by Desiree Holt
As if he was tuned into her brain, John reached over and squeezed her thigh.
“If you’re quiet because you’re thinking about Masquerade, good enough and keep thinking. But if it’s about us, Lindsey, I hope those aren’t bad thoughts because it’s all good. More than good. I promise, no second thoughts this time at all. And I’m going to spend every spare minute proving it to you.”
Lucky for her she was spared the necessity of responding, as her electronic guide told her they’d reached their destination. The Spanish villa-style building sat back from the road on a quiet side street. It was larger than she’d assumed from the pictures, with some parking in the front and a sign directing people to more space in the back. Hibiscus trees in large ceramic pots stood on either side of the carved, wooden front door.
There were four cars in the parking lot, all of them high-end luxury vehicles. A driveway to the right led to parking in the rear of the building.
“No windows in the front of the building,” John commented.
“Privacy,” she pointed out. “And a sense of exclusivity. I’m going to go in and introduce myself. I’m wondering if you should wait for me here in the parking lot or take a trip around the block.” She tilted up her lips in a half-smile. “I’m not all that good at this secret-agent business.”
“Me neither, but I’d say parking lot. If you drove alone, you’d leave your car here, right? So just tell them you’re out with someone else from the agency stopping in to see various clients and assure them their service from Elite will not be interrupted in any way.”
“Good thought. Okay, wish me luck.”
“I know I don’t have to tell you this, but get as good a look as you can. And watch yourself.”
She smiled at him. “Believe me, I will.”
She stopped, took a deep breath and let it out, centering herself before she pulled open the heavy door and walked into Masquerade. The first thing she noted was the quiet luxury of the place. Instead of the usual tiled floor in the foyer, she stepped onto thick carpeting that silenced footsteps. The receptionist sat behind an antique desk, her computer and other equipment in a matching breakfront behind her with doors that could close everything off at night. Delicate-looking but comfortable furniture was attractively arranged for people who might be waiting. A single-serving coffee maker and a crystal water pitcher sat on a sideboard. Soft instrumental music drifted from hidden speakers.
The woman behind the desk, who looked to be in her thirties, could have been a walking ad for the place. Her shoulder-length hair fell in a perfect cut, her makeup impeccable and her elegant suit screamed money. As Lindsey approached, the woman rose and pasted her practiced smile on her face.
“Good afternoon. My name is Ria. Welcome to Masquerade. May I help you?”
“Yes. My name is Lindsey Califaro.” She handed the woman her card. “Executive vice-president of Elite Marketing. The spa is one of our clients.”
Ria took the card and studied it, then looked at Lindsey. “I’m sorry, I don’t handle any of this. Is there something I can do for you? A message I can relay?”
“Our president, the person who was in charge of this account, passed away suddenly. I’m trying to visit as many clients personally as I can, to assure them there will be no interruption in services. I’m wondering if by any chance the owner is here.”
“I see. No, she’s not usually on the premises.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’d really like to speak with her. You know, give her my personal assurances.”
The other woman studied Lindsey for a long moment. “Perhaps our manager could help you. Could you excuse me for a moment?”
“Of course.” She looked at the expensive menu of services on the desk. “Mind if I look at one of these while I wait?”
“Of course not.” She handed one to Lindsey. “I’ll be right back.”
The brochure was printed on pale blue vellum with navy ink and a design of ivy tracing the edges of each page. Expensive, Lindsey thought.
She took a seat in a small chair that was surprising in its comfort, and began to look over the list of offerings. The usual spa services were listed, the prices in line for what appeared to be a luxurious facility. Twice while she sat there looking it over, the door opened, both times admitting a woman who appeared to be about Lindsey’s age, with a girl she was sure was just out of her teens. Without waiting to be checked in, the woman opened one of the doors to the interior of the spa and hustled the girl through it. Lindsey tried to see what it looked like, but the door was closed in a hurry.
In seconds Ria was back at her desk.
“I informed our manager that you were here, and she’ll be right out to speak with you.”
“Is there some kind of prom going on?” Lindsey asked.
“What?” The young woman looked startled. “Excuse me?”
“I noticed some very lovely young girls arriving with women I guessed were their mothers, so I wondered what the occasion was.”
“Oh. Yes. Well. Not a dance. A private party. This is a special treat for them. We do this often.” Her smile was smooth and practiced. “You can’t introduce them to the delights of a spa early enough, right?”
“I suppose, although it seems a lot of money to spend on girls that age for one event.”
“Oh, no, not at all.” Ria spoke quickly. “As I said before, a very special occasion and their…parents…can well afford it.”
Lindsey noted this was the second time the woman had hesitated at the use of the word “parents”. She filed it away in her memory bank.
The front door opened again, and Ria excused herself to check in yet another young girl. This time when the door to the interior opened, Lindsey stood and followed them, craning her neck to look around them. What she saw was a day spa with the most luxurious appointments she’d ever seen, and she’d been to a lot of them.
