by Krista Lakes
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “That’s, um, that’s…” Her head fell into her palms as she racked her brain. “That’s that actor.. he's Irish...” When Sabrina looked up again she was glad to see Valetta smiling, as if she was amused by the struggle for her to place the actor. “That’s the guy whose daughter is always getting kidnapped in every movie.”
Valetta laughed. “Liam Neeson?” she suggested.
“Yes,” Sabrina said, allowing herself to join Valetta’s laughing. “It was on the tip of my tongue.”
“That’s okay, you passed,” Valetta said, and Sabrina wondered if that meant that she hadn’t passed with the other pictures. She slid another picture so that it was facing Sabrina.
It was a picture of a young blonde woman wearing a red dress. She appeared to be dancing in a rainstorm in the middle of some city, with taxi cabs parked behind her.
“No, I'm afraid not.” Sabrina’s throat tightened and again she felt the presence of sweat on her hands. She had no idea if it was good or bad that she didn't recognize any of these people. She had to assume not.
Valetta retrieved another photo, this one Sabrina recognized instantly.
“Oh, that’s the Queen of England,” Sabrina said, proudly. More than the queen herself, though, Sabrina had recognized the dogs she was posed with.
At least I got that one, she thought.
Valetta continued with several more photographs. Several were of famous actors and celebrities, but many more seemed to be of ordinary people. Some faces were even repeated, but in different poses. Sabrina hoped that the fact that she had no idea who ninety percent of the photos were wasn't going to cost her this job.
“Good,” Valetta said, collecting the photos and sliding them back into the folder. “I realize that this might seem like a silly test, but I assure you that we do it for a reason. There is a method to our madness.”
“I'm happy to do whatever you need,” Sabrina replied. She smiled and tried to ignore the feeling of failure weighing down on her shoulders.
“Now, I have some questions for you.” Valetta tucked the manila folder under her pad of paper and poised her pen to write. “ I know this is probably a very cliché question, but I’d like to hear you talk about your strengths.”
It might have been cliché, but it was the exact question Sabrina needed. She knew how to answer this question, and it gave her confidence after the failure of the images.
“Certainly. I think my biggest strength is my work ethic. I come from humble beginnings, but it has only ever been a motivational tool for me. I’ve always believed that hard work pays off and I’ve approached every job I’ve ever had with a mindset that I’m going to give it my all, no matter what. I also believe that my work ethic naturally translates to being a loyal and dependable employee.”
Valetta nodded and marked something on her pad of paper. “And being a hard worker, have you had any experience doing maid work or acting as someone’s assistant?”
“I have actually,” Sabrina said, recalling a summer many years ago between her junior and senior year of high school. “I worked at a maid service for a few months one summer. We usually cleaned anywhere from three to five different homes a day.” She paused, then added, “But you could pick up extra houses if you finished early, so I did that pretty often as well.”
“Excellent,” Valetta said. Sabrina exhaled softly, as if she’d just made it through the first of nine innings.
One question down, a million to go. Remain calm and speak slowly, she reminded herself.
“Can you tell me about other jobs you’ve had, Sabrina?”
“Of course. My first job was as a dishwasher while I was in high school, but I became a waitress when I graduated.” She paused. Here was where she wished she could say she went to school or had done something with her life, but she hadn't. She'd just worked instead of going to college so that bills were paid and food was on the table. “I still work there, in addition to my retail position.”
“You currently work two positions?” Valetta asked, her pen poised above the paper.
“Yes,” Sabrina said with a nod. “I'm a hard worker and these positions have given me a fair amount of experience dealing with people and have taught me a lot about what it takes to make a customer happy.”
“Quite the handy skill set,” Valetta said, looking up from her notes. “And that’s actually a great segue into my next topic. I’m going to ask you a few questions about hypothetical situations that might arise while on the job. Take a moment to think about it and then tell me how you’d respond.”
Sabrina nodded.
“Picture this scenario,” Valetta said. “Say you are out with my client, a local businessman, in a public place and a stranger approaches the two of you. The stranger claims to know my client, but clearly that is not the case. Also, this man happens to strike you as being slightly suspicious. What would be your response in a situation like this?”
“Regardless of whether or not the stranger seemed suspicious, I’d attempt to consult your client and follow his lead. If he's uncomfortable with the stranger, then that person is not to be trusted,” Sabrina replied. “You said that I'm not a bodyguard, so in this instance, I would try to alert his security or find a way for us to get to a safe place.”
