Mia's day started out so promising, so just what fly landed in her happy ointment? Maid to be a Man? Chapter 4 By Maid Joy

Mia and Angie cleaned up the mess the fashion show made in their room. Bags and tissue paper, boxes and tags were all combined into the smallest possible form and left near the indoor trashcan to be taken to the big cans tomorrow morning.

Angie looked truly happy helping Mia with putting away all the new clothes neatly. Mia was feeling a little guilty that she wasn't able to take Angie with her. But the chance of discovery with Angie in the same room with her was dangerous enough; it would have been even higher on a "mall crawl" like Angie seemed to want them to do.

"Angie, thanks so very much for the help tonight, and thank you for your suggestions. I don't have much experience in a mall down here."

"Oh Mia, that's why I wanted to help you. I know lots of places that are discount stores you aren't familiar with. I know that you aren't getting paid much here, and I had hoped to save you some money by going to a place like that. If you need a loan I can help you."

Mia was touched by Angie's offer. She couldn't tell her the truth. It would destroy their friendship and her new life. "It's OK Angie; fortunately I really don't need any money until pay day. Honestly. The only expenses were for casual clothes, and that's covered now by what I already had in the bank. I really don't need anything else that isn't covered by the budget. It will be ok, I promise."

They both finished their nightly grooming routines. Mia had to get some help from Angie since this was still very new to her. She got the lotions and exfoliants mixed up and finally asked for some assistance sorting the mess out. Angie was only too happy to help.

Eyebrow plucking done, masque on and off, deep moisturizer gently patted on, Mia was finally able to get into bed.

At about 3AM, Mia got quietly out of bed and went in to check on Mr. Gerome's email to see what he needed to take care of.

It was weird to sit in the darkness and look at a laptop screen with all this gook from the nighttime moisturizer on his face. He needed to become accustomed to a lot of things while playing this role.

It was a role to him. He knew that he wasn't really a servant in his own home, but it was exciting to see things from a perspective that he would never have experienced otherwise. He felt like Robin Masters in Magnum P.I. and he, frankly, loved the play-acting. It afforded him an opportunity to see how the remnants of Grandmother's empire handled things in the immediate absence of a person to tell them to wipe their asses.

The netbook finally bleeped telling Gerome that it had found the Internet and his email accounts. He went through them quickly deleting the spam, reducing the size of his inbox to 35 unread messages from 210. It's incredible the amount of people who come crawling out of the woodwork when you have some money.

Fifteen of the emails were simply something needing his "rubberstamp" to approve actions that the managers and Presidents needed take to keep the money rolling in. And to prove they are worth the money they get paid. Many of the emails were transcripts of different high-level meetings that he had to know about. He was able to speed-read through those without much trouble, imagining the people in his head.

Soon he was current on the major points of the businesses. He was well trained in what he needed to know about the businesses Grandmother had left him. He then turned his attention to the covert information being gathered for him.

He saw that, for now, the CEOs and Presidents were playing it straight. They were refraining from the temptation to engage in various versions of thievery or "five fingered discounts." The reports allowed him to relax and stop worrying until later, when it would be time to do it again.

He looked at the personal information his investigators had dug up on other key people in his employ, the people handling the money at various levels of the businesses. His accountant had some dirt in his past. It was a nice having the information in has possession. It allowed him to understand why Grandmother kept the man on such a short leash, and why he was so good at what he did.

Apparently spending 50 months in Danbury Minimum Security Prison did wonders for his attitude and allowed him the tools and the canniness he needed to actually find the trails of double entry bookkeeping, hard to spot but so necessary. It also made certain that he was willing to be a loyal drone since the questionable material that had been gathered was enough to put him away for much longer if it were discovered.

Well, Grandmother always said the best person to guard your money was a reformed thief, I guess this just proves it. The agreement with the accountant with grandmother was simple, for every $1000 of graft or theft he found in the various books, the accountant got a "bonus" of $100 over and above his normal salary. Gerome had absolutely no problem giving him the bonus or desire to change the agreement. It ensured that he would continue looking at the books with a microscope.

You had to love the classic "carrot and stick" approach to management. Give them what they want up front, and they will not nibble from the back. Just make sure that if they do try anything there's a HUGE trap that will kill them if they try and ensure that they see it. The Bag might have been a bitch, but she was a canny businesswoman.

