Of course

“I'd be ever so grateful.” I do my best to look as dubious as possible.

“I don't know, do you have any experience with this kind of thing?”

“Well, not on my CV, Sir, but I was always helping my mum around the house. I'm sure it would be no trouble.” She is eager to please, I'll give this young woman credit for that.

“Do you live on campus?” I ask, pointing in the general direction of my neighborhood as I reel her in. “My house is a couple blocks that way.”

“I'm a little in between places at the moment.” Riya confesses, “But it will be no problem, I promise.” Again, I shake my head doubtfully.

“In my condition, I need to have someone reliable...”

“Oh Sir! I am very reliable. I have excellent grades ... I can get you references.”

“You would have to be.” I warn, “I need someone who will do as I say, with no complaints.” I want to make it clear from the very beginning that her role would be a subservient one and when Riya nods her head eagerly, I throw in another warning. “I can get a pretty grumpy, especially when my meds are wearing off.”

“I'm used to grumpy men, Sir.” Riya is feeling more confident now, “I had to put up with my father for years before he finally let me come to the States for Uni.”

As we walk slowly back to my house, we introduce ourselves properly and I get to hold Riya's soft hand in mine again as we shake hands. I'm surprised when Riya tells me she's a Maths and Econ major, this young woman is way smarter than me, that's for damn sure. Book smart anyway. When I ask about boyfriends, I'm pleased to see her bashful blush.

“I'm far too busy for boys, Mr. Patterson.” She assures me and I am relieved that I won't have to put up with some other 'Dick' like Alison's asshole 'lover'.

“Not even back in India?”

“No Sir, back home my parents wouldn't let me have real dates; they said I was too young.” This is starting to sound better and better, and I have to concentrate on keeping my gate slow and unsteady as we walk the last block to my house.

Once inside, I leave my crutches on the back porch; I'll just have to remember to lean on walls and counters to maintain the illusion.

The kitchen where she'd do the cooking is as tidy as ever, I'm a little bit set in my ways in that regard, but Riya seems relieved to see how clean it is. It might be my imagination, but to me it looks like the only kitchen appliance she seems familiar with is the toaster oven. It's a good thing I'm not really hiring her for her cooking skills. It's a similar story in the laundry room next door. Judging by the way Riya looks at the washer and drier I wonder if this young woman has ever done her own laundry or if she has a service do it for her. I explain that because of my neck I have trouble doing even simple chores. As we walk through the main floor, I let her know that the rooms should be vacuumed and dusted every day and that the woodwork had to be washed at least once a week. Upstairs, I show her the bedroom that I used to share with Alison. Even after my old tenant left, I've kept in the habit of sleeping up here and the bed is still a rumpled mess from last night.

“I should have made it, but...” I sigh softly and touch my neck brace.

“I'll make it for you Mr. Patterson.” Riya looks more confident in this task than the cooking, cleaning and laundry. I sit in by the window and watch the pretty coed pull the sheets and blankets all the way off and then efficiently replace them tucking in the sheets with neat hospital corners. She does a good job, but all I can think about is how much I'd like to be messing up those tightly stretched sheets with this prime piece of Indian ass squirming under me.

Before heading downstairs, I show her the small room that Fran used to use as a sewing room. It is set up with a narrow bed and dresser and it has a Spartan austerity to it.

“You won't have to do much in here; no one uses it anymore.” I can see Riya taking in the room with sudden interest.

“Why not Mr. Patterson?”

“When this house was first built it was the servant's quarters.” I make that part up because it seems to fit the Little Princess type scenario I'm going for. You know, where a once proud finishing school student is reduced to sleeping in squalor and working as a menial servant for her former peers. “After my boys grew up, Fran and I rented the space out to students.” I shrug, “Even if I wanted to rent it now, most kids want their own luxury suites, not a dingy little room like this.”

I could have easily moved my stuff back downstairs and offered Riya the whole upstairs, like I did with Alison, but I want to see how willing this beautiful young woman is to accept the role of a common servant.