“Remember, Lucinda, Pregnant lady cravings,” he laughed as he went to the projection room, told you more a theater than a T.V room “Movies, all kinds of them; these must be updated as well,” I just nodded and went on the tour around the mansion.
Once the grand tour was over we went back to the library and sat down. Patrick had his business face on. It was the same face he had when I first met him in New York, a bit less stressed but still business like.
“Lucinda,” he began, as always making my name sound much cooler than what it was, “On Monday you are going to sign two contracts. One is the confidentiality agreement and the other one is the one every employee signs in the company,” I just nodded, I knew the drill, I had given the drill several times but this drill didn’t stop there, “Trust is what I want to talk about right now.” He was on the chair next to me and he turned it so he was looking directly at me. He leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees and looked directly into my eyes with such an intensity that I knew that what he was about to say was pretty important, “I think you know the importance of trust between boss and assistant,” I nodded. I knew, sometimes you trust them with most important aspects in your life. “For me trust, loyalty and discretion are the most important qualities I look for in an assistant, everything else is just a plus. My life is always in the public eye; for one thing or another I am always out there and I can’t afford to have an assistant who likes to gossip or lets intimate facts slip out. I need someone I can trust more than I trust my own mother, more than I trust myself, because, Lucinda, sometimes you will have to save me from myself. Do you understand that?” Wow! Where was the laid back, chocolate snack eating Patrick I was talking to? He meant business with this and I needed him to understand that I was completely on board.
“I understand. If there’s one thing you are going to get from me from the beginning is loyalty. I’ve been loyal to all my bosses and I don’t intend to change that. You can rest assured that I will be the best personal assistant I can be and no one ever will hear anything from me. I respect privacy as much as you do.” I said trying to sound completely honest without too much ass kissing.
He held the hand I had on my knee and smiled, he seemed pleased with what I said, “I know you will,” he let go of my hand and then his face went back to the relaxed one I’ve seen today.
“I am going to get ready for the gala. Tonight I will be attending alone but for the next ones you will have to go with me, most of the time I forget who is who and what am I doing there,” he let out a small laugh and stretched his arms. Yes, we both were tired, we had gone through a lot of information and now he had to go an awful event. I was thankful that I was allowed to stay for the night.
“I need you to check with Ms. Owens if my tux is ready and everything I am supposed to wear. I am going to go for a few laps on the pool to relax and then I’ll get ready. That should give you enough time to go over my clothes,” I nodded and he got up from the chair and put his hand on my shoulder “I’m glad we will be working together. “He smiled and then I watch him walk away.
I immediately ran to catch Ms. Owens in the laundry room “Ms. Owens! I was told to check on Patrick’s clothes for tonight. How do I do that?” of course I wanted to panic, although panicking rarely became a part of my coping mechanisms, this time I let myself feel a bit of panic. How was I supposed to arrange the clothes of a stranger? Did he like something in particular?
“Ok, dear. Let’s go through this.”Ms. Owens talked to me in a very calming and soothing voice that didn’thing to me but I pretended that it did. “First call me Miranda, we’ll be working together so many hours the least we could do is become friends,” Oh! Everyone in here was like let’s-be-so -informal-that-we-forget-we-are-working.
“Now, Patrick is attending a gala tonight so it means he needs his tux, shirt, gala shoes, and socks,” I nodded furiously as I wrote everything down on my notepad.
“Miranda, am I checking his underwear as well?” I was afraid of that but, seriously, if he didn’t know what kind of snacks he liked, was he even aware that underwear was bought?
