My contract love story

Monday evening cast a nervous shadow over the grand house. Ashleigh, a whirlwind of energy, paced the living room, the only sound her footsteps echoing in the vast space. She’d ensured everything was in order with Mr. Atkinson chores delegated, Susan, the new butler, settled in the staff quarters (a meeting awaited her later).

The doorbell’s jarring ring startled her. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her blouse and marched towards the door.

A woman in her late 50s, impeccably dressed with a leather briefcase, stood on the doorstep.

Mrs. Cagliari?” the woman inquired, her smile warm and inviting.

“Yes, that’s me. Please, come in.” Ashleigh ushered her in. This was Dr. Amelia Brooks, the top college prep tutor Mr. Cagliari had chosen, specializing in those seeking entry to Robin College, Ashleigh’s ultimate goal.

Dr. Brooks settled comfortably into a plush armchair, her gaze sweeping across the room with a practiced eye.

“Mr. Cagliari informed me of your aspirations to attend Robin College,” she began, her voice calm and reassuring. “An admirable ambition, Ms. Cagliari. Admission requires exceptional effort; Robin is a prestigious institution.”

Ashleigh nodded, a flicker of doubt creeping into her confidence.

“I understand. I’m prepared to work as hard as necessary.”

Dr. Brooks offered a warm smile. “Excellent. Now, tell me about your academic background, particularly your strengths and weaknesses in science subjects.”

The next hour flew by in a flurry of questions and answers. Dr. Brooks’ assessment was thorough. While Ashleigh possessed a strong foundation in chemistry and biology, physics and advanced mathematics needed work.

“Don’t be discouraged,” Dr. Brooks soothed, noticing Ashleigh’s slumped posture.

“Focused study can address these gaps. I’ve created a personalized curriculum to maximize your chances. We’ll begin with a mix of pre-recorded lectures and online resources, supplemented by two in-person sessions per week where we’ll delve deeper and practice problem-solving.”

Relief washed over Ashleigh. This structured approach felt manageable, a stark contrast to the overwhelming sea of information she’d been struggling to navigate. “Sounds perfect, Dr. Brooks. I’m ready to start whenever you are.”

A satisfied smile played on Dr. Brooks’ lips. “Excellent.”

The next two hours flew by in a whirlwind of scientific inquiry. Dr. Brooks honed in on Ashleigh’s strengths, delving deep into areas like chemistry and biology. She peppered Ashleigh with questions, gauging her understanding of various concepts and offering insightful advice. Here and there, Dr. Brooks identified gaps in Ashleigh’s knowledge, recommending additional reading materials to solidify her foundation.

Just as the clock struck seven, Mr. Atkinson materialized in the doorway. “Madame,” he announced, “your lesson has concluded for the evening.”

Ashleigh acknowledged him with a nod. “Thank you, Dr. Brooks,” she said, turning to her tutor. “Having you on board for my admissions process is a relief. I truly appreciate your guidance.”

“No need to thank me, dear,” Dr. Brooks replied with a smile.

“Just be sure to review the areas we identified before our next session. Get a good night’s rest, and remember, focus is key!” Rising from the armchair, she gathered her books and tucked them neatly into her briefcase.

Mr. Atkinson escorted Dr. Brooks out and then returned to find Ashleigh still seated. “Mr. Atkinson,” she began, curiosity piqued, “how has Adrian structured the lesson schedule?”

“Mr. Cagliari has opted for alternate days, Madame,” he replied, leaning forward to present a schedule Mr. Turner had drafted based on Mr. Cagliari’s instructions.

“The duration will increase as we progress towards the final week madame.”

A wave of relief washed over Ashleigh. Even with their strained relationship, Adrian had taken her workload into account by scheduling alternate days. It offered a sliver of hope, a flicker of doubt about his absolute animosity towards her.

“That works perfectly,” she confirmed, glancing up from the schedule. Mr. Atkinson offered a brief nod in response.

“Dinner is ready, Madame,” he announced. “Chef Frank has prepared his finest.”

“Excellent,” Ashleigh replied. “Please deliver it to my room, and I would prefer Susan to handle it.”

Mr. Atkinson acknowledged her request with a nod. As he exited the room, Ashleigh rose and began her evening routine. Shortly after settling into her nightgown, a hesitant knock echoed on her door. It creaked open to reveal Mr. Atkinson and Susan, the latter nervously clutching a tray of food. The memory of Susan’s skepticism from earlier flashed in Ashleigh’s mind. Susan stood frozen at the threshold, only entering after a gentle nudge from Mr. Atkinson, who then closed the door behind them. Ashleigh perched on the edge of her bed, observing as Susan nervously arranged the meal. Once finished, Susan remained by the side, studiously avoiding eye contact. Ashleigh sensed the new assistant’s apprehension and decided, after a few bites of her meal, to alleviate the tension.

“Susan, tell me about yourself” she began, raising the fork with food to her mouth.

“Oh, Mrs. Ashleigh,” Susan stammered, launching into a nervous introduction. “I’m nineteen, almost twenty in a few months. I have two brothers and a mother, and we all live together in the south part of the city. Luckily, I was able to finish high school here.”

Ashleigh nodded, taking in Susan’s appearance. At 5’4″, Susan had a lean build that spoke of a life less privileged. Her short, black hair framed deep brown eyes that held a mix of apprehension and hope. This job was a lifeline, a chance to give her ailing mother and brothers a better life, and Susan was determined to make the most of it.

