The house maid, Maria, had been with the couple for five years, and she knew where every skeleton—and every spare key—was buried.
One afternoon, the husband, George, came home early and found Maria leaning against the hallway wall, looking uncharacteristically smug.
“Maria,” George said, setting down his briefcase. “Is something wrong? You haven’t finished the laundry.”
Maria crossed her arms. “Mr. George, I think it is time for a 30% raise.”
George scoffed. “A 30% raise? That’s outrageous! Why on earth would I give you that?”
Maria smiled calmly. “Because, sir, I have been watching. For example, I know that your wife doesn’t actually go to ‘Pilates’ on Tuesday nights. She goes to the Hilton to see her ‘personal trainer’ named Fabio.”
George froze, his face turning pale. “I… I see. Well, under the circumstances, a 30% raise seems… fair. Very fair.”
“And,” Maria continued, “I think I also deserve an extra two weeks of paid vacation.”
George narrowed his eyes. “Now you’re pushing it, Maria. Why the vacation?”
“Because,” she whispered, “I also know that when she is at the Hilton, you aren’t at the ‘office’ working late. You’re in the guest house with the neighbor’s daughter.”
George broke into a cold sweat and started hyperventilating. “Fine! Fine. 30% raise, two weeks vacation. Anything else? Just tell me now.”
Maria nodded thoughtfully. “Actually, yes. I want the keys to the Mercedes.”
George snapped. “The Mercedes?! That’s my pride and joy! You’ve got the dirt on us, sure, but the car is too much! Who told you that you could ask for a Mercedes just for watching us?”
Maria shrugged. “The gardener. He’s been watching all three of you from the bushes, and he told me if I didn’t get the car, he’d stop sharing his binoculars.”
