Housemaid Hannah (closed for The_gladiator)

[SalaciousASD]

@The_gladiator

Hannah, 27 - 5'5", 180 pounds, wavy dark auburn hair, light, freckled skin, hourglass figure - was working at the nation's largest philanthropic nonprofit since she was an undergraduate. She'd devoted the last 6 years of her life to creating engaging, heart-wrenching stories about the families that used the nonprofits resources to pull themselves out of dire situations.

Today, though, was her last day. She had been accepted into a combo Masters/PhD program which started in a few weeks. As much as she loved her work, she wasn't allowed to get as close to the families the organization helped fund. She mostly sat at a desk - she wanted to be on the ground, which required an entirely different kind of training.

The time has flown the past two weeks since she turned in her resignation letter - one which the big boss man was hesitant to sign, apparently. Hannah never really got one-on-one time with the Executive Director. He was a mysterious figure to her, aloof but so charismatic when he needed to be - like when the whole team would have congressional meetings on Capitol Hill. That's where he shined, but back in the office he disappeared. Hannah's direct superior, Helen, said that was the mark of a true leader. Give your people direction, then leave them alone and let them get their work done since they know their job best.

Speaking of, as Hannah is packing up her desk, she looks up to see Helen walking towards her with a smile.

"The Executive Director would like to see you in his office before you go," she whispers, barely stopping before rushing over to another coworker to confirm some dates.

Me? She thinks. He's never once wanted to talk to me in his office...but ok. Hannah stops in the bathroom first, making sure everything's in place and she looks as professional as she did this morning. She retouches her blood red lipstick and walks down the long hallway and up two flights of stairs to the Executive Suite, knocking firmly on the door.

 

[The_gladiator]

The door was still closed when the shouting started.


“I don’t give a damn what her attorney drafted, Mike. You tell Ashley she gets the settlement we already signed and not one more goddamn cent. The buck stops somewhere. You stand for something or you fall for anything, and I am done falling.”


A pause. The leather chair creaked.


“No. I said no. File it. I’ll see you Monday.”


The receiver hit the cradle harder than it needed to. Major David Cooper—retired, forty-five, Executive Director of the largest veterans’ philanthropic outfit in the country—sat still for three full seconds with his eyes closed. He rolled his shoulders once, the way he used to before a patrol brief, and exhaled through his nose. The start of a belly pressed against the belt of slacks that had fit better two years ago. Weekend basketball with the support-group guys kept it from winning outright; the rest of the week the desk won.


He opened the folder in front of him. Hannah’s resignation letter sat on top, his signature already on the line. The desk itself was solid wood, not showy, the kind of furniture a position required so donors and congressmen didn’t think the organization was run out of a folding table.


He stood, walked to the door, and opened it himself.


“Come in, Hannah.”


He waited until she crossed the carpet and sat, then closed the door and took his own chair again. The city was behind him through the glass. He no longer looked like the man he had been at her age. That version had been all sharp edges and ruck-ready muscle. This one still had the chest and the shoulders, but the years, the divorce, and the desk had changed the rest. Dark hair going salt-and-pepper at the temples, a face that still photographed well for the Hill but had started to look tired in the mornings.


“Helen said you were packing up. I wanted to speak with you before you left the building.” He tapped the folder once with two fingers. “I signed this this morning. You’re a hell of a writer. The stories you put together are the reason half our major donors still pick up the phone when we call about burn units and service dogs and the men who come home and don’t know how to sit in a quiet room. The organization is going to feel it when you’re gone.”


He turned the folder so she could see the second sheet underneath the resignation.


“I keep a house outside the city. Too much house for one person since the divorce. I need someone living on the property who can keep the place from turning into a bachelor monument—meals, laundry, the rooms, letting the cleaning service in when they’re scheduled. Light work. Flexible around a graduate schedule. Room and board.”


He said it like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.


“If it works out, you could apply for a stipend on top of that. That part would require additional duties. We’d negotiate those if and when we get there. For now it’s just the house.”


