714 Bridle Path Ch. 01

Val squealed in delight as she looked at the largest table, knowing several of them could sit around and play cards or board games now, something they'd wanted to be able to do and had been using the staff dining room for up until now. An antique bookcase in a corner housed several board games, as requested by the staff. Monopoly, Poleconomy, Risk, Stratego, Settlers of Catan, Mastermind, Trivial Pursuit, checkers, chess... Ari and Andrea were exclaiming about the dozens of games that could be selected from the stand-up console.

The general chatter was interrupted by three loud 'pop!' sounds, and everyone turned to see that Mike, Karen, and Jenny had all just opened champagne bottles. Alex and Alexa were bringing around elegant crystal flutes for everyone.

"Welcome to your lounge, my friends!" Karen said gaily as she began to fill the glasses. Everyone was clapping and taking their glasses of champagne, toasting one another and their new room.

"Dibs on DJ!" Ari called, heading for the sound system.

"Oh, Christ," Dave muttered as he sipped his bubbly while Tatyana patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Hip-hop and rap all night."

"It's not like he's playing the Wiggles at you, tough guy," Andrea laughed.

"Although that would make for a funny 'Fruit Salad' joke, one must admit," Tatyana added, almost making the mechanic do a spit-take.

Mercifully, Ari kept the playlist varied, something to everyone's taste, from the aforementioned rap and hip-hop to classic rock and Eighties New Wave. Jordan had taken over bartending duties while Mike excused himself and slipped out of the lounge to go see to the food. Jenny and Karen were making the rounds, talking with everyone and making sure that the room met with their approval.

Not a single detail had been overlooked, and the staff members were all well-pleased. Even the pictures on the walls were perfect, scenes of earlier iterations of the staff, as well as the current team.

"Mistress, is that the Angelique girl you told me about and whose job I'm doing now?" Val asked as she pointed at a framed photo on the wall. It showed a teenage Karen smiling for the camera with a woman in a maid's uniform, not unlike what Trilby habitually wore. But the dark-haired girl in the photo was rather more built than Trilby, her outfit curving out pleasingly in all the right places.

"That is indeed Angelique," Karen said, nodding as she looked where her maidservant indicated. "I think she was about ten years older than me. She was my personal attendant on the staff when I was growing up, along with Jordan."

"I'll bet I know what that means," Val said with a sly smile. "She was your lover, right?"

"For many years, yes," Karen confirmed, as if it was no big deal.

"Do you miss her?" the younger woman queried.

"I suppose, after a fashion," her mistress allowed. "We certainly weren't in love, although she was very devoted to me personally. She got pregnant, though, and gave her notice before Jordan or my father found out. Only my mother and I knew. She went with the father to Burbank or some such thing."

"Bummer, having to give up a job like this," Val mused. "I dunno what'd make me do it, unless I was suddenly a zillionaire myself. And even then, I might still do this because... well, y'know..."

"I do indeed, Miss Prospero," Karen said warmly, giving her hand a squeeze.

Elsewhere in the room, Tunde and Marie had settled down into two plush chairs with a small table between them. It was comfy and removed, although they could still hear everything, of course. They'd both had their obligatory champagne toast, and had now moved on to softer beverages, while some Eighties group called Camouflage played over the speakers.

"You must be saving up quite a bit of money, Tunde," the Frenchwoman remarked, drinking a non-alcoholic wine. "Are you putting it away for investment or retirement?"

The black man shrugged, but also nodded. "I put quite a bit into investment, since our employers have put me in touch with a man they trust. But I still send money home to my mother in Tongaat."

"That's right, you have a family there, don't you?" she said, smiling.

Tunde nodded. "I was born in 1993, and the Apartheid had only just begun ending. There was violence when I was growing up, and it distressed my mother greatly. She finally sent me here in my teens to escape it, and I attended a trade school. Whatever my jobs, I have made sure I had enough to live, and then sent the rest back home, to look after her and my udadawethu."

"You must be able to send more money than ever back to them now, since we are all paid well for these jobs and our room and board are seen to," Marie mused.

"I tried to send more back, but my umama told me to start looking after myself as well," he explained. "I am making three times as much at this job as I did at any other, even working hourly. She does not want me sending so much back that they feel spoiled. And many of the banks are still corrupt, it is not unknown for people to be robbed because an employee at a bank told bad people who was making what."

