There was to be no doubt in my mind or hers. I was back to being her employee.
Two days later, Mr. Bob came for me in a limousine similar to the one in which he had first brought me to Mrs. Brittany. Mrs. Pratt had decided what I would take with me and what I would leave behind. What I would take was packed and immediately put into the trunk of the limousine. Both Mrs. Pratt and Mrs. Brittany walked me out to the car, where Mr. Bob waited.
“We want you to settle in for a while before you go to work,” Mrs. Brittany said. “Bob will show you around your neighborhood, introduce you to the beautician and salon we’ve chosen for your coiffure and your manicure and pedicure. He will introduce you to the boutique I’m currently employing to provide you with wardrobe as it is required. He’ll also show you the cafés and restaurants to frequent. Your physical trainer will come to you twice a week. The schedule is already set. Your masseuse will also come to you, and that is scheduled, too.
“Basic foods have been delivered and will be replenished as they are needed. If you want something additional, just leave orders for it, and as long as it’s not something we disapprove of your having, you’ll have it delivered. You can eat in anytime, any meal you wish. You just order it. Bob has arranged all that for you, too. The phone numbers are there.”
“Your scheduled doctor appointments and dentist appointments will be posted in your kitchen,” Mrs. Pratt continued, “as are all of your important phone numbers. When you need or want your chauffeured car, you will call down for it.”
She handed me a leather-bound portfolio.
“In there,” Mrs. Brittany followed, “you will find your credit cards, your banking information, and your passport. There is a wall safe in your apartment. Your place is ultra-safe, lots of security, but we never trust anyone or anything. I have known wealthy men who love pilfering, either out of some mental sickness or some sick need for a souvenir. From your past, we know that you’re familiar enough with thievery to know how to prevent yourself from being anyone’s victim.”
“Yes,” I said. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I won’t worry. You worry,” she snapped back at me.
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
“Finally, let us remind you of your agreement, your responsibility not to involve anyone in your business unless we arrange for him or her to do that. You cannot invite anyone you wish to your apartment.”
“Whom would I invite?”
“I expect you will make some acquaintances, Roxy. Be careful,” she warned.
“Okay.”
“We’ll be around to visit in a few days.”
“When will I have my first assignment?”
“When I schedule it,” she said.
She nodded at the chauffeur, who opened the door for me.
“We don’t wish our girls good luck,” Mrs. Brittany said when I started to turn to get in. I paused. “We don’t believe luck has anything to do with anything. You make your own good or bad luck.”
“Well, I have to disagree,” I said.
Mrs. Pratt looked shocked. “What?”
“It was my good luck to have Mr. Bob notice me that day, wasn’t it?” I asked, smiling at Mr. Bob, who smiled back. “At least, I hope it was my good luck,” I added, and got into the limousine.
The chauffeur closed the door.
Mr. Bob spoke with Mrs. Pratt and Mrs. Brittany for a few moments, and then he got in on the other side. He still wore that little impish smirk as we started away.
“What is so funny?” I asked him.
“I was just thinking of the girl I brought here and the girl I’m leaving with today.”
“And?”
“It feels so damn good to be right,” he said.
I stared at him a moment, and then we both laughed.
The limousine turned out of the driveway. I looked back at the estate. In some ways, I did feel like someone who had graduated. I even felt a little affection for the grand place. Of course, most of the reason for that lay with my memories of Sheena, but in so many ways, it had become my home when I had lost my home. Mr. Bob once told me that Mrs. Brittany would replace my family. I never believed that fully in my heart, but for the moment, I had no choice. It was all I had. But sitting in this limousine, wearing clothes that cost as much as most people spent on their living needs for a month or two, and heading for an ultra-luxurious apartment with everything arranged for me, down to a bottle of orange juice, I had trouble feeling sorry for m