He then turned his attention to the reports from the Estate Agent and his lawyer. The Agent reported no successful bids in the range he had set for the house. Gerome grimaced and accepted that. It just meant that the house would have to be on the market longer. He'd have to keep up appearances longer. The Agent was hopeful that the new set of prospects that were coming out today would be more willing to buy. The Agent further noted that the Asian corporate types tended to have more free cash as well as reasons for wanting to buy in America. Gerome approved her bringing them out to the house and showing them around.

His lawyer was another matter totally. Gerome knew that sleaze dripped off him like slugs leaving a slime trail. He was amazing navigating the corporate world and avoiding pitfalls that had destroyed several of his predecessors, The Bag kept this one around because of his survival skills. She felt if he could survive this long in a corporate shark tank he would protect her interests just as fervently as he protected his own.

Gerome hadn't missed the sleazy "I think we are going to be close" line he laid on Mia. It still made him shudder. He doubted that the ass would do anything directly like rape or trying to force her to sexually service him, but it was possible that he would try to do something with his "power" over her, especially since Mia was an alien with fake papers now.

Gerome thought it might be a good idea to find out just how the slimy piece of snot had come by all those documents so quickly. He sent a note off to his investigators.

He also went to the Canadian Government website and applied for a Social Insurance Number as Mia. She would need to have it if she was to prove she was a Canadian citizen. A few minutes later, he had her SIN (653 481 602), and a promise that she would get the SIN card in the mail.

Now she was a real person according to the Canadian government, he could see just how many of these documents presented to Mia were genuine and how many were fake.

Getting another two hours of sleep after her "Midnight Excursion", Mia got up early and washed the goop off her face. She did have to admit that it felt nice and made her skin feel tighter and smoother.

She took one of the exfoliating pads and scrubbed her face hard, making sure to do a good job on the "beard areas." She didn't have much of one. The hormones that were supposed to hit in puberty just hadn't really, Thankfully her body wasn't nearly as hairy as it could or should be as a result. So using one of the products hawked for removing leg hair seemed to help retard the growth of hair on her face nicely.

Then she started on her makeup. That's when she realized that it really HURT to put makeup on a raw face. REALLY hurt. She resolved never do that again.

She went for a light "workday" look, just some mascara in brown, a bit of eyeliner, a light foundation and lipstick in a nice peach. That was all that she would need today, if it came off it would be a quick fix since the point was to look like she wasn't wearing anything. She could always put more on later.

She got into her day uniform, corset - the works. It felt good to be dressed "properly" again. Next she checked the household email account to see if there was anything that she needed to know.

Normally at this point, there might be a reminder on the calendar for Mr. Gerome, but most often it was junk. Today there was a note from the Estate Agent that Mr. Gerome had hired.

In essence it said that she would be coming out with a set of new prospects and that they would be there at 10 AM and would be expected to stay until about 2 or 3 PM.

This changed Mia's plans for the day radically. She would have to do a quick tour of the house to make sure that it was visitor ready, then she needed to prepare a light lunch for them.

She woke Angie and said, "I'm sorry hon, I'm not going to be able to take you to the mall today. You'll have to go yourself. There's a group coming to look at everything and I have a lot of work to do."

Angie, to her credit, came awake quickly. "Mia, I'll take a different day off and help out. I can clean up ahead of you and the tour. It won't take anything for me to do it."

Mia smiled at her willingness. "Angie, you haven't had a day off in forever. You need today for yourself. The best help you can give me is to get this room ready for them to come through. I left a mess in the bathroom, and I don't have time to fix it. I need to do a quick walk through. Go to the Mall and tell Delores that I said 'hi'." She handed Angie a credit card. "This is the card I used yesterday and it will be all right if you charge things on it. Your personal clothes, however, you have to buy on your own. So make sure you take your purse too."

She glanced at the new chatelaine watch she got. "I've gotta get moving. Enjoy yourself honey." She gave Angie a quick peck on the cheek and took off.

Mia went through the kitchen like a "dose of salts" as grandmother would say. A Mia-shaped tornado that grabbed some "breakfast bars" shoving them into her skirt pockets as she raced to inspect the rest of the house. She went through each bedroom on the second floor to make sure they looked the best they could while quickly nibbling through the first one.

They had no guests, so none of these rooms had been used. They were inspection ready. Mia checked every bathroom and the suites as well, just to make sure. She went through the public areas of the house as well.

