The Maid's Lover.

Chapter 1

I quickly check the address, security codes and list of tasks once more before setting off to the commuter belt area of town. I swerve throught the traffic, pedalling over the town bridge and round to the staff entrance of the appartment block.

I clean a few flats in this block, each one followed the same style and decor, it was easy to forget which one was which. Smiling over to Ricky from security I check the instructions for the name of the new client. "A Mr B Clement today, Ricky" I shout as I head towards the staff lift.

"Orla, which floor? We have Mr Clemont on floor 12..." I cut him off, I didn't want to get into one of Rickys long winded chats, I knew it would look bad if I turned up late for the first appointment. Shouting over to his direction once more"Apartment 129, thanks Ricky"

"Orla, its Clemont,  watch that one, if you get his name wrong you can kiss this contract goodbye. He's very strict"

Inputting the security code into the lift I wondered if 'Mr Clemont' would be there, I hated it when clients followed me about checking everything I did. Mrs Sanders in 145 was always at her appartment when I cleaned it. Nothing was more off putting than having a 45 year old woman chatting away while I was trying to clean within a time limit. I often thought Mrs Sanders had a cleanner to ensure she had someone to talk to 3 times a week while her husband continued his frequent 'business trips' abroad. I really didn't need Mr Clemont doing the same thing, maybe I could get them chatting together so she could get on with cleaning both appartments in peace.

Gingerly turning the key whilst announcing my arrival; I sighed with relief,  no one home. Opening the hall cloakroom door I glanced around, "yep, identical to the others" I groaned inwardly "why on earth do these people spend so much on interior designers to look completely the same as all the others" I muttered to myself. "Right Mr Clemont, lets see the sleek stainless steel kitchen" I announced in my best estate agents voice "check" "now through into the living area, desk to the left" I continued, raising my hand over to the corner without a glance "check". "Following through to the master suite with its cream decor, maple wood ginormous bed with stupid oversized sheets, eight pillows, ridiculously impractical and pointless cushions and... oh shit" "what the fuck".

I checked outside the room once more, "standard 'exec' appartment'" then returned to the room " standard 'porn' room'", "normal" I uttered tipping my head out the room "fucked up" I exclaimed returning my gaze back to the room. The room I had entered scream "porn"; the chairs obviously weren't designed for lounging or gathering clothes like my appartment. The bed came with an optional extra of a metal frame attacted to the ceiling with various cuffs and bars attached to it. Over by the dresser stood a paddle with long handle and another set of bars. The room was cloaked in darkness. I moved to open the shutters considering if I should even be in this room. Once I returned my gaze to the room I started to see past the BDSM pieces and saw the beutiful colours, materials and textures in the room. The comforter on the bed was velvety soft, the bed linen complemented the dark wooden bed perfectly and the ornate antique mirror over the bed screamed a deeply personal touch within the room. No interior designer could have achieved this eclectic mix. Whoever set up this room did it for themselves, did it with a keen interest, sensitive care and an amazing eye for detail. This wasn't a porn room, this was a carefully crafted, beautifully unique room.

I started to look through the apartment, noticing the same care and attention throughout the entire living space. Whoever lived here was passionate and individual,  I started to hope we would meet.