I
probably would never see her again and gave her a tight hug good-bye. I
liked Anna and wished too late that I’d gotten to know her better, but as
usual, there just never seemed to be enough time. I hastily stuffed my
folded uniform into my bag, checked to make sure I had all the notes and books
I needed to work on my last paper, and with one last wave to Anna, headed
downstairs to wait for Mr. Hunter.
It wasn't long before I saw his car approaching and he pulled up
to the curb in front of me. I started to reach for the door, but he made
a gesture that I should wait for him. He put the car in park, and got
out; coming around, he put my book bag and laptop into the back seat and then
opened my door for me.
“That's really not necessary, Mr. Hunter.”
“Indulge me. I get very few opportunities to practice my
manners.”
“One wouldn't know it. They're impeccable.”
“Thank you.” He ushered me into my seat and closed the door
behind me.
Once we were on the road, he asked me how things were going.
“Great. I got another paper finished this morning and
survived an oral presentation. Now I just have the big one that I hope to
finish tonight, and then I’m done.”
“Good. Listen, as far as today goes, I’m just dropping you
off at the house now, as I have an appointment shortly. I’ll be back a
little later than usual, probably around four, and like I said, I’ll bring home
something for dinner.”
“Okay.”
“And don't worry about cleaning the windows in my office
today. They won’t be opaque with filth if you skip a week.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.”
“No problem.”
Shortly thereafter we pulled up to the house. Leaving the
engine running, he got out and opened my door, then carried my things into the
kitchen for me. I started unpacking while he helped himself to a glass of
water. My uniform came out of the bag first as I’d packed it on top.
“Where did you put your other one?” He asked, gesturing to the
dress.
“I hung it up in the utility closet.”
“And where do you change?”
“In the powder room near the living room.”
“From now on you can use one of the guest rooms to get changed and
keep the spare in the closet. Pick any room you like.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Miss Lane, even though I’ll be gone most the afternoon,
please change right away.”
“Yes, sir.”
He nodded and was gone.
The guest room I chose was two doors down from Mr. Hunter’s room
on the same side of the hallway. I’d liked this room the first time I saw
it. The walls were a soft green and as it faced the front of the house,
it had that same bank of imposing windows. The bed and matching furniture
were a deep brown wood, the bedspread and curtains a solid green velvet darker
than the walls. What I liked best about the room, however, was the
painting that hung above the headboard. While the rest of the room was
done in soothing greens, the painting was an explosion of vibrant oranges,
another original abstract that seemed to leap off the wall with energy.
Like the Rothko downstairs, this painting also pulled me in and I could have
stared at it for hours.
Maybe Mr. Hunter is trying to hypnotize me with his paintings, I
laughed to myself as I changed into my uniform. I left my clothes neatly
folded on the bed and decided to get to work on the office before tackling my
paper. Not having to do the windows meant I was done in practically no
time at all. For a writer, Mr. Hunter was extraordinarily tidy. His
desk was spotless. I wondered if he put things away before I came and I
was tempted to peek into a drawer or two, but restrained myself.
Something told me snooping was sure way to incur my boss’s wrath.
My chores done until Mr. Hunter returned with groceries, I was
setting up my computer and notes at the kitchen island when my stomach growled
loudly. The toast I’d had hours ago had worn off, obviously, and my body
was ready
probably would never see her again and gave her a tight hug good-bye. I
liked Anna and wished too late that I’d gotten to know her better, but as
usual, there just never seemed to be enough time. I hastily stuffed my
folded uniform into my bag, checked to make sure I had all the notes and books
I needed to work on my last paper, and with one last wave to Anna, headed
downstairs to wait for Mr. Hunter.
It wasn't long before I saw his car approaching and he pulled up
to the curb in front of me. I started to reach for the door, but he made
a gesture that I should wait for him. He put the car in park, and got
out; coming around, he put my book bag and laptop into the back seat and then
opened my door for me.
“That's really not necessary, Mr. Hunter.”
“Indulge me. I get very few opportunities to practice my
manners.”
“One wouldn't know it. They're impeccable.”
“Thank you.” He ushered me into my seat and closed the door
behind me.
Once we were on the road, he asked me how things were going.
“Great. I got another paper finished this morning and
survived an oral presentation. Now I just have the big one that I hope to
finish tonight, and then I’m done.”
“Good. Listen, as far as today goes, I’m just dropping you
off at the house now, as I have an appointment shortly. I’ll be back a
little later than usual, probably around four, and like I said, I’ll bring home
something for dinner.”
“Okay.”
“And don't worry about cleaning the windows in my office
today. They won’t be opaque with filth if you skip a week.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.”
“No problem.”
Shortly thereafter we pulled up to the house. Leaving the
engine running, he got out and opened my door, then carried my things into the
kitchen for me. I started unpacking while he helped himself to a glass of
water. My uniform came out of the bag first as I’d packed it on top.
“Where did you put your other one?” He asked, gesturing to the
dress.
“I hung it up in the utility closet.”
“And where do you change?”
“In the powder room near the living room.”
“From now on you can use one of the guest rooms to get changed and
keep the spare in the closet. Pick any room you like.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Miss Lane, even though I’ll be gone most the afternoon,
please change right away.”
“Yes, sir.”
He nodded and was gone.
The guest room I chose was two doors down from Mr. Hunter’s room
on the same side of the hallway. I’d liked this room the first time I saw
it. The walls were a soft green and as it faced the front of the house,
it had that same bank of imposing windows. The bed and matching furniture
were a deep brown wood, the bedspread and curtains a solid green velvet darker
than the walls. What I liked best about the room, however, was the
painting that hung above the headboard. While the rest of the room was
done in soothing greens, the painting was an explosion of vibrant oranges,
another original abstract that seemed to leap off the wall with energy.
Like the Rothko downstairs, this painting also pulled me in and I could have
stared at it for hours.
Maybe Mr. Hunter is trying to hypnotize me with his paintings, I
laughed to myself as I changed into my uniform. I left my clothes neatly
folded on the bed and decided to get to work on the office before tackling my
paper. Not having to do the windows meant I was done in practically no
time at all. For a writer, Mr. Hunter was extraordinarily tidy. His
desk was spotless. I wondered if he put things away before I came and I
was tempted to peek into a drawer or two, but restrained myself.
Something told me snooping was sure way to incur my boss’s wrath.
My chores done until Mr. Hunter returned with groceries, I was
setting up my computer and notes at the kitchen island when my stomach growled
loudly. The toast I’d had hours ago had worn off, obviously, and my body
was ready
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