The Green-Eyed Maid Inn

“Nonsense,” Karen spoke up as she approached us now, having photographed me at least half a dozen times from different angles beforehand. “Anyone can be trained how to stand, walk, smile, pout, but a natural team player is worth double her weight in gold.”

By all accounts, Megyn had the absolute time of her life getting to spend the day hanging out with the Midnight Dolls. She didn’t faint when Shannon presented her with the Joni Mitchell acoustic guitar, but she did break down crying, thanking her over and over again after Shannon refused to take no for an answer. And, more than just a music lesson, both Shannon and Sinead coached her on basic music theory for songwriting, too, and by the end of the day, had worked out a schedule for future lessons over Skype.

Shannon and I talked about going out to dinner that night, but ultimately we decided to stay in and enjoyed Mom’s delicious cooking. For someone who came from a small family, Mom knew how to cook for a crowd, including the band’s security detail plus Victoria, who I think, appreciated the homecooked meal more than anyone.

I came in to work early on Monday because I knew it was going to be a very, very long day, parking my bike around the back of the Inn and slipping inside that way, as the front lobby was already starting to pick up business, even at this early hour, and I didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself.

“You’re glowing,” Christie said as I walked into the costume department. I looked up at her and giggled. That was the second time in as many days that someone had said that to me

“I am?” I asked. She laughed.

“Yes, you are. Did you and Shannon...” she trailed off, and I blushed.

“Not yet,” I said. Shannon knew about me by now, and it wasn’t like we hadn’t fooled around a little, but sex was not something I was ready to think about yet - not just with Shannon, but with anyone, and Shannon completely respected that

I put my bike helmet down and sat at one of the vanity mirrors to start doing my makeup, getting Christie and Emily caught up on what had happened with Megyn, not to mention my week off in the big city.

I was by no means anything resembling an expert yet, but doing my makeup for the role of a cleaning girl, and now hostess, was easy - just foundation and a little color here and there to create a natural look, nothing fancy.

“That is so freaking awesome,” Christie said as she came up behind me. “I’m so happy for her.”

“Yeah,” I said, looking up at Christie’s reflection. “Hey that reminds me, I talked to Lynetta over the weekend. She said she’s going to put her size 8 1/2 boot up your butt for not telling her you needed help.” I laughed, and she giggled too.

“She’s already done so much to help me out,” she said and shook her head. “I’ll stop by Crowley’s on the way home and talk to her though, let her know I’m okay. Are you okay though?” she asked.

“Me?” I said. “Yeah. I’m a little nervous about this first day as full time hostess, but other than that I’m on cloud 11.”

“Shouldn’t that be cloud 9?” Emily giggled as she emerged from one of the two changing stalls in full uniform.

“Nah, my cloud goes to 11,” I said. Emily and Christie both burst out laughing. “Sorry,” I said. “We watched ‘This is Spinal Tap’ after dinner last night as part of Megyn’s induction into being a future rock diva.”

“BTW Claire said she has a present for you,” Christie said. “She didn’t say what’s up, just that she was picking everything up on the way in and not to let you change clothes.”

“Uh oh,” I said. “Wonder what that’s about?” But I didn’t have long to wait, as Claire came through the door with a big cylindrical white box under one arm, and a garment bag over her shoulder. “Speak of the devil and she appears,” I laughed.

“My ears were burning,” Claire giggled playfully. “Okay, so, before I show you the new dress auntie Erika commissioned for you as hostess,” she said and put down the cylindrical box, “We debated on whether the hostess would wear a cap or not, or how you would want to wear your hair, so, I called in a favor.”

“Oh, wow,” I said as Claire opened the box and pulled out a small, formless white mannequin bust, atop which rested a full long wig with my exact hue of medium dark red. “It’s beautiful.”

“You don’t have to use it at all,” Claire said. “We just wanted to make sure you had as many options open to you as possible. Wigs were, like, insanely fashionable back then which is how I get away with the Rapunzel hair though,” she teased.

