Chapter Two
Cara had not realized what it really meant to clean. She’d naively thought it would be hard physical work but rather straightforward. This illusion was quickly put aside after her first hour of work.
For her first week at the house, her work was double checked by Mrs. Caulfield, who was more scrupulous than anyone she had ever met. Things Cara had never considered before were considered important, droplets of water that had dried on the sink, the direction in which she wiped the towel to dry a surface, or the way towels ought to be folded so no ends showed.
By the end of the week, Mr. Martinez was still on a boating holiday with friends and had not been seen at the house.
“Please let me stay here at this house… and protect me from Dimitri,” Cara looked up at the night sky and stars. It was late at night and her sleep was filled with dreams of Stavros throwing her against a wall and Dimitri threatening to follow her to the ends of the earth, so she tried not to sleep. Instead, she spent a good deal of time sitting by her bedroom window talking to the night sky.
“I don’t know what to do,” she leaned her head back on the wall. The sky was brilliant, stars flickering wildly, shining in clusters as if there were a large party going on in the sky tonight. “One day Mrs. Caulfield will figure out that I am not meant to be here, she already sees that I’m not a very good house maid.”
Cara looked at her hands. Callouses were forming on her fingers—fingers that seemed incapable of getting anything done effectively or efficiently enough for Mrs. Caulfield.
She looked out of her window once more and saw a yacht pull into the private dock. She could not make out anything but the general merriment of the group on deck. There was a cheer as a bottle of champagne popped open. One of the women almost fell but a man caught her in time. Another man threw bags to the dock with no thought to valuables or breakable items and Cara realized that they were all drunk.
Standing up she walked to her bedroom door. Her curiosity had grown so intense over the mysterious Marco Martinez that she was determined to spy on the group and figure out what he was like in real life.
Padding down the stairs she rushed into the kitchen but stopped abruptly.
Mrs. Caulfield sat at the kitchen table in front of her. She looked up sharply as Cara stopped in front of her.
“I was… A group just pulled up in a yacht, I thought probably Mr. Martinez and… I thought I should let you know,” Cara rubbed her lips together.
Mrs. Caulfield seemed satisfied with this answer and looked down at the table in front of her, “Yes. I had a phone call.” The woman looked despondent. She was deep in thought and serious matters were floating through her mind. Cara’s stomach squeezed, Mrs. Caulfield had found out about Cara, she’d figured out that Judy had not sent her.
“He wants to have a giant party tomorrow evening, to celebrate his time away,” Mrs. Caulfield looked up at Cara.
Cara exhaled with relief. She couldn’t be sure but she thought that the older woman might have actually cried over this news.
“A party? But that will be nice,” Cara sat opposite Mrs. Caulfield.
“Our party planner is in the hospital, giving birth… her assistant is in some small town in China visiting family and I cannot get a hold of her.” Mrs. Caulfield put both of her hands palms down on the table. Her left hand stroked the wood grain as if it were a pet.
“I can help,” Cara leaned forward, desperate to make this scary woman less sad. There was something terrible about her predicament though it hardly seemed so dire as Mrs. Caulfield looked.
“You?” Mrs. Caulfield’s eyes lifted to Cara.
“Sure I used to plans lots of parties,” Cara felt like she was stepping into a pot that might soon boil over. It was a bad idea to begin sharing too much information with Mrs. Caulfield.
“Like, children’s parties?” Mrs. Caulfield asked.
"No, like…" Cara drifted off thinking of how much to divulge. Eventually, Mrs. Caulfield was going to find out that Cara wasn't sent by Judy, but if Cara could make herself valuable to Mrs. Caulfield then maybe… Cara took a breath. "Like Vegas parties, costume parties, charity balls, there was even a murder mystery whodunit party once."
Cara felt like Mrs. Caulfield’s crisply manicured hand was squeezing around her heart as the older woman scrutinized her.
“Ok,” Mrs. Caulfield tapped both her palms on the table. “I will give you the vendor list of who we usually use. But this is not some little Vegas party, Cara, this is a Marco Martinez party—it has to be better than anything you’ve ever seen or heard of. Understood?” Cara could see that Mrs. Caulfield was still trying to decide if she was making the right decision.
“If this doesn’t go well… we could both lose our jobs.” Mrs. Caulfield was studying Cara.