“Good answer,” Valetta said, her lips curling up into a pleased smile. “Let me give you another situation. While sightseeing, my client, a well-known public figure, sees a nice bar and decides he’d like to grab a drink and spend an evening downtown. You join him, but also notice that while enjoying himself he’s become involved with a female who’s had a bit too much to drink and is now drawing unnecessary attention to my client. How would you respond?”
Sabrina paused. This question was a potential minefield, but she felt confident she could answer it. She'd dealt with plenty of women like that as a waitress.
“It depends on what the client wants,” Sabrina replied. “I'd hate to ruin an evening for him, so if he wants the woman to continue with him, I'd find a way to get them to a more private location. If he does not want the woman with him, I'd find a way to separate them. However, it is up to the client.”
Valetta smiled slightly and her eyes flicked toward the mirror. “How would you separate them, if that is what the client wished?”
“First, I would pay the woman's bar tab and then tell the woman that she had something in her teeth and that she should go check the mirror,” Sabrina answered. “While she was away, the client would leave the bar. I would have the bartender tell the woman an emergency came up and he had to leave.”
“That would solve the problem.” Valetta frowned slightly. “But why pay her bar tab?”
“If the goal is to avoid unnecessary attention, a happy customer is always better than one who feels that she has been jilted. In a drunken state, the woman could easily believe that he'd left her with the bill and would come looking for him,” Sabrina explained. “You said he was a public figure, so this way, there would be no public backlash.”
“Excellent answer,” Valetta said with an approving nod. She smiled and turned to face the two-way mirror, obviously anticipating someone to receive her comment from the other side. “I have a few more questions for you-”
Her phone buzzed on the table with an incoming message, cutting her off. Valetta glanced at it and smiled.
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I’m going to leave the room for a moment,” Valetta said, pocketing her phone. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Of course,” Sabrina said, noticing that her palms were clammy enough that it was uncomfortable. She wiped them on her skirt under the table, but she wasn't sure it did much good.
I blew it, she thought and tried to tame her disappointment before it turned to tears. While she felt she'd answered the questions well, she knew she'd bombed the photo section. Plus, the fact that the interviewer was leaving in the middle of the interview was never a good sign.
What the hell kind of interview is this any
way? Am I interviewing for a job, or a spot on a game show? She tried not to think about it, since she knew it would make her cry.
Part of her wanted to stand up and leave before Valetta returned to say that she didn’t get the job because of her poor pop culture identification, or whatever it was that she had been trying to learn about Sabrina during the barrage of strange photos.
The floor was crumbling beneath her, or so it felt, and the prospect of finally getting a college education was actively shattering along with it. This job was her first real ticket to a better life, but she could feel it slipping through her fingers.
Valetta reentered the room and gave her a warm smile.
Sabrina clenched her hands in preparation for bad news.
Valetta took her time sitting down. She no longer carried the manila folder and instead had a large stack of papers. Sabrina hoped they weren't more photos for her to identify.
“Before we continue, do you have any questions for me?” Valetta asked as if she had never left.
“Um... no?” Sabrina's mind went blank. Way to impress your potential employer, she thought.
“Before we go any further, I need you to sign this nondisclosure agreement.” Valetta slid the packet of paper across the table. “It's fairly standard, but it basically says that you won't tell anyone who you met here today.”
“Okay,” Sabrina replied. She read through the paperwork, trying her best to understand the dense legalese wording. It matched with what Valetta said, so after a moment, Sabrina signed the paperwork and sent it back across the table.
“Excellent.” Valetta turned in her seat and gently tapped her knuckle on the glass behind her. Then she stood and went to stand by the door.
The door creaked open, and a man stepped into the room. Sabrina recognized him instantly from one of the photos.
It's the guy from the second picture. The one with the shoulder-length black hair and beautiful dark eyes.
The man was tall and wore an expensive-looking white dress shirt tucked into a crisp pair of dark grey slacks. It was a similar outfit to the one he had been wearing in the photo. Immediately, it felt as if the room got smaller, his large persona crowding the space.
He nodded toward Sabrina with a smile that grew from the hard edge of his chin and curled into his lips.
“I’d like to introduce you to Marco... Smith,” Valetta said. The way she said it made it obvious that 'Smith' was not the man's real name.
The man’s smile grew even more as he neared the table and extended a hand while Sabrina stood to shake it. His grip was firm, but his skin gentle and smooth.
“Hello,” he said with another nod. His voice was tuned with a deep accent that was as melodic as it was foreign.
“Hello,” Sabrina said, a smile spreading across her face. “I’m Sabrina.”