"That is sad, but I understand," she said, nodding. "I left Europe because things had begun to feel... what's the word... stodgy there. I wanted to bring Old World garden charm to a new place, and this just fell in my lap. And this is the most money I have ever made at a job either, including my work in Versailles."

"I have seen photographs of your work in places like Versailles," Tunde replied, smiling and holding up his tomato juice. "You deserve every penny, Marie."

The Breton woman blushed and looked down into her glass, a hint of a smile on her face. "Trugarez vas..."

At the bar...

"Miss Trilby, can I interest you in a fortified beverage?" Jordan asked from behind the long, carved and ornate-looking wooden bar. "I know you normally don't partake, but tonight might be an exception."

"I think you're right, old-timer," the hippie girl said easily, settling down onto a barstool. "Just... nothing strong, by my standards."

Jordan shrugged. "I'm fairly certain we would be exiled by the lord of the manor if I were to serve you a Whiteclaw, my dear, but maybe I can find a light wine for you."

"Sure, hit me," Trilby said, nodding before looking at Ari, who was tooling around on his computer in the seat next to her. "Not working, are you?"

"Nope, just setting up the playlist for the night," he replied, keying in some choices. "Anything you wanna add? Everyone gets a few, and then I set them up in a certain order."

Trilby pondered. "Yeah, gimme some mellow Doors, and then 'Comfortably Numb', willya?"

"Done and done," the cyber-guru said cheerfully, entering her selections. He'd lost his virginity to an older man while the song 'People Are Strange' was playing, so he didn't mind The Doors one bit. "What's something about this job you're not used to yet?"

"Gonna sound weird, but Bubbles and I keep finding new rooms," Trilby replied, shaking her head. "You'd think after all these months, we'd've found everything, but no, at least once a week, some new nook or cranny pops up. Sometimes even the Boss Lady has forgotten about them and seems surprised until she remembers that she 'did it' in that room at one point or another."

"Sounds right," Ari laughed as a mid-career Madonna song came on. "Y'gotten used to that Hall of Ancestors yet? You two've gotta dust it down all the time."

"Dunno if I'll ever get used to those old farts lookin' down at me," she sighed resignedly. "The eyes in some of those paintings are so lifelike that it's kinda creepy. Seriously, I'm pretty sure Camden Blackwell's eyes track me as I walk down that hall."

"Which one's Camden?" Ari asked. "Is he the one in the black military uniform?"

"No," Trilby said, shaking her head. "He's wearin' red and has more flare than an emergency storage depot."

"Oh, that one," her co-worker said, smirking. "He's kinda cute."

"You need your gaydar checked, dude," she sighed, thanking Jordan for her wine. "They've cleared a spot for the Boss Lady's portrait, did you see that?"

Ari nodded. "We're all goin' nuts wondering what it'll look like. Even Mrs. DeBourne doesn't know, her husband isn't tellin' anyone. I think only Alex and Lexi know."

"It's kind of a big deal, the first matriarch of the family in a thousand years of history," Trilby mused. "Even a few local and society pages are covering it. So that's pretty cool, even if I'm not into high society stuff."

"And there has never been a more brilliant or accomplished head of the family in its history," Jordan added rather proudly, since he was standing with them.

"Isn't the Boss Man head of the family and the whole shebang?" Trilby asked.

"In a sense, yes," Jordan agreed with a nod. "But not in a bloodline sense. There is enough complementarian in the lady that she does indeed consider him the head of the household, and she listens to him about everything, most often following his advice. Master Michael learned everything he could about her world, knowing one day she would be at the helm of this family and would want his input. His word is her word, and vice versa. They are free to speak on one another's behalf, and the Blackwells know it, even if they don't like it. It has always been thus, since they fell in love."

"Sounds like something out of one of Glenda's romance novels by that author she's so hooked on," Trilby mused. "What's her name?"

"Cora Scarlett," Ari answered, sipping his cosmotini. "I was up in her room one night, doin' some hookah with her, and she tried reading me some paragraphs to hook me. And yeah, I may be sappy on occasion as a gay guy, but romance novels ain't my thing."

"It's a nifty pen name, y'gotta admit," Trilby allowed. "And who knows who it actually is? Could be anybody, really..."

Across the room...

Karen was staring at a portrait on the wall, lost in thought. She hadn't seen so many of these staff members in over thirty years, and she remembered them with a fond ache in her heart. She'd promised herself to never forget them, and had memorized at least one special thing about each of them. They were like stories in her head.