“He would do that?”
“You are sure you can do this?” Mrs. Caulfield’s eyes told Cara everything she needed to know about Marco Martinez’s temperament. Cara had known she wasn’t safely tucked into the household yet but Mrs. Caulfield?
“I’ll get started right now,” Cara tried her best to smile. “How many people and what’s the budget?”
The look of worry left Mrs. Caulfield’s face for a moment as she smiled at Cara, “This is Marco Martinez we are talking about—there is no budget.”
Cara had hoped to talk to Marco himself about her party plans, but he was unavailable and Mrs. Caulfield thought it unwise anyway. If Marco knew there was someone new in charge of everything, then he would be scrutinizing it all even closer than normal.
Since the party was to celebrate the recent travels on Marco’s yacht, Cara had decided on a “port of call” themed party. There would be music, food, dancers, and entertainment from all over the world. Trinidad dancers with huge dresses and tiny costumes, a DJ playing the same house music currently being played in Ibiza, Sevruga caviar from the Aegean Sea, octopus and tuna served in the Japanese style.
She spent most of the night planning, creating ideas and laying out plans. As the new day dawned she began to see exactly what the name Marco Martinez meant in Miami.
Each new place she called she expected to be turned down, chastened for her last minute requests. But people responded immediately. Other companies canceled previous engagements and didn't bat an eyelash to make room for a Marco Martinez event.
When caterers, dancers, musicians, even a fire eater were all set in place by seven that evening, it was like magic. Though terrified of Marco and his reaction to her work, Cara felt in her element. She was good at this.
She slipped on the dress she’d left Vegas in, the knee high boots that cost more than she now got paid in a month, plumped her lips with a bright red lipstick and went down to the kitchen.
The smells were heavenly. Food was everywhere. Cara smiled at the many people populating the kitchen.
“Guests have begun to arrive,” Mrs. Caulfield looked at Cara. “Everything seems to be in order.”
Cara wondered if this was the closest Mrs. Caulfield got to give a compliment.
“Would you like to go out with me? I’d like to get the tango dancers ready for the opening dance.” Cara pushed her hands out like a tango dancer hoping to see Mrs. Caulfield smile but it was of no use.
"I suppose I should just be in the way out there, I'll stay here, for now, help get food out and whatnot." Mrs. Caulfield nodded to herself and immediately went to the door where a fresh bundle of delicacies were being brought in.
Cara walked out into the warm night air. The sound of music and people chattering was soothing. She made her way around the back patio, looked toward the dock where island dancers were beginning an easy rhythm into the early evening air. Cara had planned for the lighter music and dancing to begin the evening, the DJ would start inside in a few hours.
Despite it being his party, Cara didn’t see Marco Martinez anywhere. She watched guests laugh and talk, she watched women sensually eat the food they were handed, and men robustly place hands and mouths on their women.
Cara watched everything with a keen interest. She’d always been in the mix of things and it was different, almost wonderful, to be on the outside looking in.
After the first two hours went by Cara began to breathe more easily. Things were going very well. The food was excellent and there was no shortage of things to eat or bottles of the best champagne.
“You don’t look like you’re having a very good time,” the voice came from behind her and Cara turned to look at the speaker. The man was standing in a shadow and Cara squinted into the darkness.
“I’m having a wonderful time—and you?” Cara asked into the darkness.
“Come closer,” the man’s voice was low and powerful. Cara felt at once that she could not disobey anything it might ask and moved toward him despite a deep thudding in her chest. “I’ve never seen you before.”
“I’m new to Miami,” Cara could see the man’s outline and the glow of his eyes.
“Yes, I can see that. You are exquisite.” The voice was hungry and ferocious and the word exquisite made Cara put a hand to her chest. The man walked closer toward her and Cara felt incapable of walking away. Though everything in her body told her to draw back, to tend to her party, she leaned forward anyway.
The man's lips were hot, they tasted Cara fully. He breathed her in and Cara felt helpless to pull away. She immediately wanted this man. There was something addictive, and completely necessary to her survival in him.
Cara opened her eyes. The eyes that looked back were changing color. Deep gray turned to violet and then to orange.
"You're Marco Martinez," Cara said instantly recognizing the eyes of a dragon.