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WHEN RAYNE SIMONEAUD saw the help wanted ad for housekeepers at Maison du St. Germaine, she couldn’t believe her luck. She hoped the position had flexible hours. She had one year left of school, but her bills were piling up. She filled out several job applications around town, but unless she wanted to work in a strip club or a bar, there weren’t too many night jobs. Maybe she would be able to get the hours she needed at Maison du St. Germaine.
As soon as she got out of class, she headed over and filled out a job application. She was hired the next day. She never imagined she would find a job that worked around her crazy class schedule. This year, she took extra hours to finish a semester early.
Rayne had worked at Maison du St. Germaine for over five months. She had never seen a lovelier hotel. The exterior of the hotel was framed with decorative wrought iron and several of the outer rooms also had wrought iron balconies. There was an elegant Victorian garden in the middle of the courtyard that had a cherub fountain in the center. The ambiance here was not only relaxing, but embraced the culture of Louisiana, more specifically New Orleans.
The rooms had absorbed centuries of sounds, smells and emotions of the guests. She considered it an honor to work in this hotel. Despite the fatigue settling into her body, she was anxious to get to work. She loved meeting the various guests that came through these doors. There had been a few that looked down on her, but most guests sincerely wished to share their experiences while visiting this historic city. She loved hearing first hand what people thought of Bourbon Street, the various voodoo shops around town, the haunted tours, the coffee and especially the food.
The hotel was located near the French Quarter. She wondered if the owner had known how popular this area would be back then. Regardless, it was in a prime location because it wasn’t far from the tourist spots. Everything she loved about New Orleans was in walking distance from here. It saddened her when she thought of what was destroyed when Hurricane Katrina hit this region. There had been so much devastation and loss of life. New Orleans was coming back to life, though, and it still had not lost its mystique and intrigue.
She’d heard rumors that the hotel was haunted, but, as of yet, she had not witnessed any hauntings; however, it wouldn’t surprise her. If only these walls could talk about the scandals they must have witnessed over the years.
Since working here, she had yet to see the penthouse floor. From what the others said, it was gorgeous. None of the other girls liked to clean that room, though. They said it was always left a mess when they departed. She heard that the only people allowed to stay there were members of the St. Germaine family. Surely someone as rich as this family wouldn’t leave the room in complete disarray. When she worked the late night or early morning shift, she noticed a lot of activity going to that floor. She knew better than to ask questions. That could be dangerous in a city such as New Orleans.
While arranging her cart, Mr. Milton, the night manager, walked over to her. She let out an inward groan, “Mr. Milton is there something I can help you with?”
“I just got word that Mr. St. Germaine will be coming to the hotel for an early morning meeting. I need you to go up to the penthouse and make sure that it is clean and orderly before he comes in. I am sure that you are aware that Mr. St. Germaine likes his privacy; I need you to get in and out.”
The penthouse took Rayne's breath away. Never in her wildest imagination did she think it would look like this. Unlike the other hotel rooms, it had wood floors that reflected the light from overhead crystal chandeliers that ran throughout the room.
French provincial furniture was expertly placed throughout. The master bedroom had a king size bed that she could get lost in. The master bath was larger than her small apartment.
This place reminded her of when she went to a wealthy person’s house to pick up their ironing. Growing up, Rayne's mom would take ironing in at night to earn extra money. The only problem was that her mother had to drive to each of their houses to pick up the laundry.
Rayne’s momma did the best she could. Being a single mother was hard enough, but having a mulatto daughter in New Orleans could prove to be extremely difficult. Rayne’s momma never would tell her the name of her father. When her mom told her grandmother of her pregnancy, she kicked her out of the house and told her never to come back.
Rayne was studying to become a doctor. She’d inherited her mother’s natural instincts as a traiteur. Her mother beamed with pride when she told her that she wanted to be a healer, as well, but Rayne wanted to do this on a more professional basis. She already decided she would open a private practice and not worry if her patients could pay. She would do just like her mother and accept cash or trade. To her, this profession was about healing and not making money.
She looked around the well decorated room, relishing in the things money could buy. The remaining two bedrooms had the same style French provincial furniture. The beds in the suite were canopied. Making sure that no one was here; she lay down on one of the spare beds. It was complete luxury. So this was how the other half lived, she thought to herself. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself as a princess.
Shaking herself out of her dream world, she got off of the bed and started cleaning. Looking around, she realized the others were right. Mon Dieu, whoever had been here last had no respect for the beauty of this place. Strewn about were empty liquor bottles and cigar ashes everywhere.
***
DOMINIC HAD THE BEGINNINGS of a migraine and wanted to rest before his next meeting. As Dominic entered his room, he noticed the young woman busy cleaning the penthouse floor. She must be a new hire. He had not seen her face before.
Startled, she gasped when she saw him. Their gazes locked and he felt an immediate attraction to her. She had the most mesmerizing eyes, they were a unique shade of green.
“I am sorry, sir. I was told that you wouldn’t be here until later this afternoon.”
He waved his hand in the air, “Finish what you are doing. I came earlier than originally planned.”
As she hurried to finish up and be out of his way, he imagined what it would be like to have her in bed. The nondescript housekeeping uniform could not hide her voluptuous curves. His hands itched to undress her and see if her body was as beautiful as he imagined.
He shook his head. The way the woman carried herself led him to believe she would not appreciate the way his lustful thoughts were turning.