Page 15 of The Butler

My entire life I had dreamed of being so fabulously wealthy that I could shop at all the wonderful stores on Rodeo Drive. In Vegas we had amazing stores in the malls near the mega casinos, but I certainly couldn’t afford to shop in them. A kid raised in a double-wide needed to appreciate any new clothing item he received. Even those from Walmart. My parents had done their best, but working in the kitchens of casinos didn’t afford many luxuries. I never blamed my parents because I knew they worked hard. Dad hadn’t attended high school, but Mom had while barely escaping an abusive father. My only goal was an education that paid well and would afford me the ability to help them out. Even though they knew they wouldn’t be able to contribute to a college plan, they encouraged me every time I applied for aid. Seeing them admit to financial advisors that they were barely making it broke my heart. I had to succeed, no matter what.

I’d managed to receive partial assistance from Stanford because I was a 4.0 student with little means, and when you coupled that with an outrageous dollar amount of student loans, I was in debt but managed to receive my degree in Information Technology. I knew then that I would be able to get the kind of job that paid well and would allow me to help Mom and Dad. However, a devastating breakup and the fear that I was an over-educated fraud prevented me from using my degree. Even being in the top one percent of my graduating class didn’t convince me I wasn’t a lost cause. High-paying jobs were offered nonstop as I did my internships, but I’d accepted none of them. Being dumped by my professor and lover had destroyed me. I had the credentials, but what I didn’t have was the confidence after the breakup hit me squarely between the eyes. Maybe if he’d said our relationship had a shelf life I would have been better prepared, but that wasn’t how it went down.

“Meet my new TA, Mr. Dalton,”he’d said.“Thank you for your three years of devoted service, blah, blah, blah, but we’ll be moving young Kevin here into your role.”

Three years of service? Did he mean three years of servicing his cock? Three years of falling deeper in love? And,we’ll be moving young Kevin here into your role? What the hell?My role? You mean as your partner? Of course, Kevin was being prepped for that role as well. I wasn’t that stupid.

* * *

The phone on my bedside table rang. “Hello?”

“Can you come to the galley, please? Mr. Carrington’s meal is waiting for delivery to his room,” an unidentified female voice said.

“Right away.”

He’d said he was going to attend dinner in the dining salon. I wondered what changed? After retrieving the large tray of food I headed to the main suite and knocked.

“Please come in.”

I pushed the door in with my back and then turned to face him. “I have your evening meal, Linc,” I said.

He pointed to the dining table in the seating area, and I set the tray there. After almost leaving the room I realized I was expected to set the meal up and turned back. “Will you be eating now?” I asked. He set his book to the side and nodded. The food looked and smelled delicious, and I went about placing the tableware in the way I did when I served customers at the restaurant I worked at in between yachting gigs. “Wine with your meal?” I asked, standing at attention and feeling small in his presence. It was just the two of us and seemed odd somehow with all the pomp of attending to him.

“You feel uncomfortable, don’t you, Dek?” he asked.

“No. Of course not. I’m getting used to the situation, sir,” I admitted. “I will get better.”

“And remember, Dek, it’s Linc to you.” He stood and I pulled his chair out for him. He motioned to the plate of elegant food. “New chef. Shall we see if he’s worth the money?” he asked.

“It certainly looks terrific. I’ve been inside some fine establishments, and this looks on par,” I said. It felt good to have a topic I could actually feel confident discussing.

“And which of them were your personal favorites?” he asked.

“I meantworkedat. Notdinedat,” I corrected.Had I sounded flip?

He studied me for a moment. “You are direct, Dek.”

“I’m sorry. Do I come across as rude?” I asked. “My friends say I can act cold sometimes so I try hard not to be perceived that way.”

“You come across as sophisticated actually.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I do?”

“That and your use of the English language is… dare I say classy?” Now I really laughed out loud. “You find that humorous?” he asked.

“No disrespect, sir, but I reside in a studio apartment that is smaller than the bathroom in this extraordinary cabin. Classy is perhaps the wrong adjective.”

“See?” he asked. “Even your admission of your humble living arrangements sounded classy.”

“You’re teasing me now, sir.”

“Never,” he stated. “I would never presume to know anything about humility.” He motioned around the room with his hands. “Kind of tough to do when this is my life. Please sit with me.”

“Thank you, Linc, but I’ll leave you to your meal.”

“Please?” he asked. “I’m lonely and I enjoy our banter. Have you eaten yet?”

“I was advised to eat after your meal was served,” I said, unsure of whether to sit. I needed this job and Starr had warned me to be absolutely discrete and professional. “Please, sir. I need this job and I cannot afford to make mistakes. I’ll be available to clean up as soon as you require.”

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