“Exactly,” I said in agreement. “This is absolutely something a hostess would wear! I’m letting mine grow out, but until then, Claire this is perfect,” I said, standing up to hug her. “Thank you so much.”

“Aw, it’s no big,” Claire said. “Now, the dress I had absolutely nothing to do with so if you hate that, blame Erika,” she teased, handing me the garment bag.

Unlike the basic black of servants’ clothing, the dress looked like something almost right out of high court fashion of the time, made of golden colored cloth with delicate, intentional folds. The sleeves ended in a lace bell style, and the bodice was lined in tiny pearls. In the bottom of the bag were a pair of matching gold shoes, with little white silk bows on the toes, the heels of which were only slightly higher than what I was already used to wearing.

“Oh my gosh,” I said, “It’s beautiful. And, more importantly, it’s not green,” I laughed.

“Oh I know right?” Claire laughed. “Erika actually wanted to go with green originally, but after seeing the sample illustrations the costumers came up with she backed out. She said she didn’t want to make you look like a living Christmas tree.”

“I appreciate that,” I burst out laughing, and rushed to change. Claire helped me with the faux hair afterwards, showing me how to properly pin it down so it wouldn’t fly off in the first stiff breeze, and we fussed with it a bit to get just the right look that said ‘Hostess’ and not ‘Expensive tavern wench’ - which, surprisingly, took us a bit of work.

It didn’t help that Emily kept humming the Pirates of the Caribbean theme the entire time, all because I joked that the dress reminded me of Miss Elizabeth’s dress from the start of the first movie, minus the corsets.

“You look stunning,” Erika said as I entered the main lobby, followed by the entire entourage of cleaning staff like some kind of lady in waiting and her servants. It felt a little awkward, being the center of attention like that, especially as guests who were just checking in even stopped to snap photos of us.

“Thank you,” I said and gave a little curtsey. “This dress is just... so much. I love it, but my goodness,” I said in my best Green-Eyed Maid voice. I was very much playing the part of a bewildered maid promoted to lady, and living it too.

An older woman with very nearly white, platinum blonde hair and wearing a tailored business suit approached us. I tried to ignore the red haired lady in the denim jeans and suede jacket walking around, seemingly oblivious to everyone around us, and snapping photos on a new Nikon D5. The way she moved, tilted her camera, knelt, she was clearly an expert at her craft, and as Ms. Winters introduced herself, I realized she was indeed with Winters, Inc.

“It is such an honor to finally meet you Riley,” Ms. Winters had said after excitedly shaking my hand. She lowered her voice playfully so the guests wouldn’t hear, “Not least because poor Erika’s been trying to cajole someone into this role for the past year.” She grinned at me.

I couldn’t help it and giggled. “Someday I will have to ask what happened to the previous hostess, but we have some big plans going forward. It’s both a pleasure and an honor to meet you as well, though. My dear sister’s friend Marilyn has had nothing but praise for you and the agency.”

Ms. Winters looked genuinely, if only momentarily, shocked by that. She didn’t say it, but I knew she instantly knew who I was now, presumably because Marilyn had explained why she was dropping her entire life to return home a few weeks ahead of the big, upcoming fashion show in which she would be returning anyway.

“I’m going to be brutally honest with you, Ms. Riley,” Ms. Winters said - and she was indeed Ms. Winters. Anyone daring to call her Melissa, with the probable exception of Karen, the photographer I mentioned before, would very quickly learn the error of their ways. “If I hadn’t so much respect for my dearest friend Erika and the amount of work she’s put into her inheritance here, I’d be trying to poach you for my modeling agency right under her nose.”

I wanted to think she was joking, but her tone, expression, all seemed to suggest this was not something she would joke about. I had no idea what to even say to that.

“Thank you,” I managed. “I don’t think I’m cut out for modeling.”

