quaint little home for a couple, or a young and hopeful person. Julie helped design it when Rita had first come to work for the Ainsworth’s. Julie was a little less insufferable then. She asked Rita for her opinions and her tastes with the decor, and the cottage was done to both of their liking. Over time, and with more wine and self-loathing, Julie didn’t talk to Rita much anymore. Rita had just become another person to manipulate in order for Julie to get her way.

Rita sighed when she stepped into her cottage. She didn’t want to think of Julie or George anymore. She sometimes had to remind herself that their lives were not her whole life. With the day she had had, Rita just wanted to relax. She told Jose more about herself before she had left Montreal, and Jose vowed not to tell anyone. He also said that he would find a way to help her if she ever needed it, and let her know that everything would work itself out.

She was so grateful for her friend. She wasn’t alone in the world, but she felt alone in the country. Jose made her feel more at home since they had met, and Thursdays were definitely her favorite days because she knew that he would be there at the house tending to the roses and marigolds.

There was one more person that Rita wanted to talk to about the day that she had. Her mother, Aurelie Brooks. Her mother was her confidant. Aurelie was the most supportive person in Rita’s life. They spoke at least twice a week, and Aurelie knew about Rita’s life as if Rita was still in Montreal with her.

Rita picked up the little white telephone that was on the side table in her living room. She dialed her mother’s number and placed the phone between her ear and her shoulder. She was fixing herself a sandwich in her little kitchen as the phone buzzed in her ear.

Aurelie picked up on the 4^th ring.

“Bonne nuit, maman,” Rita greeted her mother.

“Hello my darling!” Rita could hear the smile in her mother’s voice. Aurelie always sounded like Rita hadn’t spoken to her for years, even if Rita had called once before on that very same day.

“How are you? What was your day like?”

They always asked each other about their days and if anything interesting happened. Rita’s mother was an English teacher at a middle school in Montreal, so there was always a story about some rowdy teenager, or the politics of being one of the head teachers at the school versus the other teachers or a member of the board of directors. Rita mostly talked about her work, or something that Jose had told her. She was so glad to be still close with her mother. Aurelie was the only one that Rita could really talk to about the things she had in her head and her heart.

“My day…” Rita paused to give it thought. “My day was ok.”