“Well, dear, you will eventually, fortunately right now he is all set in that department. Here,” she said motioning me to go to a walk in closet in the middle of the laundry room “His tux, dry cleaned. The shirt is under there as well as the bow tie.” I took the tux by the hanger “His gala shoes, he has two pairs, he loves having two pairs but he always wear the pair that has written on the sole a tiny 1 in red ink. It’s really, really, tiny but that’s the pair that don’t make him walk like a duck. They hurt him.” I kept on writing not even bothering to question anything Miranda was saying “Now, dear, he doesn’t know that he only wears the ones with the number 1 on the sole, he thinks that we take turns with the shoes we put out for him,” she sighed. “You will have to replace the ones he wears when they begin to look worn because then he’ll notice. We do this because it doesn’t matter how much his feet hurt he will always want to wear the other shoes. The other shoes were a gift from his grandmother and they mean a lot to him. We are just taking care of his feelings.” I nodded. Miranda loved him, I was pretty sure she had been around for a long time. The shoes business was important, and I was to be in charge of replacing the shoes.
“Miranda,” I said as I could almost see a bulb lighting up above my head “What about the other shoes? They won’t ever look worn, shouldn’t we make the soles a bit worn at least,” I said in a serious tone. God, was I taking this seriously? I was! Well, it was my job; I had to be perfect at it.
“Oh, Lucinda! You are right,” she said taking her hand to her mouth “We never thought about that,” I assumed that “we,” were her and the other assistants. Poor souls, what they had to go through to finally know what Patrick wanted.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said writing it down on the pad, “And you can call me Lucy,” I told her smiling.
“Now, about the socks, Lucy…,” and she began telling me all about them. Those I had to pick for him apparently as much as he had a great style and picked beautiful clothes when it came to socks Patrick Maynard didn’t have a clue whether they were nice socks, plain socks or horrible socks.
With all the information I could get and the tux by the hanger I ran towards Patrick bedroom. Miranda had already told me where to lay his outfit for the night and how. I hung his tux on his walk in closet without the plastic back that covered it. It had to be next to the underwear drawer and with the bowtie hanging from the hanger.
I found myself on my knees looking for his gala shoes, I found them at the very back probably because that way he would never had the need to inspect them and find out about how Miranda was guarding his feelings by letting him believe that he was wearing the shoes his grandma gave him. How old was he, anyway? I took the shoes in my hands and it was clear which were the ones that his grandma gave him. They seemed barely worn and the others had a few more scratches on the sole plus the tiny number 1 in red ink. I put them on the floor next to his bed with the chosen socks inside of them. That was it; at least I thought so, so I took a last look at the room. It was a nice room. Immense, but nice. Ivory, gray and black. A four poster bed that I tried to avoid at all costs; he had already let me know he was not a prude. God knew what that meant. The ivory carpet under my feet felt like walking on clouds and I was pretty sure there had to be a great tub on his bathroom. I didn’t wander off to the bathroom that was not polite and it was unnecessary. The thought of a tub made me promise myself that at least that night I was going to take advantage of the one I had at the pool house. I walked out of the room as Patrick was going up the stairs he was wearing his bathing suit and was drying his hair with a towel.
“Everything’s set,” I said.
“Great,” he said smiling “I already sent you tomorrow’s schedule, I’ll be off as soon as I am ready so I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow,”
“Sure! Have a great night,” I said walking towards the stairs “I’ll try,” he said walkin
g towards his room.
As I was walking down the stairs I found Miranda at the bottom smiling up at me “Everything ok?” she asked. I nodded “Marvelous,” she said and went on “want to have something for dinner? I am making quick lasagna,” I gave her a smile and nodded skipping down the steps. There is nothing quick about lasagna, I thought, but I was starving and a home cooked meal sounded heavenly. As soon as I step into the kitchen the smell of lasagna invaded my lungs.
“That smells delicious,” I said as I sat next to a redheaded girl on a stool by the kitchen counter. “Hi, I’m Lucy,” I said extending my hand.
“Sarah,” she said in a shy tone. Sarah, Sarah I tried to go through all the names I’ve learned today and all the names I’ve read on the employees list. She was a maid, a beautiful maid at that. Did she clean all by herself in here? Poor girl! No wonder she was that skinny, she needed the lasagna more than I did!
“So, Lucy, how was your first day?” asked Miranda pouring a glass of lemonade in front of me.