He sat back.


“That’s the offer. You can take the weekend to think about it, or you can tell me now if you want the address.”

 

[SalaciousASD]

He's offering her a job? She didn't think he knew who she was, but she's glad to know her storytelling had made an impression. Her future journalism PhD certainly relied on that.

She watched his stern face as he made the offer. She didn't even know he was married, let alone divorced.

Room and board, light work so she could focus on her studies. It would take longer to get to classes if she lived outside of the city, though. Right now it's a 20 minute subway ride to campus. She'd need to buy the more expensive rail pass and work in more time into her commute. Her brain was quickly calculating the offer...since she did need a job in some capacity, the going rate for PhD students, even at this prestigious university, was barely enough to cover rent.

She did secretly enjoy the idea of living in a huge house...which she assumes he would have, being the Executive Director, especially since the place she's in now is a tiny studio apartment. It's in the best neighborhood, sacrificing space for safety and aesthetics.

"I do have questions..." she started, trying to match his matter-of-factness.

"Would you need me to work a little every day or could I devote some entire days to the house and some entire days to my courses? I have classes 3 days a week and the commute would be longer if I live outside the city."

"How much is the pay and is it hourly or a flat rate for a predetermined amount of tasks?"

"Would I just get a bedroom, is there a suite where I'd have my own bathroom as well. Just for privacy's sake..." her voice falters just a little, wondering what her own personal living arrangements would look like. She also wondered how often he'd be home...but doesn't ask that question.

If she was curious about him before because he was never around...she was absolutely gagged that she could be living in his home if she agreed to.

She waited for answers before letting her mind wander anywhere else.

 

[The_gladiator]

He nodded once, like he was checking items off a list he’d already written in his head.


“Daily expectations are simple. Mail comes to the box at the end of the drive. You bring it in. Coffee and a light breakfast on the mornings I’m in the house—eggs, toast, fruit, whatever’s in the kitchen. That’s every day I’m there. The rest of it—laundry, rooms, letting the service in, running the place so it doesn’t look abandoned—you work around your class schedule. I’m not putting a time clock on you.”


He tapped the folder again, then sat back.


“You’d have your own room in the guest wing. Full bath attached. Door locks. Room and board isn’t hourly. I cover the mortgage, the utilities, and I buy the food. You eat what I eat. You’d have use of one of the cars so you’re not stuck out there. I’ve got a Cadillac that mostly sits. That work for you, or do you need something smaller?”


He let that sit for a second.


“If there are other things you need—tuition gap, books, whatever—we talk about additional duties and a stipend. Not automatic. For example: some nights I’m home I still pay a chef to come in because I don’t want to cook after a long day. You cook those nights, I spend less on him, you pick up extra. Same with the lighter cleaning between the deep-clean service. You take that on, it can go toward the stipend. We negotiate the list and the number when you know what you actually need. Until then it’s the house, the room, the board, and the car.”


He watched her.


“Questions, or do you want the address and a weekend to look at the place before you decide?”

 

[SalaciousASD]

She had done a fair amount of house cleaning/organizing when she was in undergrad for extra cash. Nothing as fancy as Major Cooper's place, with a "guest wing" and all. Mostly she was hired by sororities and frats to clean their houses, (she was propositioned and looked down upon the entire time but she went home with wads of cash, so, screw them.) She was fairly OCD so sprucing up living spaces felt relaxing, therapeutic, even, making sure everything was in its place. She watched those before and after cleaning videos on instagram for fun...

Did Major Cooper know that about her? She had house-cleaning on her resume a long time ago when extracurriculars during college actually mattered to employers but she didn't think she'd shared that info here...but maybe....she had worked here for a long time, after all. Or did she and her desk here scream OCD? It probably did.

"Ah great, thank you, you've answered everything," she smiles, hesitantly. She wouldn't have the expenses of rent, food or car insurance, sure, but she'd still need money. She had a bit saved up for the near future..so if she does say yes, she'd just do the basics of house-keeping while she settled in and got used to this entire new arrangement, her PhD program and caring for his home. This was certainly the complete life change she'd been envisioning when she turned in the 2 weeks notice.

