Amara's Friendliness Towards The Staff At Home
1451 Words
After Ethan left that morning, the house felt too still , like the silence that follows laughter, or the calm after a storm. The breakfast table was cleared, the silverware polished, and the faint scent of coffee still lingered in the air.
Amara stood by the huge glass window in the living room, her reflection staring back at her against the sunlight. Beyond the window, the garden gleamed, manicured lawns, trimmed hedges, and a marble fountain that glittered as water cascaded in delicate arcs. She sipped from her half-empty glass of juice and let out a soft sigh.
It was beautiful impossibly beautiful but a little too quiet for someone who’d grown up in a neighborhood where you could hear neighbors chatting, children shouting, and matatus honking even at sunrise.
She missed that sound, the hum of ordinary life.
After another moment of stillness, she decided she’d had enough of being idle. Ethan had insisted she didn’t need to lift a finger, but she couldn’t just sit and stare at luxury all day.
So, she began wandering around.
The mansion stretched far beyond what she’d explored the night before a series of gleaming hallways, rooms filled with expensive art, and the faint scent of jasmine from diffusers placed neatly on every corner. Her bare feet padded softly across the cool marble as she followed the sounds of faint chatter and laughter echoing from one of the corridors.
When she reached the open kitchen, she found several members of the household staff at work.
A woman in her fifties with a soft round face was standing by the stove stirring something aromatic in a silver pot. A younger man was polishing glasses while humming under his breath. Another woman folded napkins with the kind of precision that looked almost artistic.
They didn’t notice her at first.
Amara leaned against the doorway, smiling slightly. There was something warm about watching people work,the rhythm, the teamwork, the unspoken communication between them.
“Morning,” she said gently.
All three turned around, startled for a second then the older woman broke into a broad smile.
“Oh! Good morning, Miss Amara,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “We didn’t hear you come in.”
“That’s my fault,” Amara said with a small laugh. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting at all,” said the young man. “We’re just cleaning up after breakfast. Can I get you anything? Juice? Tea?”
Amara shook her head. “No, thank you. I already had some earlier. I just wanted to see how things work around here.”
The older woman chuckled. “Ah, you’re curious! I like that. I’m Mrs. Kendi, I’m in charge of the kitchen and meals. This here is Joel, the driver and sometimes assistant chef when he’s not out driving. And that quiet one folding napkins is Ruth, our miracle worker with decorations.”
Ruth gave a small smile, her hands never pausing. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Amara waved off the “ma’am” with a soft chuckle. “Please, just call me Amara.”
Mrs. Kendi raised an eyebrow but nodded. “All right, Amara. Though if Mr. Ethan hears me calling you that, he might give me a look.”
They all laughed.
Amara moved closer, glancing into the pot on the stove. “That smells heavenly. What are you cooking?”
“Soup for lunch,” Mrs. Kendi said proudly. “Cream of pumpkin with a touch of ginger. It’s Mr. Ethan’s favorite. You’ll like it too.”
“It already smells like I will,” Amara said with genuine admiration.
Joel grinned. “You know, Mrs. Kendi has been here since before Ethan took over the company. She basically raised him on her cooking.”
Mrs. Kendi swatted at him with a towel. “Don’t exaggerate. He was already a grown man when I started here.”
“Still,” Joel teased, “you’re the only one who can make him eat vegetables without complaining.”
Amara laughed softly. “That sounds exactly like him.”
The staff chuckled, and in that moment, something shifted. The initial stiffness that came with being “the boss’s girlfriend” began to fade. They spoke to her more easily, asking gentle questions, where she was from, if she liked the mansion, whether she cooked.
“Oh, I do,” she admitted shyly. “But nothing fancy. Mostly simple food rice, beans, chapati. Sometimes ugali when I’m really hungry.”
Mrs. Kendi clapped her hands, delighted. “Then we’ll have to let you cook for us one day. I’d love to taste your food.”
Amara’s eyes widened. “Me? Cook here?”
“Of course! Why not?” Mrs. Kendi said warmly. “You’re part of this household now. It’s not about who’s rich or who’s staff it’s about family.”
The words hit Amara right in the chest. For a moment, she didn’t trust herself to speak.
Family.
She hadn’t expected to find that here in this palace of glass and marble.
After a few more minutes of conversation, she followed Ruth to the dining area, where fresh flowers were being arranged in a vase.
“These are lovely,” Amara said, touching one of the soft petals.
“They’re from the garden behind the house,” Ruth replied. “Mr. Ethan likes having them changed daily.”
“Daily?”
Ruth nodded. “He says they remind him that everything beautiful takes care.”
Amara smiled faintly. That sounded like Ethan disciplined, exact, but quietly romantic beneath it all.
They continued chatting as Ruth showed her how to fold napkins in elegant shapes fans, roses, and something that looked like a tiny bird. Amara’s folds were clumsy at first, but Ruth guided her hands patiently.
“Like this,” Ruth said softly, adjusting the crease. “There. Now it looks perfect.”
Amara looked at the napkin bird she’d made and beamed. “It’s actually cute!”
Ruth smiled back. “You’re a quick learner.”
***
By mid-morning, Amara decided to explore the backyard. The sun was high now, and the garden glowed with colors red hibiscus, white roses, golden marigolds, all lined neatly around a shimmering swimming pool. The air smelled like water, sunshine, and freshly cut grass.
She walked slowly, breathing it all in, when her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Her heart lifted instantly when she saw the name: Ethan.
She answered, unable to hide the smile in her voice. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, yourself,” Ethan said, his voice deep and warm even through the phone. “I just stepped out of a meeting and thought I’d check on you. How’s my queen doing?”
Amara laughed softly. “Your queen is fine. She’s just been wandering around your huge castle.”
“Getting lost, I hope?”
“Almost,” she teased. “I’ve met Mrs. Kendi, Joel, and Ruth. They’re lovely. And apparently, I’m learning how to fold napkins now.”
Ethan chuckled. “They’re already teaching you? I should’ve known Mrs. Kendi would recruit you to her kitchen team.”
“She did,” Amara said. “She says I’ll have to cook one day.”
“Oh, I can’t wait for that,” Ethan said, amusement threading his tone. “Though I must warn you, if it tastes too good, she might make you head chef.”
Amara giggled. “You wouldn’t fire me?”
“Fire you? Never,” he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, teasing warmth that always made her pulse race. “You’d be irreplaceable, Amara.”
Her breath hitched. “You’re at work, Ethan.”
“And?”
“And you shouldn’t be making me blush while I’m standing in the garden surrounded by staff,” she murmured.
Ethan laughed softly. “Then I’ll stop. For now. Just promise me you’re comfortable?”
“I am,” she said sincerely. “They’ve made me feel… at home.”
“That’s all I wanted,” he said quietly. “Home isn’t the walls or the cars it’s how you feel inside them. If you’re happy, then it’s perfect.”
Amara felt something tighten beautifully in her chest. “You always say things that get straight to my heart.”
“I’ll take that as a good thing,” he replied. “I’ll be home earlier today. Maybe we can have dinner outside by the pool?”
“I’d love that,” she said softly.
“Good. I’ll call before I leave the office. Be good, okay?”
“I’ll try
- Writer
