“I want you to assemble all the staff in the kitchen in ten minutes.” Judy began to walk out of the room. “I’m just going to go upstairs to check on my jewelry. Also I want you to stay here tonight so the girls won’t be alone or with someone they don’t already know. I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

Judy raced to her room, opened her jewelry box, and was relieved to see that her day-to-day things she kept in the house were still there. She took a quick spin through her closet, but evaluating the damage there would take far more time. Finally, she went into the bathroom, threw cold water on her face, took half an Ativan, inhaled a sustaining Ashtanga breath, and then marched into the kitchen.

The help was dutifully assembled: housekeeper, cook, cleaning lady, laundress, personal assistant, kids’ personal assistant, calligrapher, and after-school coach.

“Looky here.” Judy stood up while they all sat. “You all have the privilege of working for one of the best families in New York. And I expect each and every one of you to behave accordingly. My children are the children who set the standards in this city and deserve to be treated with the same respect and professionalism that Mr. Tremont and I are.” She took a breath and continued.

“You all make a hell of a good salary and Mr. Tremont is much more generous than he should be. But if any one of you gets any ideas like Emily, I want you to know that not only will you be replaced in a shot, I will track you down wherever you go and make certain that you never work again.” Judy saw the cook catch the housekeeper’s eye and made a note to herself that they were potential troublemakers.

“Finally, maybe some of you have an idea of what it meant to be working for an Astor, a du Pont, or a Vanderbilt. Well let me tell you something, that’s exactly where you are right now. This is a very important home and very important people come here. I want each and every one of you to know how lucky you are or I will fire you all.”

Judy walked out of the kitchen, went to her room, and got into bed. Of all the truly irritating things to happen on what was meant to be the best day of her life! She knew she had to snap out of it and shouldn’t take another Ativan, so she picked up the phone.

“Hello, this is Mrs. Tremont. I’d like to talk to the salesman who just brought those yumbo evening bags to my house. Yes, I’ll hold.”

Judy took another deep and relaxing long breath.