In quick order, Mia cleared them. She checked the fresh flowers and discarded the dead blooms. At 9:57 AM Mia was waiting beside the door to greet the new guests. There was a beautiful crystal pitcher of ice water and tumblers ready on a sterling silver tray.

The doorbell chimed three lovely notes and Mia opened the door and curtsied. "Welcome to the Bellwether Mansion. Won't you please come in?"

She stepped back, opening the door wider as she did.

Since the couple viewing the place were Asian she also bowed from the waist until her back was level to the floor, but rose quickly from the position.

The tour was long and thorough, covering every room, closet and staircase of the house. They even wanted to see the attics, the cellars, and servant's quarters. Mia was glad the rooms had been cleaned yesterday and silently thanked Angie for straightening their bedroom and bathroom.

The final stop on the tour was the housekeeper's office. There Mia brought refreshments as requested and bowed again. She would return when called by the realtor.

She stepped into the kitchen area and finished making several sandwiches for the guests, noting they had toured the house through lunch. Cucumber and Watercress, seared ahi tuna, imported prosciutto with fresh Buffalo Mozzarella and fresh basil were carefully plated and placed on the heavy silver serving tray. She added a selection of crudités. She would bring the tea service next. She picked up the tray and made her way back to the Housekeeper's office.

Once there, she politely interrupted their conference with a tap at the door. As soon as they stopped talking, Mia entered silently and pulled out a small tray table setting the tray on it. Bowing from the waist she said softly "Please accept this poor offering of humble food. I shall return with tea shortly. She brought a lovely silver service with English style tea and exquisite bone china. Bowing again she retreated to a corner waiting in case of need.

She was promptly ignored. One of the Asians spoke. "As I said, it is possible our information is not in balance. There is perhaps a reason that the property records for this house and grounds are taxed at eleven million dollars, not thirteen and a half? It distresses me that we are unable to offer more than at this time."

The agent looked pensive. "I am devastated that this is the case, however there are two issues here perhaps worthy of your consideration. The taxes are not always up to date for a correct evaluation. The data I have here will show that for a property of this size in any comparable market the thirteen point five million dollars is actually a conservative price. Additionally that does not take in updated and upgraded design that was just completed last month. It was designed to enhance the value of the historic character of the house and grounds while bringing it into the future with the most modern of conveniences by the current owner. You are not going to have do anything but bring your personal effects when you move in."

"The consortium I represent has decided to turn this property into a retreat for travelers. I believe you call it a 'bed and breakfast', although we plan to make it much more than that. This is why we don't need all of the extra houses and outbuildings, and we plan on having them torn down costing a great deal of time and expense. In addition to that, this property has been on the market for how long? About four months? And there are still some repairs to be done." He paused and took a mouthful of one of the sandwiches. Once he finished chewing and swallowing, he looked at his partner and said something in Japanese.

The other responded and they had a short conversation between the two of them. Mia was able to catch something about a teahouse or spa, and serving girls, but most of their speech was too rapid for her to understand.

When they finished speaking, the first gentleman turned back to the Estate Agent and said, "Yes, we have decided to place an offer of 11 million dollars for the entire property. This is a firm offer and you can take it to the owner."

The agent nodded her head. "Very well, I shall start the paperwork in my office and transmit the offer to the owner." They all stood, the Agent grabbing a sandwich as well. They turned to Mia.

She bowed to the Japanese gentlemen and thanked them for coming. They gave a short bow back to her, acknowledging her, but not according her any higher courtesy than any servant had. Mia then curtseyed to the Agent and led them all back to the door.

She curtseyed and bowed again and shut the door behind them. Eleven Million for all this property? What do they want? There's more here in HISTORY than that. Mia had a hard time keeping her temper at this moment.

I'm not being greedy here, and I'm not trying to get the absolute top of the market either. I want to get a fair price for my home. I've lived here nearly all my life, and I don't want it to become some developer's dream, tearing it down and making all kinds of changes. A SPA? Who do they think they are -- John Harvey Kellogg? Mia was angrier at the implication that all she had liked about this place would be destroyed by some well-meaning but idiotic foreign businessmen.

Then she stopped while walking past the room Grandmother used to use as her sitting room. She looked into the depths of that room and could almost see Grandmother sitting there.

