The Housekeeper Novels & Stories

I wiped my cheeks, trying to remove the last traces of my breakdown, when the door slowly opened. I stiffened at the sounds of footsteps, but when I looked up, relief and unease both clashed within me. It was a woman, a housekeeper by the looks of it, she wore a uniform, a simple short-sleeved dress with a peter pan collar. “Good morning Miss,” The woman bowed before glancing around, frowning slightly upon seeing the shards of items broken, and the general messy area. “Please get up. I shall draw up a bath for you to refresh yourself.”

After three months away, I was finally home. I asked the house's male housekeeper, Jacob Miller, to give me a hand carrying my luggage upstairs. Jacob hoisted the suitcase but had barely taken a few steps when—bang—the luggage crashed to the floor. He clutched his wrist, wincing in pain. The noise startled the three women on the sofa. They jumped up and rushed toward him, surrounding him with frantic questions, fussing as if he were about to shatter. They scrambled for ointment, massaging his wrist with careful fingers, treating him like fragile porcelain.

She thought that her fiancé might have lied when he said he wasn't able to prepare her room. Maybe he had a housekeeper who regularly cleans his place, she thought, shrugging whilst thinking about the housekeepers in their home who were insanely obsessed with cleaning. They too left no spot untouched with their hands that were probably trained by the god of cleanliness and tend to leave the area squeaky clean that she could even see her reflection on the cleaned areas.

The whole mansion is a mess after the hookers who left their half-smoked cigarettes everywhere. Maybe my father called the housekeeper to have her clean it up? Regardless, I have to save this situation—if she suspects anything and talks to my father about this, then I'm dead meat. "Oh," I nervously giggle. "I was just going to look inside my father's office for something I think I might have dropped earlier!" Why am I explaining myself to our housekeeper? I have more rights to wander our house than she has! The older woman tilts her head, she is wrinkly and probably above fifty years old, but her tanned skin is naturally bronzed and beautiful. I believe she is

Don’t get lost. By the time she went downstairs, the house was quiet except for faint clattering sounds from the kitchen. She followed them. Mrs. Helen, the older housekeeper, was struggling to reach the top shelf to get a jar of honey. Camilla smiled faintly and walked over. “Let me help,” she said softly, grabbing it with ease and setting it on the counter. The woman chuckled. “You shouldn’t trouble yourself, madam. That’s what we are here for.” Camilla shook her head. “You make this place feel like home. The least I can do is help.”

“We’re here” “Let’s have our lunch first, then we will tour you with the whole house.” “Okay”, she said while looking around. Wow! The place is so big. The house is so big. It was a mansion. She never lived in a big house. While she can proudly say that she was a successful Chef slash businesswoman in her previous life, she never lived in a big house. She just buy a condominium unit near the restaurant for convenient and a house in a rural with a large yard for her gardening. Well, she was alone and she believes that it is not practical to have a big house added the fact that it was time consumable to clean a big house. She does not hire a housekeeper to help her for maintaining the house be

I stared at her while making my eyes as sharp as knives before asking "Who are you, and how did you get in here? Do you know trespassing on this property can get you kicked out or worse....killed? Do I have to get one or two of the many guards at my husband's disposal?" "Um, i am here on orders ma'am, i am the house chef, i come here every wednesday and i cook food worth a weeks meal and i leave once i am done, it is not whatever you might be thinking, there is a guard at the door and probably somewhere else so you can be rest assured that i am here solely based on YOUR HUSBAND'S orders ma'am?" she said but i was stilll distrustful. "We have a housekeeper, and I am sure she cooks the food."

Under the sunlight, the vase building looked magnificent. Donovan’s personal bodyguard, Brad led me into the house. He was neither enthusiastic nor fawning at me. I guess he knew about Donovan and I’s one month plan. Though the house was huge, I didn’t see much servants. Just one to be exactly. Brad led me to the housekeeper and left. I felt uncomfortable as I looked around. “You can call me Joan, I’m the housekeeper, if you need anything, let me know.”Joan who seemed to be in her fifties said with a smile.

It was a lady, and she looked quite familiar. "Good morning," I greeted as opened the door, and she smiled so brightly at me. I wondered who she was. "Oh dear. You are so beautiful," she complimented as she made her way inside, and she noticed the puzzled look on my face, "I am Ms. Davison, the housekeeper here," she finally explained. Although she tried to dissuade me from helping her, I joined in the cleaning of everything since I had nothing to do. It was quite easy doing it together, and we had succeeded in cleaning almost everywhere in an hour.

The Kings had to be its first residents. Security let us in, and we walked through the gates to the front steps. Mrs. Gabe rang the bell, and footsteps approached shortly after. The woman who opened the door was not what I expected. She was small and immaculate, wearing a dark uniform. Her eyes moved over Mrs. Gabe first, warm enough, then slid to me and stopped on my face. "Maria," Mrs. Gabe said pleasantly. "This is Clara Adene. She's the young woman I mentioned. She's a sharp, reliable girl, and good with children. Clara, this is Maria Hunter, the housekeeper and manager of the King's mansion."