“Nonsense,” Karen spoke up as she approached us now, having photographed me at least half a dozen times from different angles beforehand. “Anyone can be trained how to stand, walk, smile, pout, but a natural team player is worth double her weight in gold.”

I spent the rest of that morning meeting with the Winters Inc. talent as they came through, posing for selfies or, more often working directly with Karen to stage photos. I think I surprised her. She might have known I was a team player just based on whatever stories Erika might have told her - being a silent senior partner in the agency as well as lead photographer, but my knowledge about lighting and photography really shone through that first day.

I was given an hour for lunch since I’d be back at it again that afternoon and late into the evening, so after changing into my street clothes and placing Ms. Riley’s hair on the mannequin bust, I went over to the Inn’s restaurant to meet Shannon for lunch.

Karen approached our table not long after we sat down. “Sorry to intrude,” she said. “I know you’re just getting your break so I promise I won’t keep you, but can I ask you a personal question?” she asked. “Hi Shannon,” she added warmly. “Great to see you again.”

“Hi Karen,” Shannon said as brightly and even got up to hug her.

“You guys know each other?” I asked and then added, “Any friend of Shannon’s is a friend of mine.”

“Absolutely,” Shannon said. “Please, come sit with us! I was actually a model briefly with Winters, Inc when I was a teenager, before I was recruited to be the frontwoman for Midnight Dolls.”

“Oh that’s so cool,” I said. “I thought you were a founding member,” I added as Karen sat down with us. “Oh I’m sorry,” I said. “What was it you wanted to ask?”

Karen laughed softly watching my back and forth with Shannon. “Well I was just wondering where you got your photography training? There is absolutely no way you’re old enough to have a college degree, but you’ve got more insight than a lot of professionals I’ve worked with over the years.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I graduated from the Boston Latin Academy school of hard knocks, under the watchful gaze of Lara Hamilton. But, our yearbook staff has taken home the gold crown every year for the past 10 years under her advisement.”

Of course, I was part of the newspaper staff and not yearbook, but the yearbook folks did publish some of my photos, and many yearbook photographers’ pics ended up in our newspaper too. Unlike the layout designers and writers, us camera dorks were a shared commodity pool, and we liked it like that.

“And a Pace Maker last year as I recall,” Karen said. “The only reason I know that is because I was asked to give out that award myself,” she giggled. “But, yeah, that explains everything. Lara could be teaching at any fine arts college in the nation. The fact she still teaches at a public high school, that’s just awesome.”

The three of us chatted over a lunch of beef stew that I swear, Evan and the staff had completely outdone themselves with this time, and afterwards, Karen wrote something down on the back of a business card, pushing it over to me.

“Melissa doesn’t want to poach you as a model, but that doesn’t mean I can’t offer you a contract job if you’re up for it.”

“Can I ask what the difference is?” I asked. Karen laughed.

“Mainly?” she said, grinning, “You don’t have to move out to Los Angeles. I’m always looking for regional photographers that I can work with for gigs that pop up. I wasn’t coming here to scout for talent, but I’m not going to ignore a golden opportunity when I see one, either.”

“Wait, you want me to- but you haven’t even seen my portfolio yet,” I said. She shook her head, showing me her phone. She had my Zenfolio page pulled up. I had only recently even set the account up with Sinead’s amazing help, but the band had been sharing my snaps across all their social media, so I shouldn’t have been terribly surprised Karen had found it so easily.

“Yeah I have,” Karen grinned. “What the heck is the story between those two semi trucks barreling towards you in this one though?” she asked, pointing. I laughed.

“I actually shot that with an f4 200mm tele lens. I’m well off behind a guard rail on a closed oval track. They were running a 10 lap challenge for charity,” I explained.

“Ah gotcha,” Karen said, looking at her phone again. “Your street skills are great, but more importantly you know lighting and portrait photography without thousands of dollars in fancy lighting equipment. Sure, it helps, but as photographers we don’t always get the luxury of setting up in a studio with perfect lighting. So, you up for it?”

