It was no accident that Teresa Gregory secured a position as maid to Mathew and Laura Connelly - she planned it that way. She asked around, found out which temp agency the Connellys used, signed with that agency, and then waited her turn. Word was that Laura Connelly went through maids like water, and Teresa didn't expect it to be very long before the agency sent her there. The American wealthy favored pretty girls with British accents, and she was certainly all that. As it turned out, she was not offered the position until two weeks before she was due to return to England.
The agency carefully explained the Connelly situation to her, and it soon became clear - the reason the Connellys couldn't keep a maid was because Laura was a drunk and Mathew was a letch. The position required fulfilling Mrs. Connelly's needs, doing laundry, cleaning, serving meals, answering the phone, and keeping the Connelly's social calendar up-to-date.
The agency didn't say anything about fulfilling Mr. Connelly's needs.
It was early morning when Teresa arrived at the wealthy gated community on Chester Street in Denver. She got out of the taxi at the gate, was let in by the security guards, and walked up the street. There were several houses facing the circular drive, but according to the internet map, the sprawling, two-story, Federation style mansion in the middle belonged to the Connellys. It had a four-car garage and a limousine, complete with a driver, waiting in the wide driveway. The expansive lawn was well cared for, and was bordered with rose bushes that gave off their sweet aroma.
Carrying a small bag, she walked up the drive to the front door, nodded to the waiting driver, rang the bell, and was let in by a middle-aged woman who introduced herself as Eleanor.
"I am the cook, and my husband, Mark, does odds and ends, and drives the Connellys' limo," Eleanor explained, as she led Teresa to a bedroom located on the bottom floor just beyond the indoor swimming pool. "Mark and I have the room next to yours. You can knock on the wall if you need help."
"Will I need help?" Teresa asked.
"I hope not. Mr. Connelly ain't here much, and when he is, you best just stay out of his way."
"I see." Teresa set her bag on the bed and looked around. It was a comfortable enough room, especially for her purposes. It had a bed, an easy chair, a table, and a television on a stand. The door, she noticed, had a deadbolt on the inside.
"There's an elevator for when Mrs. Connelly can't make it up the stairs." Eleanor took hold of the doorknob. "You hungry? The Connellys don't eat breakfast, but I'd be pleased to make you up something."