Castle in the Clouds Ch. 03

Two weeks went by in a blur of pressed linen uniforms, menus, inventories, children's laughter, and late nights with my webcam and treasure trove. As I helped pack my things for my departure to the mountain estate, I had mixed emotions. On the one hand, I was about to be whisked away to a luxurious mansion where Andrew and I would have much more privacy, and I would get to stretch my wings as the primary housekeeper - both opportunities I was excited for. On the other hand, there was something warm and loving in the Khatri estate that I was sorry to leave behind. And yet, there was something... unsettling beneath that warmth, like a shadow cast by firelight. The grief for the late Elaine Khatri was tangible.

I put those musings on my back burner the next early morning as I boarded the helicopter, bound for the mountains, waving to Mr. Kumiega and Mrs. Skylark over my shoulder. I had an hour and a half flight ahead of me before I was expected to begin my duties, and I was going to need to concentrate as much as I could on planning my strategy for the day.

I had filled my notebook with ideas and questions based on phone conversations with the staff on site by the time the pilot warned me we were approaching. The altitude had been messing with my eardrums for a while, but we continued to climb. I stared out the window like a child as the helicopter veered to the right, giving me a view of the estate. The mountain was draped in clouds, heavy with morning cold and dew, but the mansion could be glimpsed as the wind pulled whisps apart. Mansion wasn't the right word for it - a better descriptor would be a castle. Stone walls, wrought iron windows, and even a tower could be spied before being quickly hidden from view again. The effect was magical.

The helipad had to land a distance away, and I had to continue my journey by car. The estate's altitude meant in early mornings or on cloudy days the pilot would be unable to see if he were to fly to the mansion directly. As I approached by land, I smiled in amazement as details came into view. Much like the Khatri estate, this was an ambitious blend of two distinct styles of architecture. This time the marriage was between a medieval castle, straight out of a fairy tale, and a high-class mountain lodge. Stone and wood wove together, intercepting the curve of towers and balconies with the sharp angles of peaked roofs prepared for snow.

Thankfully there was no snow today and my arrival, besides the view, was uneventful. As the car pulled up to the servant's entrance in the back and I saw my staff waiting for me, I cleared my mind. It was currently six AM. Andrew would be home in eleven hours for dinner, and there was so much to do before then. I stepped out of the car, thanked the driver, and strode to the house with a sense of purpose. Time to make this mountain castle a warm, inviting home!

--

If my days at the Khatri estate were long, that first day at the mountain estate was insufferable. My staff were talented, but new to the family just like I was. There were pieces of the estate that were still under construction, forcing staff to walk longer routes between rooms. No one had even thought to take inventory of the wine cellar in the past three months! I had to phone Mrs. Skylark and Mr. Kumiega several times to get contact information for contractors and local merchants. I suppose that's to be expected when establishing a whole new estate with a whole new staff.

Finally I was preparing for the end of my work day, and I realized I hadn't even seen my own room yet. I asked one of the maids, Francine, to show me the way. The curly-redhead and I had gotten along quite well that day; she was a hard worker, if a bit gossipy, and she paid the most attention to detail of all the staff. As she guided me through the halls chatting eagerly, I caught a glimpse of the driveway out one of the stately windows and noticed a car coming up the drive. Andrew was home.

My room was very similar to the one I had in the Khatri estate, perhaps a bit larger, and the furniture more resembled what I would expect to see if I was coming back from a fun day skiing with billionaires. I gratefully noted that my luggage was neatly arranged by the closet. My uniforms had been unpacked and hung, and my personal clothes were respectfully waiting for me to unpack them in privacy. I was changing out of my uniform, preparing for my comfy jeans and T-shirt, when my phone buzzed. To my surprise, Andrew had texted me. 'Have you eaten?'

I shed my last layer and sat back on the bed, enjoying the caress of the silky comforter on my skin. 'No, I was about to head to the kitchens,' I texted back.

His reply was immediate. 'Come join me for dinner. Pork with fried garlic in red wine. I'd love your company.'

I smiled. 'That sounds delicious. I'll be there.'

'Don't you need to know when?'

'I chose your menu and schedule, silly.'

