Back at Paul's houseboat, Paul is looking in a file called "Business Directory," which lists such businesses as "Laura's Jeans," "Laundra's Laptops," and "Jeffrey's Tubes." Those may be some of the worst business names ever, although not as bad as "Colon Party Shop," which I once saw on a local turnpike. Paul finds a listing for RevCam's company and clicks on it. The webpage for RevCam's company pops onto the screen. "Yes! I'm in!" says Paul. He must have AOL, where every time you click on something and you don't get cut off, it's cause for celebration. Paul looks for files with the name of RevCam's private detective agency. There aren't any. Paul looks sad, then says, "The son of a bitch has it at home."
The Mansion on the Wrong Side of the Tracks. Felicity is dolling herself up for a long day of hot babysitting action when her haggard old mother asks her to drop Jeff off at his game. Felicity says she can't, because she'll be interviewing housekeepers for RevCam today. "Exactly what do you know about housekeeping?" Haggard Mom asks. "Who do you think runs that house, Mother?" asks Felicity. Rich people call their parents "mother" and "father," not like we poor folk, who call them "mom" and "dad." Or those prairie folk who call them "ma" and "pa," which was a phase I went through when I read The Little House on the Prairie series in fourth grade. Haggard Mom asks Felicity why she's wearing heels to baby-sit. Felicity says she doesn't want to look like "some teenager." She wants to look like a teenager who's trying to screw her boss. Felicity leaves. Haggard Mom giggles strangely. I didn't think that was very funny, but some people have odd senses of humor.
Felicity drives the Range Rover into RevCam's driveway. Paul watches from his inconspicuous location of being parked directly perpendicular to the end of the driveway. Inside, Felicity assures RevCam that she has everything under control. "The skirt's a keeper, yes?" RevCam says. I guess that was supposed to be seductive. Back outside, RevCam drives his convertible out of the driveway. After he's well past Paul's car, Paul turns his head away to avoid suspicion. I think Paul might actually be a worse detective than Clair or Frank.
Speaking of, Clair (SPCCC: 8) is waiting for RevCam at his office. She says she's glad he finally called her, because she's been trying to get in touch with him for a while now. "I left so many messages," she whines, like she's his scorned lover or something. RevCam asks Clair to please understand that it's been hard for him to return phone calls, what with trying to get over his wife being dead and all, but he called her to ask her not to bother "the help." Oh, please. Your "help" has a staff of one, and she's not even full-time.
RevCam's son answers the door. Paul's there. "You're a guy!" the kid says. "So are you," Paul says. Genders confirmed, the boy expresses surprise that a guy would want to be a housekeeper. Ah, pre-assigned gender roles. Aren't they great? Paul says he does, and gets invited into the house.