The Maid Who Claimed My Home
Language: en
My housekeeper is pregnant. I found out for sure last night when she served me a lukewarm tray of pre-packaged microwave lasagna for dinner. I’m not a snob, but I pay for a certain level of service. Just as I opened my mouth to say something, she beat me to the punch with a heavy sigh. "Ms. Davenport, don't start with the nitpicking. I’m the one who needs 'priority protection' right now. Stress isn't good for the baby." I slowly lowered my fork, forcing the irritation back down my throat. Rhonda is thirty-five, and this is her first pregnancy. At her age, it’s considered high-risk. I…