Quincy parks and opens the door for Magda first, then for me. While I’m stretching my stiff leg, he lets Valentina out and hovers with her purse and travel bag in front of the fountain.
“I’ll take that.” I grab her possessions and grip her arm to lead her up the porch steps. My fingers overlap the small diameter of her upper arm. This is the point where I expect her to kick in her heels and scream, but she remains eerily calm.
Magda overtakes us on the stairs. “One wrong move, one wrong word to anyone, and Charlie is dead. Get that?”
Valentina tilts her head away from my mother, a tremor running through her body.
Marie, our faithful old cook, opens the door. Her face freezes when her eyes land on the young woman.
“Prepare the maid’s room,” Magda says. “I’ll brief you later.” She enters ahead of us. “Gabriel, bring the girl to my study.”
Before I can argue, Magda is gone. Marie’s gaze remains fixed on the woman at my side. May as well get the introduction over with.
“This is Valentina,” I say. “She’s property.”
Marie nods as if I bring property home every day, but she understands. She’s been around the block. She scurries away without offering me my usual drink.
I steer Valentina to my mother’s study and close the door. Whatever Magda is cooking up, I already don’t like it. The sight of my mother’s personal bodyguard, Scott, standing behind her chair with a pistol clutched in his hand makes me rest my hand on my own weapon tucked into my waistband. The threat is clear. Defy Magda and Valentina will end up like her dog––with a bullet between her soft, mud-brown eyes.
Magda addresses my tiny charge. “I understand you’ll be working for us.” She points at the chair facing her desk. “Sit.”
I let Valentina go. She obeys, balancing on the edge of the seat. Mirroring Scott’s stance, I remain standing, just in case.
“What are your skills?” Magda asks.
Valentina’s lashes flutter as she lifts her eyes to me. They’re big for her small face and hauntingly sad, but proud, also.
“Answer when you’re being spoken to,” Magda says in the headmistress voice she reserved for chastising me as a kid.
“I’m an assistant.”
Magda’s mouth pulls down. “That’s it?”
“I also cook and clean for my neighbor.”
Magda taps her fingernails on the desktop. After some time, she says, “You’ll work for us as a maid and whatever else Gabriel expects from you.” My mother gives me an acidic look, as if the sight of me gives her indigestion. “You’ll work Monday to Friday until dinner’s been served and the kitchen is clean. On Saturday, you’re off from five in the afternoon. You’re expected back by eight on Monday morning. If we have events at home, we expect you to work, regardless of afterhours.”
The maid idea pisses me off, but the leisure time unleashes a rage in me, not that I have any ground to stand on. It’s Magda’s business and her debt to collect. I’m only the dealmaker. My new toy better not try to escape. I bet that’s what Magda is bargaining on. It’ll give her the reason she wants to eliminate Valentina and terminate my idiotic deal, as she put it.
“You’ll keep the house tidy,” Magda continues, “and with tidy I mean spotless. Everything on the inside of the building is your responsibility, except for the cooking. Marie takes care of that. If I need you to cook, I’ll tell you. If you poison any one of us, you and your brother will die slow and painful deaths. Understand?”
Her throat moves as she swallows. “Yes.”
“Yes, Mrs. Louw or ma’am.”
Those dark eyes flash with defiance, but she averts them quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”
“If you fail in any of your tasks, the deal’s off, and you’re dead.” A sardonic light sparks in Magda’s eyes. “Work well for…” She looks at me and waits.
“Nine years,” I fill in.
“Work well for nine years,” Magda continues, “and Charlie’s debt will be paid off. We won’t pay you a salary. The money we would’ve given you will go toward the settlement of your debt. I don’t allow servants to eat from our table, but you may use the kitchen facilities to prepare your meals. Since you won’t earn cash, my son will pay you an allowance for food and personal commodities. Any questions?”
“Is there a routine I need to follow? What do I do, exactly?”
Magda gets to her feet. “You’ll figure it out. You start immediately.”
Valentina follows Magda’s lead, getting up from her chair with consternation on her face.
Before she goes, there’s one thing she needs to understand. I grab her face in one hand, digging my fingers into her cheeks. “Run from me and you’ll wish I shot you today.”
Her body is close to mine, and I can smell her scent. I fill the olfactory gap I couldn’t place in the car. Raspberry. She looks like a dove with her wings tied, but she doesn’t falter under my stare.