Page 7 of The Butler

Starr stood and led me down the hallway where most of the crew bunk rooms were and opened the door to laundry, pulling me inside the tight surroundings. Her clandestine actions had me even more confused. She lowered her voice after closing the door. “Listen up, boo. The company email said the job pays three grand a week. I know you’re notreallyqualified, but you can do it and I know you need the money.”

“Three fucking grand?” I whispered, backing against the wall trying to get out of the camera’s range. “You did this for me?”

“And a personal tip from Mr. C. is not included in that dollar amount, Dek. David, his last butler, told me that Mr. C. gave him a ten grand tip for every week he worked directly for him.”

I needed the cash badly. The idea of making ten grand or more for a couple of weeks was all I could focus on. “I’ve never been a butler before. What all is involved with it?”

Starr jumped up and down, clapping her hands in excitement. “I knew you’d do it, Dek.” She gave me a hug and opened the door to the hallway. “Don’t worry. We have twenty-four hours to get you trained.”

CHAPTER SIX: Lincoln

“What’s the clothing plan, sir? Will you be needing black tie this trip?” Paul asked. Paul was my Malibu house manager and personal butler when I was in residence.

“No business clothes and no need for black tie, Paul. I’ll be alone most days and want to unwind.” I was on the deck of my home gazing at the Pacific Ocean that disappeared into the horizon. Paul had served my three o’clock gin and tonic and was now completing his list of tasks before I left for my scheduled two weeks on Action.

“Very well, sir.”

“Hey, Paul. Any reason you can’t accompany me on this trip?”

“Sir, you know very well that I do not have sea legs. I’d prefer to stay on terra firma if it’s acceptable to you, sir.”

Paul had been with me since my folks tragically died. He’d worked for them for decades and was very old school. However, nobody came more trusted or refined at their job. “Very well, Paul. I’m off to Lake Como after Cabo, so you’ll be there?” I asked. A seagull stood on the glass railing of the expansive deck asking me if I planned on finishing the cheese and crackers Paul had laid out.

“Of course, sir.” He paused, looking pensive. “May I ask you something, sir?”

“Of course. What’s up?” I asked, removing my sunglasses and giving my trusted aide my full attention.

“The retirement fund your parents set up for me in their will, sir,” he began. I tilted my head inviting him to continue. “Why did you add more than their trust specified this year?”

“Because I’ve known you my entire life and I value you, Paul.”

“You were too kind to have taken me in. I miss them, sir,” he said, breaking his usual professionalism. “You’ve been far too generous with me,” he added.

“I miss them too,” I said. “Listen, Paul,” I began. “I added a bit more this year because when you retire, which I hope is many years away, you deserve to never worry about money or your welfare.”

“An additional three million is not just a bit more. Your parents would be so proud of you, sir. Not for this, of course, but for how you’ve maintained their legacy with such class.”

“Thank you. Anything else, Paul?” I asked. I didn’t mean to be dismissive, but I didn’t like talking about my dead parents because their deaths reminded me of how alone I was.

“No, sir. I’ve ordered your town car for nine a.m. tomorrow, sir. The plane is being readied as well.”

“Very well,” I said, placing my sunglasses over my eyes. My cell phone vibrated on the glass-top table, so Paul made a discreet exit. It was Bob, my attorney, my everything.

I tapped the green button and selected the speaker. “Hey, Bob,” I greeted.

“The wire transfer was completed five minutes ago,” he said. “Troy took sixteen. I know you said give him fifteen, but I took the liberty to get him out of your hair.”

The fact was, I didn’t want Troy out of my hair. “That’s fine, Bob.”

“You ok, buddy?”

“No,” I answered. “One more thing, Bob. Contact Brock’s representation.”

“For what reason?” he asked.

“He will not be reprising his role in The Lethal Assassin. He’s priced himself out as far as I’m concerned.”

“You sure you want to do that, Linc? Him and Troy have threatened to go public with inside information.”

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