Laughing to myself, I slid back off the bed to choose something a bit more interesting to wear. No holding back this time, no business suits and basic ponytails. And that makeup needed a touch up...

I settled on a sky blue off-the-shoulder dress with a skin-tight bodice and flowy skirt ending a few inches above my knee. It was one of my favorite, fun little frocks, and I didn't get an excuse to wear it very often. I accessorized with silver on my wrist, neck, and ankle, then slipped on silver heels to match. I was curious how the staff would react to seeing me eating with our employer, and I didn't want my intentions to be too obvious. This early into my new job, it could be disastrous if I lost their respect.

The dining room, like most rooms designed for the family and guests, had an amazing view of the mountainside aided by ceiling-to-floor windows. The long table and chairs appeared to be carved whole from walnut. I had spent an hour here earlier with the kitchen staff arguing about how to arrange servants in the event of a multi-course dinner with guests. As I walked in for dinner, my attention was drawn to one thing only - Andrew was here, in smart-looking business slacks and a white dress shirt, top buttons loose and the sleeves rolled up. He smiled when I entered, bringing light to his eyes.

I couldn't help but smile back at him. "Welcome back, sir," I said as I walked to the seat beside him. "It's so good to see you."

He took my hand in his and pulled me to him before I could sit. "Don't call me 'sir' here," he implored me, raising my hand to his lips. "I am asking a beautiful lady friend to join me for dinner."

I felt my collar bones starting to flush already. Not about to let him be the only charmer, I reached out to trace my hands tenderly up his arms, brushing up his sleeves, over his shoulders, and pulling him into a hug. His arms wrapped around me in turn, and I kissed him on the cheek. He pulled me tighter, sighing deeply, and I felt his shoulders loosen just a little. I understood a little how he was feeling. After two weeks of guiding and encouraging each other to orgasm after orgasm, separated by flickering screens, this physical embrace eased an ache in me - an ache for real, warm touch, his body holding mine with reverence.

We stepped apart, Andrew taking my hand once again. He stepped a little farther and held me at arm's length to admire my outfit. "You look stunning, like a summer sky at a beach with still waters and soft sand."

"Thank you very much! What a poet you are," I said as he guided me to my seat. Ever the gentleman, he pushed my chair in for me. I noticed that dinner was already laid at the table, family-style, rather than waiting to be served. I furrowed my brows. "This isn't how I had it -"

He shushed me with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry, I talked to Chef Armand myself. I told him I didn't want to be interrupted."

He stood to serve us, reaching for tongs and my plate so he could provide some of the loveliest pork cuts I had ever seen. I decided to broach the subject that had entered my mind just minutes ago. "I have been wondering how we intend to keep our discretions... discrete," I said, offering to serve him the beautifully roasted string beans and brussel sprouts, which were closer to my seat. We swapped plates as I continued. "I can't imagine it would do well if it was found you were having dalliances with the housekeeper."

"On the contrary," Andrew replied, "it wouldn't concern me at all. All of our employee contracts state that relationships with other employees or with unwed family members are not forbidden, but will be carefully reviewed. And I pay our staff to be professional and, as you said, discrete."

"I'm surprised you feel so calm about this," I remarked as I began cutting into the pork. "You aren't concerned about scandal? Or my ability to work with the staff, if they think I'm your favorite?"

He paused mid-bite, considering my point. "I don't worry about scandal. That's what lawyers are for. As for the staff's opinions... Well, I trust your judgment in that."

"I think it would be better if our relationship was seen more as friendly than... explicit. I want to earn their trust," I said sincerely. "But I don't think anyone will think poorly of me for keeping you company at dinner. After all, I did the same with your family."

"How do you get along with Marisol and Tarak?"

"Oh, they're the most charming, mischievous little things!" I gushed. "But I didn't get to spend much time with them except for dinner."

Andrew nodded. "They're kept busy morning to night. We found very quickly that the busier they are, the better for the entire house. Elaine hired all kinds of tutors for them. Lawrence has kept them engaged in those studies."

"Mr. Kumiega takes very good care of them," I murmured.

He nodded. "I'm grateful. He knows them both as if they were his own children. He was the first one to realize Tarak has a musical talent, and has arranged for him to have every instrument he asks for. And he's dedicated himself to Marisol's treatment."