Am I pissed because of what they could do, or am I pissed because this sale would end the greater part of my life? I mean, after all, while she was strict and sometimes abusive, she did try to do what she thought was best for me. She could have sent me to a boarding school instead of raising me herself after my parents died. She didn't have to keep me here.

Mia had to really think about that. She went in to the room and sat in the chair she used to sit in to listen to Grandmother's lecture for the day.

She'd probably have a hissy fit to see me dressed like this. Not only does it say that I'm a servant, one of the lowest servants at that, but she would faint at my being dressed up as a girl. Come to think of it, why AM I in a dress? She had no real answer to give.

At first, it had been fun playing dress up. While most of Gerome's childhood had been lessons and study, he had tried to play, not always successfully. Instead, he learned to discipline himself to do what was needed, when it was needed.

Was he a spoiled rich-kid? He didn't think so. He didn't have the normal distractions and addictions of his class. Certainly nothing to rival the déclassé excess of "Overboard" or "Spoiled Rich Kids." He didn't excessively shop for frivolities, didn't buy a new sports car and abandon it when it ran out of gas. But he didn't have any wants like that either.

Gerome understood how much things cost thanks to grandmother, and while he didn't penny pinch, he did keep look for quality bargains when it was time to spend. The label wasn't important, just how well it was made and how long it would last. That's why he still had his beat-up car, those Beetles just didn't quit.

But there were large parts of day-to-day living that he just didn't get. He understood more now since playing Mia than he had before. Things like scheduling time, actually doing physical work and how exhausted that makes you at the end of the day were all new to him.

He supposed that if he'd gotten a job at a fast food joint and he would have received the same education, but the dressing up was fun too. And truthfully it did feel right. Even though the clothes were heavy and warm, he liked the freedom a skirt gave him. It felt nice to have a petticoat brushing against his legs. Hearing it swish when he moved sounded right.

He wasn't stupid, just sheltered. He was learning that there was a segment of the population that got sexual satisfaction from being in another sex's clothing, but that wasn't him. It wasn't a sexual arousal but a feeling of rightness.

Did that mean he was really a girl instead? Would he go all the way and become a woman? He was sure that he was definitely unsure. That might be and option years down the road. Contemplating it while going to the kitchen to have some tea he decided there was no way he was interested in that now.

Truth be told, he liked being Mia. It wasn't just the clothing, although that was a nice part of it. It wasn't simply that he was working with his hands and actually accomplishing something, although that did give him a lot of satisfaction.

The expectations of him were not that high. That was a huge part of the whole package. The clothing, the working and seeing an accomplishment and now the fact that expectations were non-existent all combined to make him really, really happy.

His Grandmother had such high expectations for him that it hurt. He seemed to never be able to meet them and he felt her contempt ever time she looked at him. He hadn't realized yet that no one could have matched her expectations because they always increased. She had never truly beaten him, but in some ways that might have been better.

Now, the only expectations were that the bathrooms were clean. He had no one to impress, no one that was standing over him with a switch, and no one that was criticizing him while they watched him fail. Honestly, the relief was something he couldn't even express.

As he'd been trained, he grabbed a notepad and pen. He started making notes and thinking aloud. What he needed to do urgently was to decide for himself just what the hell he wanted.

He started with "Where do I want to be ten years from now?" Nothing came to mind, no goals no desires. It wasn't that he wasn't motivated; it was simply that aside from maintaining the money and the businesses, he knew nothing else to do. He had the money to go anywhere and do anything, and money could buy him time. Not having to live on Mia's earnings certainly helped.

Since he didn't have to get his "daily bread" by the sweat of his brow, he could actually do anything anyplace. He realized that he was incredibly lucky. What he did while pretending to be Mia was fine, and nothing else really needed to change. Truthfully, Mia and Angie could both stop working completely for a month or more, and there probably wouldn't be any visible difference, except for the dust.

Should he quit being Mia the Maid? Perhaps he could go on to become Mia the Businesswoman. Traveling around the country, using the knowledge that he had to buy and sell companies and just make more money. That could be a possibility later.

He looked over the page of notes that he had taken and decided that it was useless to try to make plans until he decided if he wanted to continue being Mia or not. He was happy as Mia, but there was nothing really preventing him from being just as happy as Gerome.

And there was always the final dictum of grandmother, heirs. Heirs to keep the money together and grow it even more. Children, don't have too many and when you married not too many living relatives for your spouse either. Gerome knew one thing for sure, THAT he was something he definitely wasn't ready for.