Chương 2
At first she had assumed rich people simply hired others to perform ordinary tasks. Three weeks inside his house had complicated that theory. Adrian made his own coffee every morning. He carried his dishes to the kitchen. He ironed a shirt once when the housekeeper called in sick rather than asking Evelyn to do it. He knew which brand of diaper cream the babies used and could identify each daughter from behind.
But he seldom touched them.
“They quit because the work was difficult,” he said.
Evelyn waited.
His eyes met hers.
“And?”
“They had other opportunities.”
“That sounds like something Human Resources writes.”
“I don’t have a Human Resources department.”
“You should hire one.”
To her surprise, his mouth almost moved.
Not quite a smile.
Something adjacent to one.
Claire pressed her cheek into Evelyn’s chest and sighed.
Adrian looked away first.
“I’ll have my office send you the salary and terms in the morning.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No.”
“Will you?”
He glanced toward the open doorway.
Darkness filled the hallway beyond it.
“Not tonight.”
Then he left.
Evelyn stood with Claire in her arms while three sisters watched the door close behind their father.
Lucy began chewing on the crib rail.
“Okay,” Evelyn murmured. “Apparently we all have problems.”
Emma laughed.
Evelyn looked at the rabbit lying upside down on the rug.
“You’re the one who started this.”
The next morning, Evelyn found a twelve-page employment proposal in her email before her alarm went off.
She read it in bed with one eye open.
The salary made both eyes open.
She sat upright.
“No.”
Her apartment was small enough that the word seemed to bounce off everything she owned.
Her roommate, Marisol, shouted through the wall.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Then stop yelling at nothing.”
Evelyn reread the figure.
The position paid almost three times what she earned cleaning the Cole residence.
Health insurance.
Retirement contribution.
Paid vacation.
Guaranteed forty-five-hour schedule, with overtime beyond that.
A childcare training allowance.
Transportation home after late shifts.
She scrolled farther.
Confidentiality agreement.
Background screening.
Pediatric CPR certification required within thirty days.
No posting photographs of the children.
No visitors without authorization.
No discussing the family with media or online.
Those parts did not bother her much.
The final page did.
Employment could be terminated at any time under New York law, subject to the contractual severance terms described earlier.
Evelyn went back and found the severance section.
Four weeks.
She set the phone on her blanket.
Marisol appeared in the doorway wearing pajama shorts and one sock.
“You made the money face.”
“I don’t have a money face.”
“You absolutely have a money face. Your eyebrows go up and you stop blinking.”
Evelyn handed her the phone.
Marisol read silently.
Her eyebrows went up.
“Damn.”
“Exactly.”
“You’re taking it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You live in a room where the radiator sounds like somebody dragging chains through a basement.”
“That is not relevant.”
“You owe me forty-eight dollars for groceries.”
“I paid you twenty.”
“You owe me twenty-eight dollars for groceries.”
Evelyn took the phone back.
“I don’t know anything about being responsible for four babies.”
“You know more than I do.”
“That is an incredibly low standard.”
Marisol sat on the edge of the bed.
“So learn.”
Evelyn stared at the employment proposal.
She had worked for wealthy families before. Not as wealthy as Adrian Cole, but wealthy enough to have refrigerators larger than her childhood bedroom and opinions about the correct way to fold hand towels.
She had learned an important rule.
Generosity from employers could be genuine.
It could also become leverage without warning.
A Christmas bonus became a reason not to request a weekend off.
A borrowed car became an excuse for midnight errands.
A kind employer became an angry employer surprisingly fast once you reminded them that kindness did not purchase ownership of your time.
Three years earlier, Evelyn had worked for a couple in Connecticut who described her as “part of the family” until she asked to leave early for her younger brother’s graduation.
Families, she had discovered, did not generally threaten to deduct transportation costs from your paycheck.
She reopened Adrian’s message.
No personal note.
Just the contract forwarded by his executive assistant.
That irritated her more than it should have.
“He couldn’t even ask like a normal person,” she said.
Marisol lay backward across the bed.
“He probably doesn’t know how.”
“That is not charming.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
At eight forty-five, Evelyn arrived at the Cole residence wearing her maid uniform.
Adrian was in the kitchen drinking coffee.
His eyes immediately dropped to the white apron.
“You wore the uniform.”
“I noticed.”
“I thought the proposal was clear.”
“It was extremely clear.”
“And?”
“And I haven’t accepted it.”
He set down the mug.
Evelyn placed her bag on a chair.
“I asked you a question last night.”
“I remember.”
“Why did the nannies quit?”
Adrian leaned against the counter.
For a moment, he looked less like the man whose photograph appeared beside financial articles online and more like someone who had slept badly.
“The first said the schedule was too demanding.”
“Was it?”
“Yes.”
“The second?”
“She disagreed with how the household was managed.”
“That is beautifully vague.”
“She thought I interfered too much.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn folded her arms.
“The third?”
His face changed.
“She said the house was depressing.”
Evelyn had not expected that.
Adrian looked down at his coffee.
“She was probably right.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s usually not the whole answer.”
“I didn’t yell at her, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were.”
Evelyn considered denying it.
She did not.
Adrian rubbed his thumb once along the rim of the mug.
“I had rules.”
“What kind?”
“Schedules. Noise. Visitors. The girls’ routine.”
“How many rules?”
He did not answer quickly enough.
Evelyn sighed.
“Mr. Cole.”
“Quite a few.”
“Were the babies allowed to laugh?”
May you like
His eyes lifted.
It was meant as a joke.