"Mrs. Skylark shared Marisol's medical information in case of emergencies," I responded. "It's very fortunate that she was diagnosed so early."

"Well, Elaine had PKD, too," Andrew reminded me. "So she had both children checked regularly for it after they were born. She was very insistent."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but I'd love to hear more about your family," I said, watching Andrew's eyes to see if they would grow tired and distant. "And I'd rather hear from you than from staff gossip."

"I don't want to depress you at all," he said gently.

I shook my head and reached to caress his hand comfortingly. "I'm not here to pry, just to listen and be supportive. Mrs. Skylark shared with me how much everyone misses Mrs. Khatri, and I'd love to hear more about the joy you shared together."

Andrew smiled and squeezed my hand lightly. "Well... all right, if in exchange I can hear about your family."

I chuckled wryly. "I'm afraid there isn't much to tell there. I haven't seen them in years and don't plan to." I cut in before he could express concern or sympathy. "But your family is still a very real part of your life, so please, tell me more."

Perhaps sensing how earnest I was, Andrew nodded. His eyes slid over to the window, watching the sun gradually approach the top of the evergreens on a neighboring peak. "Well... where to start... Elaine and I always knew each other, in a way. Our parents were business partners, but not very close. It wasn't until our fathers had a successful merger when I was about fifteen, sixteen that we began spending much more time together. And even then I didn't consider dating her for another three years... I think I just saw her as unattainable."

"In what way?"

"She was heavenly." He picked up a glass of wine absent-mindedly. "I'm sure you've seen the portrait... Well, she was even lovelier. Everything about her felt crafted by angels. Her voice, her laugh, the way she made you feel like the most important man on earth. She made everyone feel welcome at every party."

"She sounds like a dream."

"That's the thing, isn't it?" He swirled the glass in his hand and watched the wine ripple. "You read books about women like her and think it couldn't be real, but she really was almost... ethereal. Men would become obsessed with her. At every event she was surrounded by every eligible bachelor, and some who weren't eligible or bachelors. She could handle all of them with grace, but that only made them love her more. She could have had her pick of anyone, and it was a fight to get close to her." He chuckled. "And I wasn't much of a prize in my youth. The awkward teenage phase coupled with my transition... It was a bumpy ride."

I nodded. "I bet she made even adolescence seem flawless."

"And you couldn't even be mad at her for it!" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So for a while I was dating a close friend of hers, and a close friend of the family. And I thought we were going to marry, combine our family's wealth, strengthen the business."

"You almost make it sound like a royal engagement."

"I think our families felt that way. And I think we would have been happy. But then..." He smiled fondly. "When I was about twenty, my ex and I separated, and Elaine took matters into her own hands."

"Ah... A woman who takes what she wants?"

"She certainly wasn't shy." He sat back in his chair and gestured with his words, engrossed in the happy memory. "She invited me to a picnic dinner, no servants or family. It was the first time we'd ever been alone. And she laid it all out, asked me to give her a chance, even tried to apologize for not being as wealthy as what she thought I wanted. It was astounding - this angel, imagining that she had to make her case to me, when men flock to her side? Honestly the moment she was sitting on the grass next to me, asking me to hold her, sun glinting off her hair... I was hers. How could you say no to someone with that good of a heart? And the next three years I only grew to love her more. She was my rock as I finished my education and prepared to step into the business. She taught me about charitable investments and public service projects, when I felt I had no purpose. I watched her go out of her way to help everyone around us."

I watched his eyes grow misty and he looked back to the window. I reached for his hand. He took it and I caressed his knuckles with my fingertips as he pressed on. "Our wedding day was a dream. It was pouring rain everywhere for two hundred miles, except right above where we were celebrating and dancing under the stars. We danced for hours. And every year after that she would do these wonderful things to keep the spark in our marriage. When I traveled for work, she would handwrite a letter to me at the end of every day, and I would read them all when I got back. And I tried to do little things for her too, like surprising her with presents, but nothing ever seemed to be enough to... to show her how she made me feel. And yet she always acted like each moment of my time was a gift."

I gave him a few moments to reflect, then quietly asked, "When did you decide to have children?"