“Sure,” I said, “Consider me contracted. I just need to clear it with Erika first so she knows I’m not abandoning the Inn. I love it here.”

Karen grinned even more broadly as she offered me her hand. “I’ll have some paperwork faxed over to me and bring it to you to sign this evening, but, upfront I’ll just straight tell you, you can always decline a gig. You can use whatever gear you already have or you can request a business expense stipend, within reason. Welcome to Winters, Inc.”

“Congrats!” Shannon squealed finally and giggled. “Sorry. I’ve been holding that in for like the last minute and a half. Rye I am so proud for you!”

“I can’t wait to see Melissa’s face, though,” Karen giggled. “I poached a togger right out from under her for a change,” she teased, grinning at me.

“It’s only fair since I stole Nicole,” Shannon laughed.

“Nah,” Karen giggled. “Nicole was ready to get out of L.A. for awhile. Helping her found Nikita Protection Services was my idea.” She winked playfully, as the big, ticking grandfather clock nearby chimed the hour.

“Oh, shoot,” I said. “That’s my break.” I pulled a $20 bill and slid it up under my plate for whomever bussed our table to find as a tip. I then leaned over and gave Shannon a kiss. “See you tonight?”

“If not sooner, Ms. Riley,” Shannon teased and giggled, giving my hand a squeeze before letting me go so I could change back into costume.

After getting back into costume and fixing my hair and makeup, I went to find Erika in her office. I knocked twice, and she smiled and motioned for me to come inside.

“I’m thinking of using this photo of you on our newly relaunched website,” she said as she tilted the flat panel monitor to show me. It was one of the ones Karen had snapped that very morning. “What do you think?”

“I’m okay with it,” I said. I hesitated, and then just came right out with it. “Karen offered me a job as a contract photographer, but before I sign anything I wanted to talk to you about it.”

She listened as I told her exactly what I was hoping to do, taking on the contracting as a freelancer rather than a full time photographer because I really wanted to keep my day job here at the Inn. Her face betrayed just the tiniest flicker of excitement at that, I noticed.

“This is perfect,” Erika said happily.

“It is?” Iasked. She nodded.

“I’ve always contracted with Winters Inc photographers to handle the GEM’s public relations. Having you as a contractor with them actually saves me an absolute mountain of paperwork later. My poor accountant, who happens to also be my beloved, will thank you too, she giggled out.

“Awesome,” I said as I sat back in the chair. “Karen will have everything for me to sign this evening. For now though,” I said, standing again, “I have more guests to greet. But I wanted to be the first to tell you that I’m not going anywhere. I know what Ms. Winters said about trying to poach me this morning.”

Erika all but cackled. “And now, Karen’s come along and poached you as a photographer oh that’s too good,” she said between giggles. “Thank you Riley. That made my day.”

“Happy to be of service,” I giggled, and swept out of the room to return to hostessing duty.

But, that’s my story, at least so far. I now work as a hostess and tour guide for the Green-Eyed Maid, but I also don the black and white of a servant’s dress and apron to clean rooms when business is slow.

Shannon and I are still going steady, and even though the tour is over, her visa allows her to stay here in Boston. And while neither of us really know what the future holds, I plan to tease Shannon about a rumor going around that she was recently spotted leaving a Kay Jeweler’s, and how rumors are flying that she’s going to pop the question, even though it’s only our six month anniversary.

Avery and Megyn are still together too, and Megyn still lives with us, but, I am really happy to say that she and her mom are on speaking terms again. Her mom even apologized, not just to Megyn, but to all of us. She admitted she was wrong, and, she’s even going to counseling now, so Megyn promised to come visit her family. I want to believe she’s trying to be a better person, not just for Megyn’s sake, but for the sake of Megyn’s younger sibling. But that, as my auntie Rose would say, isn’t my story to tell.