Tough Shit (Rejects Paradise 1)

Sir Douche Canoe waits a moment, watching me in silence, waiting for me to reel in my dramatics before allowing us to step into the Carrington mansion. When he deems I’m acting respectfully enough, he nods politely to my mom before scowling at me. “Follow me.”

He turns on his heel and instantly begins stalking off, leaving us to scramble behind him. “Leave your belongings. I’ll have Carlos take them to your rooms.”

Mom and I look at each other in relief before quickly lining our bags up against the wall of the oversized foyer and hurrying to catch up.

“Um, Sir,” I say as I listen to the repetitive sound of mom’s cheap heels clicking against the expensive marble floors. “Your name?”

He doesn’t turn around, just keeps forging ahead through the huge mansion, hardly giving me a second to catch my bearings. I’ll have to explore later. “My name is Harrison Whitby. I am Mr. Carrington’s personal butler and head of staff. Any questions, inquiries, or comments go through me. Mr. Carrington is a very busy man.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You may call me Harrison, however in the presence of the Carrington family, I will be addressed as Mr. Whitby.”

Mom nods despite Harrison not looking her way. “Understood.”

Harrison leads us through the mansion and I quickly glance around, taking in the multiple huge staircases, the gold trim on the railings, and the stone statues. This place is fit for a king, but while it’s the most impressive thing I’ve ever seen, it’s also incredibly quiet. It’s kinda eerie actually.

We’re led down a long hallway and through a door at the end. As we step over the threshold, it’s suddenly a whole new place. There are people everywhere, a busy kitchen is in full force while people scramble around. Women in maid outfits are walking in and out of a huge laundry room while others are busily refilling a tea and coffee cart.

It’s only eight in the morning so I’m assuming they’re busily preparing for the Carringtons’ breakfast. Though, if this is the effort taken for breakfast, I’d hate to see how crazy it is in here for a dinner party. It has me wondering just how many Carringtons there are. This is a lot of fuss if it was just for one. I mean, what the hell is wrong with simple jam on toast?

Harrison finally stops in the center and I don’t miss the way the other staff’s eyes linger on me and mom. He turns back to us and gets started on mom’s introduction, leaving me to go along for the ride. “This is the staff quarters where the majority of the staff spend their time. Lunches and breaks are taken in here and never in the main part of the house. You were hired as a live-in house-keeper, so feel free to take your breaks in the pool house which is where you’ll be residing with your daughter.”

He starts walking again and we hastily follow along, desperately trying to keep up with his pace. “This is the main kitchen area where all meals are prepared. The Carringtons’ personal kitchen is not to be used under any circumstances. That is reserved solely for the family. The same goes for bathrooms, laundry, and dining areas.” Harrison looks toward me. “You will not be permitted access to the main house unless invited by the family. Your time is to be spent in the pool house or the staff quarters. However, if you are to be in here, you must not be a nuisance. Is that understood?”

“Understood,” I say with a sharp nod, feeling a slight twinge in my gut. I was kind of hoping to go exploring.

“Unfortunately, our previous live-in maid has fallen ill and is still clearing her things out of the pool house. It looks like she could be a few more days. However, Mr. Carrington has been kind enough to offer you both a room in the main house, provided you remain respectful to house rules. You will both be allowed access to the yard when you’re not on the clock. The tennis courts and pool are open for your personal use. However, you are not to invite guests over to the pool house unless they have been accepted and added to the approved list of house guests.” He focuses his stare on me but it comes off as more of a warning. “If they are not on the list, they are not welcome.”

I hold back a scoff. I have a feeling that rule is going to be broken. Many, many times. My boys won’t stand for that bullshit and I can guarantee, they sure as hell won’t be approved to be on any list.

Harrison focuses his full attention on mom before pointing out a lady in the kitchen who’s leaning over the counter with a massive schedule spread out before her. “This is Maryne. She is in charge of your schedule. If you need a day off or have any issues, you will discuss it with her.”