That brightened his smile once more. "It was Elaine's idea, of course. I had more or less given that idea up years before. But Elaine made me realize that they wouldn't be any less mine, if we loved and raised them together. She chose to go through a sperm donation, and I supported her, even though I was so worried for her health." He took a sip thoughtfully. "She took good care of herself, but with pregnancy, anything can happen. We had to monitor her blood pressure so closely. And of course there was the chance of her children having it... But it was worth it."

"They're beautiful children."

"Marisol looks exactly like her," Andrew mused, "and Tarak has her humor and wit. Elaine was an amazing mother. She was so devoted, but very structured. She had her expectations for how they were to behave and treat others, and she taught them by example. Tarak's first word was 'please' because of her."

"What was Marisol's first word?"

"I think it was 'pizza,'" Andrew chortled.

I laughed with him, imagining a tiny chubby tow-haired Marisol holding out her hands and demanding her cheesy delight. "That's adorable!"

His smile grew bittersweet. "Tarak was born just before my parents died. I was always grateful Elaine persuaded me to try for kids when we did. I believe they rest easier because they were able to see that our family would have a happy future."

We sat together for some time then, watching birds slowly making their ways to their nests for the evening. Eventually Andrew turned to me. "I imagine you're wondering but are too polite to ask... about how she died."

"You don't need to -"

"No, it's okay. I haven't had the chance to talk about this with anyone, really." He breathed a big sigh. "It was very unexpected. She died in her sleep two years ago. I was away on business. There was no warning. Just one day she was... gone."

"Oh, Andrew." I moved my seat closer to him and rested an arm around his shoulder, holding him gently. "I'm so sorry. That must have been a horrific shock for you."

Andrew rested his head on my hand, accepting my embrace. "I... I came undone," he admitted in a choked voice. "It was all I could do to be there for my children. Marisol cried and cried every night for six months. But Tarak was nearly inconsolable for almost a year. He wouldn't let anyone but me come near him most days, and almost threw a screaming fit whenever Lawrence tried to approach him. I spent hours with him in the garden, trying to get him to talk, sometimes just sitting next to him while he hit trees with sticks. It just seemed like he needed to get his anger out... I hired a grief therapist, and that seemed to help both of them, but it was a long road."

I squeezed his shoulders. "That's amazing, that you were able to be there for your children when you must have been in so much pain yourself."

He waved the notion away with his hand. "That's parenting. That was the easy part. When I'm focused on how much I love my kids, I can do anything for them. But the hours after they were in bed... Those were the hardest. I... I have never been so alone." He took a deep shuddering breath.

I leaned my head against his shoulder and massaged his back with my hand. "Well... what are you doing now to try and care for yourself? Did you see a therapist like your kids?"

He laughed wryly. "That would have been the smart thing to do. I've used my work to escape. Ever since the children have started feeling better, I've been traveling more and more often, and staying here to get more work done. It's ironic, really. This house was Elaine's dream."

"Was it really?"

"Her mountain resort. For her dream Christmas wonderland and ski getaway." He shook his head. "I don't even know how to ski and my family doesn't celebrate Christmas. At least, not without her. Or including it in a business deal."

"So everywhere you go, here or at home, is a memory of her."

"Well, mostly at home. She never got to be much involved in making this house, so... her touch is missing here."

"Who helped you design it?" I imagined Andrew was far too busy to pour over blueprints.

"Lawrence took the project under his wing. I can't begin to fathom how the man has the energy for all he does. But then again," he chuckled, turning towards me, "you and Mrs. Skylark are in very similar positions." He sat up and cleared his throat, patting my free hand comfortingly. "Now, listen, I think I've been enough of a rain cloud on this beautiful evening. Tell me about your day, or about how you got involved in hospitality. Something about you, please."

I respected his wishes, regaling him with stories from my college days and my first jobs in hospitality, and we enjoyed the rest of the delicious dinner in higher spirits. I watched him carefully, but his expressions seemed genuine. As an escort it was common to get widower clients, and I was comfortable with helping them through their grief. I just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Andrew's loss than he had expressed. But, for that moment, he was able to laugh, eat, and converse with me until long after the sun had gilded the tips of the evergreens.