"Yes, I would like to see the property before I agree to it, but...I do think, based on what you've described, the position as it stands would be beneficial for me in the immediate future. I am glad to know there are opportunities to make more as well, if...if I do the job to your satisfaction," she nods.

"Is this weekend a good time to come by? Or do you need me to start as soon as possible?"

It was Thursday. Originally, she wanted a long weekend since she hardly took vacation time but she was also fully content to start working sooner, especially if that meant seeing the mysterious Major Cooper's house. Plus, she loved having work to do. She famously didn't know how to relax.

 

[The_gladiator]

He gave a short nod, like the details were settled enough for now.


“You can start whenever you’re ready. This week, next week—doesn’t matter as long as I know when to have the room made up. If you want a ride out to see the place this afternoon, I’ll take you. Fair warning: I only brought the Harley today. Sunshine like this, I wasn’t sitting in a cage.”


He stood and reached for the jacket on the back of the chair.


“Rosa’s making lasagna tonight. If you want to stay for dinner after you look at the room, you’re welcome. No obligation. You can follow in your own car another day if the bike’s not your thing.”


He waited, keys already in his hand.

 

[SalaciousASD]

She didn't have a car, so, bike it was.

"Bike will do," she nods, too embarrassed to tell him she doesn't have a car or know how to drive. She never needed to learn since she walked and bussed everywhere. His Cadillac would stay in his garage for now. She'd figure out a train route once she knew where his house was exactly. Hopefully he lived within walking distance of one...

She'll have to leave her box of belongings here if she was leaving on a bike....with Major Cooper. She'd tell Helen to hold onto it until she could come back.

She didn't say yes to dinner just yet, but she will willing to bet she'd want to stay out of pure curiosity. She rises from the chair and follows him out - not yet concerned about how she'd get back to her apartment later in the night.

 

[The_gladiator]

He opened the office door and stood aside.


“Go say goodnight. And goodbye. I’ll be in the garage in ten minutes. Take your time. A lot of people are going to miss you.”


He did not add that he would have been one of them. That was half the reason he had set this up. He wanted to know her better. So much better.


He stopped at his assistant’s desk on the way down, voice even, like any other Thursday.


“Call about the grant. I want a status before Monday.”


Then he kept walking.


Ten minutes later he was in the reserved spot with the Harley, black and chrome, digging in the saddlebag for the spare helmet. He pulled the protective leather jacket on over the suit. People could mock it. The weight of it still felt like the embrace of a lover, that familiar.


When she appeared he held the helmet out to her.


“I didn’t bring a spare jacket, but at least you won’t get a concussion. You ridden on one of these before?”


He swung one long leg over the bike and held it in place with strong thighs so she could climb on behind him.

 

[SalaciousASD]

She says goodbye to the folks still in the office. They'd thrown a party for her yesterday so today was just wrapping everything up and quiet goodbyes with her team. She only shed a few tears, but laughter and promises to stay in touch replaced them quickly.

She made her way down to the garage and found Major Cooper gearing up.

She takes the helmet that he offered her, responding before she straps it on. "Yeah, my...ex, had a bike. A shitty one. And he purposefully rode dangerously when id ride with him 'as a joke'," she recalls with a twinge if anger. "Pre-apologies if I hang on too tight, force of habit. Though that was years ago and I doubt you drive wrecklessly."

She proceeds tot ry to get in the back of the bike without touching him but quickly realizes she needs to put her hands on his shoulders for support. She kicks her leg over and settles in, not now knowing what to do with her hands.

 

[The_gladiator]

He reached back without looking and found her wrists, guided her hands around his waist and set them there.


“Lean the way I lean. Don’t fight me on the steering and we’ll get along fine.”


The engine turned over, low and even.


“Right now I’m just David. Not your former employer. Not your future one. Just an old soldier on a motorcycle because I’ve got more guts than brains and a need for speed. In these moments I have a name. It’s David. I’d like it if you used it sometimes.”