I took a huge sip from it, “Oh God, this is so good,” I said as I took another sip. Miranda smiled at me as I put the glass down on the counter “I had a good first day. Patrick seems to have very specific needs and it seems I will be running around a lot before I figure out a schedule for myself, but it was a great first day,” I nodded.
Miranda looked at me, seemingly analyzing me, “Were your other bosses this picky?” she asked and I shook my head while gulping down the rest of the most delicious lemonade I’ve ever had.
I heard and intake of breath coming from both Sarah and Miranda and I looked at both of them with a worried look, “What?” I asked almost in my defense.
“It’s just that his last assistant used to be Kim Kardashian's assistant and she didn't last a month,” said Sarah looking down at her fumbling hands. She was already feeling sorry for me.
“Wait… Kim Kardashian’s assistant was managing Patrick’s staff?” I asked not believing the nerve of some people. It offended me in a deep level that anyone thought they could have HR skills.
“Well she tried,” said Miranda shaking her head “she was a disaster! Business and Hollywood are different worlds.”
“I know!” I said nodding furiously.
“So, Lucy, if you need our help with the staff let us know,” Miranda said winking at me and I smiled at her, she seemed so nice. “Dinner is ready,” she said as she pulled out of the oven the most gorgeous, drool deserving lasagna I’ve ever eaten. Miranda’s quick Lasagna was anything but quick or simple, it was a God sent dinner. Yes, I loved it that much. The three of us had dinner while talking about everything and anything; they told me everything about Patrick’s past assistants and how, sometimes, he drove them crazy and I laughed so much my ribs hurt. It was great to have someone to have dinner with. Sarah had an amazing sense of humor once she got over her shyness. First day, first lunch, first dinner…. All great. I could really get used to that.
I helped the girls clean up and went to the pool house to keep my promise of having a bath. I opened a bottle of red wine I found on my fridge, grabbed a glass and went directly to the bathroom. I let the water run on the tub while arranging my toiletries and bath robe around in the bathroom. I got in the tub once it was full and went through the following day’s schedule. Seems there was nothing big; Golf with a big client, which meant I had to walk behind Patrick all day long, other than that nothing seemed to be scheduled. Thank God. I finished my glass of wine and stepped out of the tub, wrapped myself in my purple robe and went into my bedroom. I changed into my flannel pjs and picked up my personal phone. I had left it on my room and I had 3 missed calls from Nicholas and one text message. He, obviously, had the day off. I climbed on the double bed that was against the wall and let my head rest on the blue throw pillows while I phoned Nick.
”How was it, Sugar?,” He never said hello, never, ever; he went straight into conversation,”Good, weird but good,” I said enjoying the mattress, that felt more comfortable than ever.
“How is he?” he asked.
“Patrick Maynard?” I ask and I almost felt Nick nodding on the other end “Yes,” he said.
“Well, I was impressed to see he is laid back! When it’s business time he puts his business face on but in general he is nice. He jokes around and he asked me to call him Patrick,” I said while pouring a second glass of wine, the last one, tomorrow I was working. I was working everyday, who was I kidding?
“So you are home now?” Nick asked he wanted to hang out.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you,” I had completely forgotten that Nicholas didn’t know my living arrangements “I am living here now,”
“Here where?” he asked confused.
“Patrick’s house. Well, not IN his house, I stay at his pool house,” I shrugged as if he could see me “What?” he asked “That’s crazy! You are going to be one of those assistants that walk behind his boss all day long, making phone calls for him and arranging for a catering service to deliver his dinner at home?” He meant it as a joke but I knew better “I am going to be exactly that. I had to arrange his clothes for an event tonight,” and surprisingly I didn’t feel bad about it. I was content with my first day.
“Oh. My. God. Sugar, I can’t even picture you obeying orders and running around. That’s a sight I’d pay to see,” I laughed out loud because he definitely would pay for that and he went on telling me about where he was flying to on Monday. I hung up with him and decided that I was going to take advantage of the chance of going to bed at a decent hour so I slipped in between the sheets and went to sleep in the most comfy bed I’d ever slept on.
