Housekeeping Novels & Stories

The view was what Julian had always wanted from his domestic staff. All the surfaces, including fixtures and some appliances which were cleaned weekly, were totally wiped. The windows were totally wiped down. Julian left Hazel in the living room after sending a notification to the kitchen and walked hurriedly to his room. He could not believe his eyes. His en-suite lavatory was cleaned and disinfected. His walk-in closet received the touch of a woman. He shrugged as everywhere kept sparkling. "Sweetheart, you hired a professional this time," Hazel smirked, throwing herself at him.

I was still stabbing and I hit his arm but I was the one who was hurt because of the hardness then. I just went to the bathroom to take a shower and pour the annoyance there. I don't want everyone to mess around at home, especially if I clean. But Kalex is not that scattered, he even cleans the bottom and often vacuums. it's just a problem that she neglects the clothes, so I often shop and pick the clothes she will wear when entering.

I would eat everything he served me, even himself. After dinner, I was briefly introduced to the house stuff. Well, it was only a chef, and the housekeeper since Bryce, just like me, preferred silence, devoid of maids moving up and about, gossiping and everything. Well, due to the size of the house, there was also a professional cleaning company that came to clean once a week.. " Good morning madam, enjoy your breakfast. Sir had an early meeting, he won't dine with you." I had just stepped into the dining area when the kind housekeeper announced, and I nodded in greeting before taking my seat at the huge table.

Silently, Keiv walked toward the closet and opened it. His polo shirts. His pants. His shoes. Then he pointed toward the bathroom. "Toothbrush." Maeve looked. A black toothbrush. An electric shaver. Men's facial wash. Her eyes narrowed. "Still no." Keiv let out a sigh. He walked to the door and pointed at the small metal plate attached to it. UNIT 513 Maeve froze. "..." Slowly... She looked around. Different curtains. Different sofa. Different paint. A different scent.

Kelanar takes the keys and heads to the rooms and looks at the list: room 301 to 305. Henry's room is 303. Maybe I will get a small chance to see him, thinks Kelanar. Kelanar unlocks the first room and sees four baskets of laundry waiting. Each basket has a boy's name and room number. One by one she drags them all down the stairs and into the basement to the laundry room. Kelanar starts the first load and then heads back upstairs. Kelanar dusts the windows, desk and ceilings. Then she sweeps and mops. Once done she heads to the next room and does the next room the same way. All until she gets to Henry's room. Once in Henry and the twins' room, she starts to follow the same routine. When she

I feel my face flush a little. Leni will kill me if anyone finds out how much of a slob she is. She tries her best to clean up after herself, but she’s always in a hurry and leaves random shit all over the apartment. I tidy up as much as I can after her. It took some time to convince her to let housekeeping help us. Thank the Goddess she caved in. They have saved us from ourselves. Wait, today was cleaning day. There’s no way a hairbrush should be on the floor.

And of course I promised her I would. A middle-aged housekeeper named Mrs. Hargrove greeted me at the door and showed me around. The mansion was enormous , it had marble floors, expensive art peice on the walls, and so many rooms I knew I would get lost at first. My own quarters were small but clean, located on the third floor near the servants’ area. “You’ll mostly be tending to Mr. Blackwood’s personal needs,” Mrs. Hargrove explained. “Cleaning his study, preparing his evening tea, and keeping his private areas spotless. He values discretion and perfection.”

We employ a select team of highly skilled professionals dedicated to maintaining excellence in all aspects of estate management and personal service. Current Openings: - Housekeeper (Full-time, Live-in Position) There it was. Her way in. Aria clicked on the position, her heart rate increasing despite her outward calm. The job description was exactly what she'd expected: Position: Housekeeper Reports to: Head of Household Management Compensation: Competitive salary, room and board included Responsibilities: - Daily cleaning and maintenance of assigned areas within the main residence - Laundry and wardrobe care - Assistance with event preparation and guest services - Maintaining the highest st

“But that doesn’t mean they don’t have to look perfect.” The room inside is bigger than my entire apartment. King-sized bed. Velvet curtains. Marble bathroom. For guests. People who probably stay here for a weekend and then forget the place exists. I set my bag down carefully. Marta hands me a small notebook. “What’s this?” “Inventory log,” she says. “Rich people love lists.” I flip through it. Everything is cataloged. Sheets changed. Towels replaced. Dusting schedule. “Are they really that particular?” I asked.

It all felt surreal. Today's major task was cleaning the windows, a weekly chore. They moved through the house, removing each window from its frame and washing it thoroughly. They cleaned the frames and sills before replacing and polishing the glass again. The task took twice as long because they had to disarm each alarm for cleaning, and the system only stayed disarmed for a minute at a time.