He toggled the radio and suddenly she could hear him in the helmet.


“I won’t object if you talk dirty to me while I drive. I’m just not quite in the pants for it. Everyone will see. Speaking of exes, and the things they used to do to us on motorcycles. Though I venture to say that what my ex-wife did was more fun than the stunts your ex used to pull. I’m a pretty safe driver, at least on this bike. It’s a classic I rebuilt with my father before he died, so I don’t plan to wreck this one if I can help it.”


He walked the bike out of the garage and opened it up once they cleared the ramp.

 

[SalaciousASD]

Her eyes goes wide when he reaches behind him, grabs her wrists and makes her arms circle around his waist but she settles against his back as he explains how to be a good "backpack," a term she was used to from riding with her ex.

She simply nods when he asks for her to call him David... She only heard one person ever call him David and that was a Senator that had served with him in their military days. Now she was being asked to call him by his first name? That's ...well...endearing in some weird way, she thought.

She didn't have a chance to think about "David" as endearing for too long before he mentioned talking dirty with his ex wife, which made her choke out one loud nervous chuckle in her helmet as he kept talking, mentioning he rebuilt the bike with his dad.

Major Cooper, er, David, took off as soon as they left the garage, Hannah tightening her grip around his waist and immediately leaning with him as he took a hard left through a light that has just turned yellow. She wind caused her skirt to billow out around her but luckily enough of it was pinned between their bodies as to not flash everyone on their way to Major Cooper's house. She simply enjoyed the constant rush of fresh air that was sneaking it's way in up the sides of her thighs.

She kept her arms tight around him, taking in the slow scenic change from cars and pedestrians to houses with actual yards and long stretches of trees until he turned down a long, oak lined driveway to his, indeed, very large house.

 

[The_gladiator]

He had always liked riding. There was something relaxing about it. He’d spent too many years as a grunt driving heavy trucks, or worse, riding in the back of them. He valued the open air.


She was a good sport in a skirt. He could feel it flutter against his legs. She never complained. She was a good rider too—not hanging on so tight he couldn’t breathe, not loose enough to make him worry she’d slide off. At one point he took a hand off the bar and patted the small hands at his waist. Reassurance. And because he wanted to touch her. He could admit that much to himself in the quiet of the helmet.


He rode in silence a while, then clicked the built-in radio. Smooth southern rock filled both helmets. He silently thanked his nephew for that trick. The kid was a tech guru. David was glad of it.


City gave way to suburb, then the oak-lined drive.


“Gotta schedule the leaf removal,” he said over the comm. “And think about opening the pool for summer.”


Filling time. It still felt right.


He rolled into the circle and killed the engine. He held the bike until she climbed off, then pulled his own helmet and smiled.


“You can already smell Rosa’s lasagna. Guest wing is to the left. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’ve had a look around.”

 

[SalaciousASD]

Hannah hopped off the bike once Major Cooper, David, shut it off. She'd quite enjoyed holding onto him the past 30 minutes. He was an exceptional driver, and a reassuring one (which was different for her) but promptly removed herself for fear of lingering too long.

She definitely smelled the lasagna, and wondered how David was as a boss. Maybe she could ask Rosa a few questions before she made her final decision.

She followed David inside, watching his tall frame fill the doorway. Instead of following him, she slowly takes the left turn to the guest wing, staring in awe as she moved. It was a grand home, no doubt, her sense of smell telling her than the kitchen would be straight ahead where David disappeared, once you make your way past the grand foyer. She went where she was directed first to find where she would be staying were she to accept David's offer.

She didn't dare touch anything as she wandered. The house was quite tidy and sparse, some art on the walls but no rugs or decor to speak of, making her wonder why he needed help at all. Maybe cleaners had just left. Or maybe the guest wing was left bare because no one lived on this side...yet. She could see herself here. Long walks under the oaks. A pool, he mentioned. She imagined the back yard would be even bigger than the front. She was unaccustomed to this much space, this much fresh air, but it already felt serene.

