“One thing is for sure,” Portia said. “He’ll never say a negative word about her, and if you’re smart, you won’t say one in his presence, either.”
“In anyone’s presence,” Camelia warned.
“Amen,” Portia said.
“Everyone is so loyal to the queen,” I said. “I feel I should genuflect in her presence.”
Neither laughed.
“It’s her castle. We live in her kingdom. Besides, everyone is paid well and treated well,” Portia said. “Mrs. Brittany keeps her word when it comes to what she promises you. Don’t ever worry about that. And if and when she accepts you, you’ll have a very good friend for life.”
“Before you know it, you’ll be as loyal as we are to her, if not more,” Camelia told me. She looked at Portia and then back at me. “Considering where you are and where she might take you, probably more.”
“Where I am?”
“Assuming she gets the stamp of approval,” Portia reminded her.
“Oh, she will win over Mrs. Brittany,” Camelia said, smiling at me. “I think she has what it takes.”
I drank some orange juice, pleased that it was freshly squeezed. Mama always served freshly squeezed orange juice in the morning. Having fresh fruit and vegetables was always a priority to her. I recalled how proud she was of how they ate in France, shopping at farmers’ markets and rarely using frozen foods.
Why was it that even here, with all these distractions, I continually thought about Mama and Emmie and even Papa? Did this mean that deep down inside, I knew I couldn’t do this and that I would end up at my family’s front door, head bowed, begging to be permitted to come home? I pushed the thought out of my mind.
“She has barely begun her first day, Camelia,” Portia reminded her. She kept her smile. “A little early for predictions, don’t you think?”
Camelia shrugged. “I can remember my first day as if it were yesterday,” she said. She began to eat.
I watched how daintily she cut into the egg and how carefully she spread jam on her toast. In fact, both of them ate as if they were in a competition to see who could drop the least amount of crumbs. They patted their lips after every bite.
“Oh, and how did yours go?” I asked.
“I think I was terrified,” she said, turning to Portia. “Even though I never let anyone know it.”
“I know I was, and I’m sure they knew it.”
“Why were you two terrified?” I asked. I gulped the rest of my juice. They stared at me a moment and then smiled at each other. “What’s so funny?”
“You drink like a teenager,” Portia said. “Not very ladylike, and here you want to be very ladylike.”
“I see that Mrs. Brittany has her work cut out for her,” Camelia admitted, probably having second thoughts about my success.
“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll surprise her. I can tell you one thing. I’m not terrified, and this is not an act.”
“Too bad,” Portia said quickly.
“Why?”
“You’ll try harder if you’re terrified of failure. I did, and so did Camelia.”
I shrugged. “Five thousand dollars isn’t a bad kill fee,” I said, and they both laughed. “Now what’s so funny?”
“Five thousand dollars is less than a night’s work for us,” Camelia said. “To see that as a safety net or something and be satisfied after being brought here and seeing what you could have is ludicrous.”
“She means ridiculous,” Portia said.
“I know what it means. I’m not stupid. I don’t know what you’ve been told about me.”
“Not much,” Portia replied, “and even if we had, we’d be D and D.”