“I’m sorry.” Ria touched her arm. “Only clients are permitted in the spa proper.” There was the trained smile again. “Privacy. I’m sure you understand.”
“Oh. Of course.”
Lindsey had barely nodded her thanks and moved to sit down again when a woman emerged from the interior. She was dressed in slacks and a collared silk blouse that Lindsey was sure didn’t come off any rack, fitting as if they were tailored for her. Her ebony-black hair was swept back from her face and fell just to her shoulders. Her makeup was as flawless as any Lindsey had ever seen.
She approached Lindsey with her hand out and a practiced smile on her face.
“Noreen Chandler, manager of Masquerade. I’m happy to meet you, Miss Califaro. Craig always took very good care of us. His death saddens us all.”
Her greeting was polished, her tone of voice pitched low and pleasing, but Lindsey got the distinct impression the woman wished she would vaporize. Disappear. Never come back. What on earth is going on here? Is it possible we were right about the real purpose of the spa?
“As it does us.” She matched her tone to the other woman’s. “We will miss him greatly, but I know he’d want us to keep things moving along. Be sure the clients were well taken care of.”
“Yes. I’m sure he would.” She glanced at her watch. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“That said, I’d like to set up an appointment to review everything with you and plan out your promotions for the next six months. We want all our clients to know that, despite Craig’s sudden death, Elite is still on top of things.”
“I understand, and I appreciate it. I do have to contact the owner. She’ll be the one making the decisions on everything.”
“Of course.” She handed Noreen a card. “I gave one of these to Ria, but you should have my contact information, also. I’ll be in touch in a couple of days.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary. They’ll be contacting you, I’m sure. It was nice to meet you, but if you’ll excuse me, we have a full house today. I need to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
“Yes, about that. I
noticed the young girls arriving. A special party, Ria said.”
Noreen nodded. “At their social level, it’s a common occurrence. Sort of a private debutante event.”
“I see. Well, since you’re so popular, before I leave I’d like to make an appointment for a full day for myself.”
“Oh.” An apologetic look washed over the manager’s face. “I’m so sorry, but we aren’t taking any new appointments for a while. Our calendar is completely full.”
“It is? Well, you must be very good.”
“We like to think so. Thank you for stopping by. We’ll be in touch.”
When she stepped out into the parking area, she noticed John had moved over to sit behind the steering wheel.
“Ready to make a getaway at a moment’s notice?” she teased, opening the door.
“No. Just thought it would look a little better.”
“Good thinking.”
As soon as she climbed in and closed the door, he edged out of the parking lot and drove off.
“How did it go? You weren’t in there very long.”
“Yes. Two women showed up with young girls. I’ll tell you about that in a minute. First let me give you directions back to the office. I want to tell Taylor and Noah about this.”
“So what did you find out? Anything?”
“Not much at all, as a matter of fact. It’s obviously a very high-end, very select spa. Luxuriously decorated and outfitted, with prices to match. But the interesting thing is, the clients who came in while I was there were young girls. I’d say neither of them was older than twenty. They were brought in by older women, who might or might not have been their mothers. No one my age came in.”
“Did you find a way to ask about it?”
“Of course. Ria, the receptionist, said there’s a posh private party they are all going to.”
John shrugged. “You and I have both seen those parties. Been to them. Parents bring their kids when they get old enough.”
“Yeah.” She leaned back in her seat, running everything through her brain. “I met Noreen, the manager, and gave her the spiel about how sad Craig’s death is for all of us but assured her that Elite was not going to let anything fall through the cracks. I told her I wanted to meet with the owner to discuss their upcoming marketing plans.”
“And?”
“She gave me a polite brush-off. Said she’d have to have the owner get back to me, but she didn’t sound like she was in a hurry to make that happen. Also, I tried to book a full day for myself, and she very nicely told me they were booked for the foreseeable future.”
“And we already discussed how out of the ordinary that is.”
“Right. Like I told you before, I have been going to spas for years and have never yet had one turn me away. No matter how full their schedule is, they always find a way to work you in. Maybe not on the day you want but close enough. Also, she told me they do a lot of these special groups like the girls I saw today.”
John frowned. “So, if they’re that busy, why do they even need a marketing plan at all? Sounds like they’ve almost got more business than they can handle.”
“I agree. I’d say it’s not even necessary.” Lindsey rubbed her forehead. “John, are we making something out of nothing here?”
“Maybe, but I’d say no. This is one of those things that makes me want to turn over every virtual rock and find out what’s beneath it.” He turned into the parking garage for Elite’s office building. “Let’s see what emerges when I dig into Craig’s bank accounts tomorrow.” He grinned. “And while I’m at it, if I happen to slip into Masquerade’s, who’s to know?”
Lindsey chuckled. “I’m sure glad you’re on our side, that’s all I’m sayin’.”
