I told my secretary that I had a doctor's appointment, and in that nosey curt manner of hers she reminded me that it wasn't written in my book. It's amazing how one's secretary over time assumes an air of propriety, as if I were there for her benefit. I snapped the pen out of her hand and scribbled in the appointment: It's there now…And left the office.

I hopped a cab and told the driver to take me to Central Park, the Museum entrance, and fast. I didn't have any further appointments that afternoon, but I didn't want my staff to think I had left them to melt in the office. My intention was to return as soon as possible.

My little plan was to find a nice spot in the park and wait for someone to pick me up, which invariably happens when you're as beautiful as I am -- I'd take it from there. I entered the park and it was pretty empty or everyone was hiding deep in the shade. Of course I got looks from some guys that were there, but they didn't interest me. I happen to be fussy, frightfully so.

Passing through the Great Lawn, in fact the same area where I had met Little John, a gentleman, wearing what we in the upper classes dare to call livery these days, approached and greeted me in the most discreet manner. At first, I didn't place him. I decided to stop, which meant that I wanted him to stop as well. He waited with hands folded over and I dared not breech my true intentions. The conversation went something like this:

"Thisley, isn't it?"

"Yes, madam. Mrs. Groton's butler. I believe we met some months ago."

"I believe we did. I see your madam has given you the afternoon off."

"Just the contrary, Ms. Dupree. I took young Robert to Little League. I'm merely returning. The day is far from done."

I was intrigued that he had remembered my name, which made me wonder what else he hadn't forgotten. Thisley was the kind of butler that was a bit too smart for his own good, but not smart enough to be anything more than a butler; yet, I was impressed that Thisley had managed to stay buttoned up with a stiff starched collar in New York's wretched summer humidity. A butler of that baring is worth his weight in gold.

It was his turn now, "It seems you're lucky to have the afternoon off, Ms. Dupree."

Ouch. "That depends."

"It would. Wouldn't it?"

He was a smart-Alec as well. "How's Rodney getting along?"

"He's found work, Madam. How are you getting along?"

I detected the childish they way in which he spoke to me. As if I were one of the Groton girls that he had permission to spank.

"Actually, I'm getting along just fine. If you know what I mean."

He said, "Ah, yes. I think I know what you mean.

"You do? Well, it's good to know someone can know what you mean when you haven't even told them."

"But I think you have."

"I have?"

"Of course, but I could be mistaken," lowering his eyes just a bit to let me know he knew when to back off.

Still, I didn't like the tone of his voice. Worse, he was forgetting his place. "I don't particularly care what you know or don't know, Thisely. Mrs. Groton is deeply indebted to me for her reinstatement to the city's prime social committees. Am I making myself clear?" I was insinuating that I could make life difficult for her and therefore the same for him. He let go of his hands and put them at his sides, "Yes, Madam." That looked better, "Now what were you saying?"

"Sorry, if I have offended you, madam."

I accepted his offer momentarily, "I believe we were talking about Rodney."

"Yes, Madam. We stay in touch. Is there anything I should relay to him?" He glanced at my bottom and gave me a quick bow. Obviously, Rodney had told him about my spankings, a breech of etiquette, but then that was to be expected among butlers, as long as they keep it to themselves. Nonetheless, I wasn't too happy. "Just what do you have in mind, Thisley?"

"Why nothing, madam.."

Again, he glanced at my bottom. I began to wonder if there was something stuck on it. "Did you and he talk?"

He said, "We always talk when we meet, madam."

"Did you talk about me, Thisley?"

"As a matter of fact you did come up, but with the utmost discretion, I assure you."

I had left my office desperate for some discipline, and now I found myself trying to avoid the subject completely. I like things going my way. That's because I'm a leader, a CEO, someone is rich and successful. I certainly don't like it when a mere butler suddenly gets the upper hand. I felt like I was playing his game and not mine, and I was bent on changing that.

"And just what was it that you and he talked about?"

He said, "Your well being, madam."

"My being is well, thank you very much."

"Of course madam. You're quite successful, and at such a young age. One can only admire a woman with such ability. I'm sure one doesn't learn that at school, but is something acquired through the hard-knox of life."

I corrected him, "My life has never been hard, Thisley. Unless one is foolish enough to make it hard."

" I stand to be corrected, madam."

"Obviously. What else did you two talk about -- concerning me."

"Rodney has mentioned certain things, that is discreet things, madam. Discreet things that we share only on a professional basis. "

"Such as?"

"Service to our mistress. Her well being and happiness. Her pleasure and needs."

"I see….." It was quite obvious that Thisely knew all about my spankings, and I tried to detect anything injudicious in his manner, any insidious self-serving gloat that he hid beneath that stiff jaw of his, but he remained neutral and perfectly in form, so I asked, "And if you were to serve my needs just how would you proceed, rhetorically speaking, that is?"

He proudly spoke, "Let me confidently say that after conversing with Rodney I now admire how prescient you were in taking certain actions concerning your self-improvement, contrary to other women who might be considered slack, or to use a rather common term 'lazy' about their social comportment, as so many are these days - those who claim to be independent and free; yet, lonely and miserable, as in that TV show Sex in the City. But you, madam, you are always proper and correct, unlike so many slovenly others. I dare say that Mrs. Groton has managed to stay so, but with a little help. Though you madam, haven't the need of any help; yet, you can't resist raising the bar concerning your high standards. It is no wonder that you are so admired. Nary a day goes by that Mrs. Groton doesn't mention your name and sigh in heartfelt awe."
I wondered, "You're not implying that I might be slacking off?"

"No, madam. Rodney does have concern though, and despite the ultimate incompatibility of your prior situation, a good butler never allows his feelings to subsume that of his mistress', even if employment has been terminated."

"Tell him, then, that I may have misjudged in the past, but never his character nor integrity."

"I most certainly will, madam."

"Good. I think, and this may be to your surprise, that we are in agreement more than we would have presumed to have suspected."

"I suspect nothing, madam. That is not my business. I'm here to be of your service."

"But you're not in my service."

"No, madam, but when in your presence it would do me poorly not to be. As of this moment, and any other when we should meet, I am at your service. You are stuck with my servitude, if I may be so wanton to admit."

Ahhh, yes, how I liked his attitude! Very much so. I told you Thisley was smart, for a butler that is. "If you were looking for employment there would be opportunity in my household at this very moment."

"How coincidental, madam. Young Albert, my son, is in training at the Groton household and I had thought it would be better if I took time off to see how he fares. How fortunate we met, or how fortunate that fate had us in her eye."

"Then Mrs. Groton and I will discuss it. How would that suit you?"

"Without being presumptuous, madam, I believe it will suit us fine."

And with that we parted.