She found a bedroom with a bathroom attached. Spacious, bigger than her entire apartment and then some. She sat on the bed for a moment and closed her eyes. Opening them again through the lens of making it her own, if she was allowed to. She painted in her free time, though work at the nonprofit didn't give her much of that. Maybe she could find time in this...new arrangement.

Checking her watch, she figured she'd spent enough time looking around, and floated towards the smell of lasagna.

 

[The_gladiator]

David headed through the entranceway into the kitchen, swatted Rosa on the bottom as he passed, and slung the jacket onto a chair.


She brandished a wicked-looking knife and chewed him out in Spanish. He didn’t catch all of it. He was too busy laughing.


“You are incorrigible, Mr. Cooper, sir. That jacket does not go there. Have I taught you nothing in ten years? Now you go hang it up properly before I chop off something you might miss and feed it to the goats.”


That ominous threat and his laughter still in the air, he went and hung the jacket in the hall closet. He washed his hands next, before she could add that to the list of sins.


“Miss Ashley was here again today, Mr. David. She was asking for money, and something about photos you need to delete. You’d better not have any photos of her.”


He did. He was not having that conversation with his chef.


“She’s just stirring up trouble, Rosa. She knows pictures would offend you, so she used that.”


“They do all this revenge porn. When I was your age I thought nothing of flashing my breasts for free drinks or favors, but now, with everyone having a camera, I’m not sure I’d show them to God himself.”


“You’re still quite the attractive woman, Rosa.”


“You can stop right there, mister. I will not be showing you my titties.”


“Thank God I didn’t ask then.”


They laughed. Their relationship was strange. It worked.


“You just going to stand there or you going to get plates, mijo?”


He reached into the cabinet.


“I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”


“Looks like you’ve got a younger model you brought with you. Manage you would.”


“I know you’re busy with your grandkids, Rosa. I thought some additional help would be nice.”


“Right you are, Mr. David. I just don’t like to see someone else take care of you. What if they do it wrong?”


“Then I’ll hire you to teach the new people to do things your way.”


“Right you are then.”


She smiled and dumped the last of the carrots into the salad.


“So does she eat lasagna?”


“I hope so. We’ll ask her when she’s done touring the guest rooms.”


Soft steps in the hall. He set the plates down and looked toward the doorway.


“There she is. Hannah—Rosa. Rosa—Hannah. Sit if you want. Lasagna’s ready. You don’t have to stay. I’ll run you back whenever you say.”

 

[SalaciousASD]

Right as she was gazing through the window of the guest bedroom that oversaw the rolling hills and gardens of the backyard, she heard someone getting chewed out in Spanish. She assumed Rosa was Hispanic based on her name but that confirmed it. She understood the curse words that were being thrown around and laughed to herself. She was bilingual, growing up in with an Ecuadorian mother and a good ol' southern boy father. Hearing Spanish being yelled through the halls instantly made her feel more at home. Hannah was white passing, so it always shocked people who came into the nonprofit who couldn't speak much English which she instantly switched to her Latina roots.

Hannah walked towards the lasagna and the Spanish, seeing David setting the table and Rosa at the kitchen island as she cleared the foyer. She headed towards Rosa first, "Buenas tardes Senorita Rosa, con mucho gusto," she said, giving her the customary latino greeting, a hand on the other's elbow, then leaning in for one kiss on the cheek.

Rosa returned the greeting and went back to preparing the remainder of dinner.

"I'll stay," she smiled, turning to David, as she walked to the table, her skirt swaying as she scooped it under herself to sit down.

She watched David and Rosa interact a bit more, the way he smiled and laughed with her and the way Rosa scolded him, jokingly, was .... unexpected. She'd never witnessed THIS David, allowing someone to boss him around. But then again, she didn't really have many Major Cooper interactions to go off of - she's just suddenly in his house. It was heart-warming, like she was being let in on this little secret family. She felt rather touched that she'd been invited in to see this slice of his life.