“You know if there’s something there, I’ll find it. No matter how smart they are, when people start hiding money, they always make a mistake.”
“It’s almost six o’clock,” Lindsey told him, glancing at her watch as they rode up in the building’s elevator. “Let’s tell Taylor what we learned, which may be nothing, and see what she and Noah have on-going.”
“Sounds good.” He started to say something else, but just then the elevator doors opened.
“What?” she asked.
“Later. Let’s take care of business first.”
Chapter Twelve
Arianna stood with as much patience as she could muster while an assistant blotted the perspiration from her body and reapplied her makeup. She had been posing in this teeny-weeny bikini for three hours already and she was getting tired. And thirsty. It was hot as hell on the Caribbean island. The sun was unrelenting and today there wasn’t even a whisper of a breeze.
The small plane had dropped them here three days ago and everything had been nonstop since then. At first she’d been over-the-top excited about this opportunity. The test shoot in New York had gone well, the photographer had praised her, and before she could blink, she’d been loaded onto this plane with the others and flown to this lush tropical island.
She’d never been to a place like this before. Face it, she’d never been anyplace besides Ohio and New York and the bus ride from point to point. And for sure not to a private island owned by one person. A house so big she was sure that without directions she could get lost in it. One with an indoor and an outdoor pool, as well as a private beach. A house so enormous, with enough bedrooms that each of them had their own.
If only she could share this. The agent had asked the girls to hand in their cell phones, promising to give them back after the shoot was finished.
“No distractions,” he’d teased.
Still, she’d managed in the ladies’ room at the office to call her roommate and tell her what was happening, with a promise to call later with more details.
Each day after they were finished, they’d been given the opportunity for a swim. Just swimming, no posing. Three of the girls had chosen a pool, but she’d never been to the beach before so she and Maya had indulged themselves, standing in the water and letting the waves roll in over them, basking in the Caribbean sun.
At night, a cook prepared dinner and they were served on what she was sure was the finest china and crystal. Then they went to sleep in beds big enough for four people with sheets like satin and fluffy pillows. The entire atmosphere was enough to seduce anyone into a world of pleasure. How would she handle it when she had to return to her fourth-floor walkup in New York? Chances were now she could afford to move, and maybe still be friends with some of these girls. The thought cheered her up.
If anything bothered her at all, it was the man introduced to her as the owner. Although he was middle-aged, he looked like he worked out every day. He was tan and fit and treated them with gracious cordiality. It did bother her that while he smiled a lot, that smile looked artificial. More than that, however, was the look in his eyes, like he was measuring her for something. It frightened her. Maybe that was the look he gave people he did business with, and it had become permanent.
She looked at the four other girls who were involved in this shoot with her and wondered if they felt that same way. She was afraid to ask them. What if they said something to the agent and he sent her home? And she never got paid?
She thought again about dinner and the rooms they’d been given. Such big rooms for each of them. At first Arianna thought it was to give them privacy but today, out of nowhere, she’d suddenly been struck with the feeling it was to keep them apart. And she had no idea why. They’d all eaten dinner together, but then the man in charge, the same one she’d met in New York, had ushered each of them to bed with a big smile and a bedtime glass of champagne.
“It’s important each of you gets plenty of rest,” he’d told them. “We want you to look perfect in the photos.”
Get over yourself, idiot. This is your chance to make a lot of money and have a career. Stop being a ninny.
The agent had been sitting in a beach chair watching the shoot. Now he rose and headed over to where Arianna was standi
ng, waiting to be called again.
“Getting tired?” He smiled at her, his teeth very white against his sun-darkened skin.
She nodded. “Just a little.”
“We’ll break for lunch in a few. The meal will be served in the house, where it’s cooler, then you girls have the afternoon off.”
“Oh? Are we finished with shooting all the pictures?”
He nodded. “We have an excellent collection to select from. I am happy with all of you. A very successful shoot.” He rubbed his hands together.
“Can you tell me what magazines this is for? And when it will appear? I’d like to tell my friends.”
Not that she had that many, but she didn’t think it would be good for him to know she was all alone in the world.
“It’s actually for several ad layouts. I’ll be sure you have the information.” He grinned. “Tonight, we celebrate with a small party. You’ll have fun.”
“Party?” Why did the thought frighten her? Who would be there except the crew, the girls and this man?
“Yes. Our host has invited a few close friends to help us celebrate the success of the shoot. They like to meet the models and brag to people when the ads come out that they know you.”
She was surprised that people on this level of wealth were a bunch of groupies, but she just nodded.
“So tomorrow we go home?”
“That’s the schedule, but we may have a little surprise trip for you all. You know, as a reward for good work.”
“Trip to where?”
“Ah.” He smiled “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Look. Here comes one of the gofers with iced water for you. Have a drink. It will cool you off. We are almost done here.”
As he walked away, Arianna realized he hadn’t given her a real answer to her question. The knot of fear in her stomach that had developed yesterday tightened at once into a big fist.