“That’s good,” Ashleigh said.

“What are your dreams for the future?”

“In high school, I was on the tech team, and I’d really like to study software engineering,” Susan replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“What if by working this job you don’t get to fulfill your dreams?” Ashleigh’s pointed question had momentarily thrown her off balance.

The worry in Susan’s eyes as she contemplated the possibility of dashed dreams made Ashleigh chuckle. She finished her meal, took a cleansing sip of water, and set the glass back on the tray.

“Relax, Susan, I was just teasing,” Ashleigh said with a light laugh. Relief washed over Susan’s face.

“You’re part of my team now, and I plan to reward your hard work. This position you hold is crucial, understand?”

Susan nodded, her apprehension slowly giving way to a sense of purpose. Ashleigh leaned back on the bed and continued,

“You’ll be my eyes, ears, and voice in this house. You’re my representative when I’m not here. Don’t let anyone disrespect you because of your age. Disrespecting you is disrespecting me, the lady of the house. You’ll take orders only from me. Not even Mr. Atkinson can give you instructions that contradict mine.”

Susan’s eyes widened slightly at the weight of responsibility being placed on her young shoulders.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll show you your duties. Be up by four; we start at five. You’re a full-time employee for me, answerable only to me for your needs and requests. Everything that happens in this house comes to my attention. You’ll work from five to nine pm, and before you leave, you’ll brief me on the day’s events no details left out. Is that clear?”

“It sounds like a lot,” Susan admitted, a flicker of anxiety returning. “But the more effort I put in, the greater the reward, right?”

“Exactly,” Ashleigh confirmed, standing up to stretch. “That’s all for tonight. Any questions can wait until tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Ashleigh,” Susan said politely as she collected the tray and exited the room.

The next morning, Ashleigh meticulously walked Susan through the mansion’s operations. She also informed Mr. Atkinson said that Susan would be his new point of contact for all matters related to her. Whether he’d relay this information to Adrian or not, Ashleigh didn’t care. Her focus was laser-sharp on work and study. The following days were a blur of intense activity. Textbooks became Ashleigh’s constant companions, their pages adorned with colorful highlights and scribbled notes. The evenings were filled with the quiet hum of online lectures. Dr. Brooks’s voice guiding Ashleigh through complex scientific concepts.

By the end of the first week, Dr. Brooks was impressed with Ashleigh’s progress. “Let’s move on to past exam questions,” she declared, arriving the following week with a stack of practice papers and a whiteboard marker. The air crackled with nervous energy as Ashleigh gazed at the daunting pile Chemistry, Biology, Physics, and Advanced Math, all staring back at her with relentless intensity. However, as they tackled the first problem set, a remarkable transformation unfolded. Ashleigh’s initial nervousness evaporated, replaced by a laser-like focus. Each day brought new challenges, but she met them with a determination that surprised even Dr. Brooks. The hours flew by in a whirlwind of explanations, discussions, and problem-solving. By the end of the second week, Ashleigh brimmed with a growing sense of accomplishment.

“Mrs. Cagliari,” Dr. Brooks remarked during their Friday session as they reviewed the final solved problem, “you possess a natural aptitude for science. You grasp concepts with remarkable speed and aren’t afraid to ask clarifying questions. With continued dedication, there’s no doubt you have a very good chance of achieving your dream.”

Ashleigh’s heart swelled with pride. This wasn’t just validation from Dr. Brooks; it was self-validation. Robin College wasn’t an impossible dream; it was a tangible goal. While Ashleigh immersed herself in her studies, she entrusted the day-to-day responsibilities to Susan. Over the past two weeks, Susan had blossomed, carving out a vital role within the mansion. As Ashleigh’s trusted right hand, she reported directly to Mr. Atkinson, often even assuming the lead when matters required Ashleigh’s direct attention. Meticulously following Ashleigh’s instructions, Susan provided detailed daily updates on everything that transpired within the mansion during Ashleigh’s work and study hours. Through these updates, Ashleigh learned that Mr. Atkinson had informed Adrian of Susan’s presence.

However, despite the news, Adrian hadn’t contacted her since that initial phone call. On one hand, she felt a strange sense of relief frequent calls would undoubtedly have complicated the situation with Susan. But on a deeper level, a pang of disappointment lingered. He hadn’t bothered to inquire about her preparations, a simple question that would have meant something. Every day, with a flicker of hope, she’d wait for Mr. Atkinson to arrive with the tablet, announcing a call from Adrian. But with each passing day, the possibility grew dimmer.

Another change swept through the household: Chef Larry took over the weekday and weekend menus. This shift stemmed from Chef Frank’s unfortunate bout of food poisoning, which landed him in the hospital. Larry, with his easy-going nature, quickly formed a friendship with Susan. The relationship between Ashleigh and Larry blossomed as well. He became her personal snack provider during outdoor study sessions, ensuring she had well-balanced meals before leaving for work in the mornings, and even occasionally joining her in these sessions.

One of these evenings, as Ashleigh was immersed in a physics textbook, there was a knock on her door.

She was mindlessly answering questions so she couldn’t be bothered with who it was so she called out, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, revealing Chef Larry. He carried a tray of snacks and, with a bright smile on his face.

“Is this a bad time?” he asked.

Ashleigh, surprised by his voice, looked up. “No, not at all. Come in.”