"For someone attending a festive event, you're certainly being quiet and pensive, Kat," Jenny mused as she walked up to her beloved oldest and best friend, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"I haven't seen some of these pictures in decades," Karen said wistfully, looking at one particular picture of a group of staff members and pointing to one. "Remember Theo?"

"Do I?" Jenny laughed. "He was the second man to ever fuck me, so yes."

"He was not," Karen countered, giving Jenny a wry look.

"I meant 'man', as in a man-man," Jenny corrected, smirking. "Not some boy. We weren't exactly good girls, Kat."

"True enough," admitted the bronze-haired goddess. "Scandalous, really."

"If you're attempting to sound remorseful, I am not falling for it, lovey," Jenny laughed. "Even if you were my earliest full-time lover, I am glad I didn't wait to get a proper rogering until I was older."

"Scandalous," Karen sighed, shaking her head.

A whoop and cheer went up in the center of the space as another song came on, and they turned to see Alexa, Freja, Jeanie, and Val in the middle of the lounge, bouncing and dancing together, twisting, wiggling, bumping and grinding. They were soon joined by Andrea and Ari, who added to the boisterous laughter and merrymaking.

"Oh, come, Kat," Jenny said eagerly, taking Karen by the hand. "Let's show the kiddies how it's done!"

Karen laughed and allowed herself to be dragged into the fray.

"Gonna be glad to leave this behind when you're gone?" Theresa asked, sitting next to Tatyana at a table, both of them drinking brandy and watching. Mrs. DeBourne had made sure quality spirits were stocked in the staff lounge, no rail brands for her employees. As a result, they were both currently enjoying a forty-year-old Darroze Armagnac.

"Not at all," the seneschal said, watching Miss Prospero bouncing about, flinging her frilly skirt around joyously. "I am looking forward to this when I return, in fact. We work hard, and our employers have done an exceptional thing for us, gifting us this space. Believe it or not, I'm looking forward to unwinding in here nightly."

Theresa smiled. "I guess we're all still used to thinking of you as the unstoppable machine, so seeing you relax and kick back with us will be welcome. I guess we've kinda become a family, haven't we?"

Tatyana nodded. The chef wasn't wrong. She might have been looking forward to seeing her father, but she was very much looking forward to what was waiting upon her return. Michael and Karen DeBourne had placed great faith in everyone, going to this expense. They wouldn't let those remarkable people down.

"Val said they're sending you with a case of primo vodka for your dad," Theresa mentioned, sipping her drink again. She loved brandy, choosing not to remember the nightmare effects whiskey had wreaked on her back on St. Patrick's Day. Brandy was so much more civilized, and a useful ingredient in cooking. "He'll no doubt appreciate that."

Tatyana nodded. "Insofar as we'll see if those beat-up old tastebuds of his can even tell the difference anymore. You don't smoke Russian cigarettes and drink peasant still vodka for decades without destroying your senses."

Theresa giggled. "Fair. Still, I'm glad you're looking forward to coming back and that we don't drive you crazy."

"Well, I didn't say that..." Tatyana said as she took another sip of her Armagnac.

Dave was sitting at a table in the back of the lounge, lighting up a cigar. He blew a cloud of smoke out and watched as it silently dissipated up into the filtration system. "Huh, looks like it works."

"Yeah, pops, you pretty much blew that right at me and it didn't get any farther," Trilby agreed, lighting up a joint and taking a hit. Her own stream of smoke went up and disappeared into the vent above. "Same goes for my stuff."

"And it's not too cold for you here in the corner?" he asked.

The hippie girl shook her head. "Nah, I'm pretty good about cold. The commune didn't always have heat in the winter, so I've got thick skin. I mean, I'm not a DeBourne man polar bear, but I'm perfectly comfortable here."

"So what plans do you have when you're done with this?" he asked, tilting his head up and blowing out another cloud.

She smirked. "Y'tryin' to be my dad? I don't mind, might be nice to have one."

"Hey, you can't listen to me less than my own daughter does," Dave grunted. "Her mom's get her convinced I'm the worst person to live since Hitler. She's usually findin' reasons to bail on comin' to see me, no matter where I work."

Trilby looked around. "Maybe this place'll impress her, and the fact that you're senior landscaper here."

