“Greer!” The moment she entered, there were people to greet her. Marta, the head cook, rushed out and showered Greer with air kisses. “Look at you! So pretty. Just like your mother.” Two of the elderly butlers came and hugged her as well, and it felt a bit like coming home.
“Hi, guys.” Greer hugged the staff, smiling at familiar faces and shaking the hands of new ones. “Good to see you all. How are things? Vader treating you well?”
Marta rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on her apron. “Look at you. Carrying in your own suitcase. Lucas! Take that upstairs for Greer. Put it up in the Yellow Room.”
The man named Lucas—young and very new to the staff—paused. “I think Kiki’s in the Yellow Room.”
“Dios mio,” Marta breathed, shaking her head. “One of your father’s new girlfriends.”
“I can sleep in one of the staff rooms. It’s no big deal.” She’d prefer it, really. No one ever tried to get into one of the staff rooms late at night, thinking there’d be a nubile Dutchgirl in the bed.
“I don’t like it,” Marta said with a frown, but waved Lucas ahead. “Your father, he’s got three girlfriends right now.”
“Three?” Greer wrinkled her nose and pulled up one of the stools near the main kitchen table. There were fresh vegetables all over the table, being cut into various shapes. She plucked a star-shaped wedge of cucumber off the pile and popped it in her mouth. “Let me guess. Blonde, busty, and under twenty-five?”
Marta crossed herself and nodded. “Your father definitely has a type. This time, it’s triplets. Bunni, Kiki, and Tiffi. All vegan.” She shook her head and picked up her knife, starting to chop again.
“Well, that sounds dreadful for you.” Marta loved working for Greer’s father, but her life got harder depending on the girlfriends in the house. If they didn’t eat the same things as Mr. Janssen, it meant more work for the kitchen.
Marta shrugged and began to chop another cucumber slice into a star shape. “At least they don’t eat a lot. But we’ve been cooking with a lot of tofu lately.”
“I’ll note that for the celebration party.” Tofu. Triplets. My, this was getting interesting already.
“If they’re still around by then,” Marta corrected, raising her eyebrows. “You never know with your father.” She bustled over to the oven.
Well, Marta had a point. Her father had never married and loved having an endless stream of new girlfriends. Some lasted a week, some lasted years. Rarely was there just one. Her father liked variety.
Which explained the triplets. Sort of.
“You’re just in time for lunch,” Marta said, opening the oven. “We’re having quinoa, spinach, and tofu loaf. I promise it’s better than it sounds.”
As Marta pulled the pan out of the oven, the smell of the food wafted into the air, and Greer’s stomach rebelled. She jerked to her feet and raced for the nearest bathroom, leaving behind a startled Marta and her helpers. Luckily, Greer made it safely to the toilet before she tossed her crackers.
When she was done puking her guts out, she oddly felt a lot better. So strange. Greer washed her face with a wet towel, rinsed her mouth, and returned to the kitchen.
Marta was eyeing her with a curious look. “You all right?”
She grimaced. “Stomach bug.” Her hand patted her waist. “Caught it a few days ago and can’t seem to shake it.”
Marta clucked and moved to Greer, putting an arm around her shoulders like a doting grandmother. “It’s good that you’re here. I’ll fix you right up. You go to your room and sleep and when you wake up, I’ll make you a nice warm soup and take care of you.”
Greer felt a rush of love for the old housekeeper. When she’d been a lonely child growing up, Marta had always had time for her, and made her special treats to let her know she was loved. Soup made by Marta would fix a million ailments, as would just spending some time in her warm kitchen. This was what she needed to reset all the feelings of misery and unhappiness from the last few weeks.
Going up to her room sounded good, but she hesitated. “I should probably say hello to Vader.”
“Pfft. He’s not even here. He’s on-site for a photo shoot.” She ushered Greer toward the back stairs that led to the staff rooms. “You go rest up and you call the kitchen if you need anything. Do you want some medicine?”
“I’m fine.” She kissed Marta’s cheek and gave her a smile. “It’s so good to see you again.”
The woman pinched Greer’s cheek as if she were a child. “Go rest.”
So she did. The staff rooms were small and plain, and the single bed she laid down in was laughably small compared to the palatial guest rooms upstairs. But she liked it better with the staff, always had, and she fell asleep right away despite having napped on the plane. She was home.
Several hours later, she woke up, feeling refreshed. Greer changed her clothes, pulled her hair back into her typical braid, put her glasses on, and headed downstairs for some of the soup she’d been promised. True to her word, Marta had made a batch of chicken noodle, but she insisted on serving Greer in the dining room. Greer was a Janssen, Marta explained, and she needed to be treated like one.
That was how she got to meet the triplets.
The dining room in the Dutchman castle seated twenty-four, because her father loved to entertain. The table itself was long and wooden, and the entire room was set up like a medieval dining hall, complete with massive fireplace at one end and pennants hanging from the ceiling. Crowded around one end of the table were three identical blondes noisily chewing salads. They looked over at her as she entered, but didn’t get up.
Greer sat down underneath the rose pennant, her “usual” spot when she was visiting. It also thankfully placed her at the opposite end of the table from the triplets. A moment later, soup and crackers was served to her, and Greer gave the staffer a grateful smile before picking up her spoon and tucking in.
She’d had about three bites of Marta’s delicious soup before the whispering started to get annoying.
“Is she one of the centerfolds?” asked one.
“Get real. Look at her.” This was accompanied by a snort.
Well, there went her self-esteem. Nothing like being home. She took another mouthful of soup.
“But why’s she here?”
“She’s not a centerfold,” said another. “She’s got no tits.”
“You can buy those!”
At that, she nearly choked on a noodle.
“A new girlfriend, then?”