I heard in the distance a phone ringing. I put my head under the pillow and the phone kept ringing. I reached out to my night table and felt unfamiliar, threw the pillow out of my face and I realized I was in the pool house, I had forgotten. I suddenly realized as well that the phone ringing was my work phone, I took it and saw Patrick’s name on it, and I couldn’t help to see that it was 2 in the morning. “Shit,” I said as I hit the answer button
“Hello,” I tried not to sound too sleepy although at 2 in the morning I believed it was expected from me to feel that way.
“Lucinda, could you make me a Sandwich, please?” I rolled my eyes at his request.
“Sure, be there in a second,” I said as I climbed down the bed “Thanks, you are a doll,” he hung up.
I walked to the mirror in the room trying to do something to my hair; I just put it up in a messy bun that only resembled to stack of hay, put my slippers on and brushed my teeth.
As I walked into the kitchen I saw Patrick on a stool by the breakfast counter. He was still wearing his tux and had the bow tie undone hanging on his neck, he looked up and smiled.
“Pregnant lady cravings,” I half smiled still groggy from my interrupted sleep. He snorted and nodded. “What kind of sandwich?” I asked leaning on the counter by the sink.
“The one my aunt Magda makes,” I looked at him in disbelief.
“You are kidding, right? You don’t want me to phone your aunt right now, do you?” I was sure my eyes were about to bulge out of my eyes.
“No,” he laughed out loud, he looked tired, his green eyes sleepy and his hair was a mess “Ms. Owens keeps a binder somewhere up there,” he pointed to some cabinets, “with the recipes of things I like.” I let out a sigh of relief and went on searching for the blessed binder and sure there it was. A big fat blue binder with lots of document dividers. I looked through all of them: pasta, cereal (what the hell?) pancakes, cakes, drinks, etc… I opened the sandwiches tab and found, “Aunt Magda,” sandwich. Miranda was a saint. The sandwich didn’t seem too complicated, regular white breath, cheddar cheese, bologna, mayo, tomato and olives. No crust. So I began to dig for the ingredients in the fridge and placing them on the breakfast counter in front of Patrick.
“I bet you didn’t picture yourself working at 2 am on a Saturday night/Sunday Morning,” he said looking at me while I worked on his sandwi
ch.
“I would probably be working over some spreadsheets anyway. It’s just a different kind of job,” I smiled. “Drink?” I asked.
“OJ,” he said and I poured some in a glass for him, “So, you were not joking when you said to me in your interview that you had no life,” I laughed at his honesty.
“No, I was not joking,” I said cutting tomato slices and smiled at him.
“Why?” he said all serious.
“Why was I not joking? Well, I don’t have the best sense of humor, plus it was a job interview,” I placed the tomato slices on the sandwich.
“No, I meant, what made you want to change your life. Oh, by the way, you have a great sense of humor,” He grabbed the sandwich I placed in front of him and looked at me waiting for an answer.
“Well, thanks for the sense of humor opinion,” I awkwardly smiled “And I changed my life because fish die,” I just shrugged.
“Yeah, and you eat them so?” he said finally giving a bite to his sandwich “Oh! Delicious! Just like my aunt’s. Make yourself one, join me,” he looked like a child.
“I’m good,” I said while pouring some OJ for me.
“So, fish die and you eat them….” Said Patrick while savoring his sandwich.
“Yeah, life changes, I needed a change,” that’s all I wanted to say and Patrick didn’t push it. I felt the need to have a new subject
“How was the gala?” I had a sip of OJ.
“Oh, boring, the food was crap, Lucinda!” he dropped his sandwich on the plate and began explaining how the caviar was horrible and the servings so small that left him chewing on his own arm.
“I hate caviar,” I said making a disgusted face.
“Oh! I do too, I was really waiting for some kind of steak in a weird presentation, you know?” he tried to show me with his hands how he thought it would look.“Or at least fish! Salmon would have been amazing,”
“Oh My God Patrick, you know what Salmon looks like?” I asked in mocked shock.
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