"If her mother knew, she'd just tell Lil that I was clearly only good enough to be a menial for rich people, not be one," the older man grumbled. "Like that's a measure of success or something."

"Hey, you work as hard as anyone, including our bosses," Trilby chided. "She oughta be proud of her old man."

"Well, maybe I'll invite her to visit me here for the family weekend," he mused. "And you dodged my question about what you plan to do once you've put in your time here."

She shrugged. "Not too sure yet. I mean, I'm only in my mid-twenties. The bosses've offered to help me continue my education, whatever field I like. I think I was tellin' their kid once that I've always wanted to have my own li'l New Age shop. Y'know, crystals, incense, herbs, and charms, and stuff. Own the house, have the shop on the main floor, live above it, that sorta thing. I'm pretty simple that way."

They glanced over as they heard Val whoop-squeal in delight, skipping sideways in a small circle and ruffling her skirt to flash her polka-dot panties at the people standing around, clapping and egging her on. She'd clearly had two or more drinks in her now.

"And what about her?" Dave asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She's gonna be a fry-cook on Venus..." Trilby sighed, shaking her head.

***

Morning...

Everyone had the morning off, because hangovers might have been involved. Fortunately, nobody (except Valentina) seemed in bad shape, maybe just tired and somewhat slow. Mike was fixing breakfasts in the kitchen, along with Alex. They'd gotten up early, to make sure everyone was looked after. Freja and Jeanie, who'd had some drinks and smoked weed with Trilby, had stayed in one of the guest rooms on the second floor.

Karen was walking around the table, pouring coffee or tea the people present, those being Tatyana, Andrea, Tunde, Val, Trilby, Theresa, Ari, and Marie. Glenda had taken Dave into town to get some supplies for a garden. The Countess Penrose was nowhere to be seen, since it was before noon.

"I am glad to see everyone enjoyed themselves," Karen said as she poured tea for Tatyana. "No repeat of St. Paddy's, hm?"

"They only have the morning off, ma'am, because you and your husband are so generous," the seneschal replied, nodding her thanks for the beverage. "They'll all be back at it by noon."

"To quote the countess, my dear, 'tosh'," the matriarch said with a smile. "That was a good time last night, and I was fairly certain the catering was going to put everyone in a coma."

"I did not even know what Lobster Thermidor was, until last night," Tunde said, sipping his coffee. He'd successfully avoided the hangover, but only by having the one glass of champagne. He had no intention of finding out how the dreaded pickle brine worked.

"And I actually tried caviar," Trilby added. "I feel so fancy."

"I feel kinda hung over," Val mumbled, wearing her pajamas and rubbing her face with her free hand. "Did I really skip around and flash my panties at everyone?"

"Y'mean before or after your table dance routine, Bubbles?" Trilby asked, smirking as she lifted her teacup to her mouth.

"Gnnnn..." Val moaned, putting her forehead on her arm, which was on the table.

"Now now, Miss Prospero, even I have danced on tables before, several times, in fact," Karen said soothingly to her handmaid before returning to her seat. "And it's not like the people here haven't seen your underwear before. That you were wearing any at all is the surprise."

"Thanks, Mistress," Val muttered from inside the crook of her arm while everyone else snickered. "Che aiuta oh così tanto..."

"Mornin'," Alexa yawned as she shuffled into the dining room, stretching. Everyone stopped and stared at her as she dragged out her chair at the other end of the table and plunked down into her seat. She blinked slowly, her long blonde hair still a tangle of glorious bedhead.

Alexa looked around the room at the other people, wondering what they were staring at her for. "What?"

Karen was looking across the table at her younger sister, her eyebrow raised. Alexa was wearing one of Alex's white dress shirts, unbuttoned, so that her thorax was exposed right down the middle. The placket barely covered her nipples, meaning the entire swell of her large breasts on the inside were visible to all.

Everyone kept staring, Tunde rather dumbly.

"Seriously, Alli?" Karen asked.

"What?" the younger girl said defensively. "I'm wearing panties... this time..."

Karen closed her eyes while Val muttered in Italian and Tunde said something in isi-Zulu. Tatyana went back to diligently drinking her tea.

***

Karen's office, later...

"You wished to see me, ma'am?" the Russian woman asked as she closed the door behind her.

"Thank you, Tatyana, please sit," Karen said, gesturing to the comfy chair on the other side of the desk. Tatyana nodded and seated herself. "I'll start out by asking if the staff enjoyed themselves last night."