As I take the stairs to the kitchen, I hear some laughter and stop to look out the open window on the second-floor landing. There are several people—staff—milling around and having lunch, or a cigarette break. Paula’s there, too, sitting on the tailgate of a truck bed. Her feet are dangling as though she doesn’t have a care in the world, laughing with a young man about her age.
It reminds me a little of the dinner breaks we took at my night job. We would gather outdoors when it was warm, relaxing for thirty minutes before it was time to go back to mopping and scrubbing. I won’t miss the work, but I’ll miss my colleagues and the shared camaraderie.
As I continue down the stairs, I can’t stop thinking about the people outside.
This place feels so formal, not just the decor, but there’s a stodgy air about it. A stark contrast to the playfulness outside.
Victor has run a household for ages. He’s polished, but there’s also a bit of fun about him. Everyone else I’ve encountered who works in the house, including Paula, is reserved and cautious. Maybe it’s just around Antonio—and me.
“Bom dia,senhora,” Victor says brightly, as I enter the kitchen. “You’re looking well.”
“Bom dia, Victor.”
“Where would you like to have your coffee? The breakfast room is normally what I’d recommend, but it’s being painted.”
“Would you mind if I had lunch in here?”
“Mind? It would be a pleasure,” he says, motioning for me to have a seat at an elegant quartz counter with a thick beveled edge.
“I’m so sorry about dinner last night.” I apologize as he places a small vase of flowers to my left. When I glance at his face, there are no dark circles under his eyes, or any other sign of missed sleep, which makes me somewhat relieved.But still.“I ruined your evening and made you work much later than necessary.”
“Nonsense.” He waves his hand, dismissing my concerns. “I enjoy a little life around here. Now that Rafael’s away studying, the house is quiet, like a mausoleum with so many lovely things to look at, but not much of a soul.”
Soulless. That sounds about right.
“On my way downstairs, I noticed that there were picnic tables and a couple of trucks outside. The staff were having lunch and seemed to be enjoying themselves.”
He tips his head to the side. “Right below the staircase on the second floor?”
I nod. “Yes.”
Victor grins and shakes his head. “As soon as the weather permits, they’re outside every day. Young fools. Although not all of them are so young,” he says, smiling wistfully. “But they’re all foolish.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Start with this,” Victor says, setting down a plate of melon slices, strawberries, and fresh cheese. “It’s light and will prepare your stomach for something heavier.”
“Thank you.” I glance at him before taking a sip of coffee. “Are you going to tell me why they’re foolish?”
“There’s no surveillance in that small area. That’s why they’re huddled together.”
My heart stops. I place the cup back on its saucer, with a small tremor in my hand. “They think there’s no surveillance, or there isn’t?”I have to know.
He shakes his head. “There isn’t. But it wasn’t an oversight, like they imagine. When the spy lived here, he set up the security system that way. In an emergency, even if the system was breached from the outside, he could escape the property undetected. When Antonio bought the house, he left it that way on purpose.”
Complex exit strategies that ensure safety are the price one pays for a glamorous life and unchecked power. “I guess when you have a lot of enemies, being able to leave under the cover of night is a good thing.”
Victor chuckles. “You’re a breath of fresh air. And just the woman Antonio needs in his life. I hope you’ll stay awhile.”
A sense of sadness creeps into my soul. Nothing to do with Antonio. I hate misleading Victor.There’s no other way.
“Powerful men have formidable enemies,” Victor continues. “But that’s not why he left the area without cameras, and unguarded. Antonio grew up surrounded by a large household staff. He played with the children—Cristiano and Lucas are still his closest friends. His mother is very dignified, like yours was—she’s always been that way. But Lydia Huntsman ran a warm, informal house. The boundaries between staff and the family were lax unless her husband was there. Antonio’s father was more formal, more exacting, unforgiving.” Victor’s voice trails away.
I suspect he didn’t have much affection for Hugo Huntsman.Not difficult to imagine.
“Antonio favors his mother,” he continues. “He has his moments, as we all do, but by and large he treats the staff as though we’re human, with human needs and dreams. When Rafael was living here, this”—he waves his arm around the room—“had the pulse of a home. Antonio insisted on it.”
Victor freshens my coffee and places the pot back on the stove. “But even now, he’s generous and fair, although he’d be upset if he knew I mentioned it. That area, outside, is where staff can have a smoke, share a kiss, or just laugh without the fear of being watched and judged. But to think that Antonio doesn’t know about the lack of surveillance is simply ridiculous.”