“I know who you are,” the man said, still smiling. It was then that Sabrina realized she was still gripping his hand. She quickly released and sat back down. “I came in to offer you the job.”
“Really?” Sabrina said, a little shocked that she was being offered the position on the spot. It was a good thing she was sitting, or her knees might have buckled.
“Really,” Marco assured her, taking a seat in the chair Valetta had vacated a moment earlier.
“Marco and I feel that you would be great for the position,” Valetta said and turned toward Marco, who nodded in agreement.
“I think you would be wonderful,” Marco said, every word sounding like its own subtle, musical note. His accent had a slightly different ring than Valetta’s, whose chipper voice overshadowed her inflections.
Marco was directly across from Sabrina with both forearms rested against the table. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, creating contrast against his tan skin. At the end of his wrist was a tightly fitted gold Rolex.
Sabrina’s first thought was that she’d just been hired to assist some sort of model, a rather wealthy one, looking to spend some time in the United States in order to escape his fame. She also toyed with the idea that he was a foreign athlete. Although concealed, his frame and shoulders indicated a sturdy figure beneath a layer of expensive clothing.
“Wow,” Sabrina said, taken aback both by the sudden offer and the aura of the man sitting in front of her.
Both Valetta and Marco smiled back at her, as though they anticipated her level of shock.
“Take your time making a decision,” Valetta said. “But do keep in mind that we hope to begin traveling before the end of the week.”
“Can I accept the job right now?” Sabrina asked, giddy with excitement.
Valetta’s eyebrows rose with a smile. “Of course you can.”
Sabrina allowed herself a soft laugh. “Is that okay or did I just make myself look incredibly desperate?”
This time it was Marco who answered. “It’s very okay,” he said. “I was hoping you’d say 'yes'.”
Sabrina forced herself to meet his gaze, which was concentrated and direct. His dark eyes were highlighted by the definition of his facial features. They were large and carried a deep and intriguing intensity.
“Okay then,” Valetta said, feeding off of Marco. “You’re hired!”
A weight that she didn’t even realize was there lifted from Sabrina’s shoulders. For the first time that morning, she felt at peace. At peace and ecstatic. Her chest, which had once been crowded with nervous butterflies, was now filled with a delighted energy. She inhaled, feeling her breath all the way into her lungs. A goofy smile had slowly consumed her face, but she didn’t care.
I can’t believe it, she thought, her excitement spreading to each of her four limbs. This is really happening.
This job offer was a promise that in only three months’ time she’d make enough for four years of college without another job in between. She could concentrate on her schoolwork and finally live the life she wanted. The reality of this amazing opportunity was just starting to set in.
“You said you’re from around here?” Marco asked, a question that helped to bring Sabrina out of her daze.
“Yes, I am,” Sabrina said. “Born and raised.”
“Yes, you have a thick accent,” Marco said, gesturing with his hands.
“Really?” Sabrina blushed. She'd spent most of her life trying to hide her southern accent. She'd worked hard to learn how to speak like she'd grown up on the right side of town rather than in a trailer park. 'Non regional diction', they called it.
Marco chuckled. “You do, but I like it. And don't feel bad, everyone in America has an accent to me. I'm sure you can hear my accent very clearly as well.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Sabrina said, scanning his beautiful features and taking them in all over again. “I like your accent, too. Can I ask where you are from?”
In her peripheral vision, Sabrina saw Valetta look to Marco, awaiting his response.
“I’m from the Mediterranean,” Marco said, without returning Valetta’s glance. “From a very small island.”
With his finger and thumb he made an indication of something small.
“Welcome to America,” she said enthusiastically.
“Thank you, Sabrina from Memphis,” Marco said with his warmest smile yet.
She giggled. “You’re welcome, Marco from 'small Mediterranean island'.”
This time his laugh came from deep in his chest.
His smile is going to consume me, she thought. How am I going to survive working for this hunk for the next three months? Making ridiculous money won’t hurt, so maybe that’ll keep me focused. What a wonderful combination, though. Am I dreaming?
“Now I have some paperwork for you to sign,” Valetta said, moving to put yet another set of papers in front of Sabrina. “This is your contract. If you'd like a lawyer to look over it, you are welcome to.”
Sabrina knew she couldn't afford a lawyer. Besides, she didn't even know what kind of lawyer she would need to hire. The only lawyers she knew were the ones f
rom TV and the car accident commercials, and somehow neither of those seemed like the kind to look over a contract.
“There are a couple of things that I would like to point out as non-negotiable,” Valetta continued before Sabrina said anything. “First, my client is to remain anonymous. This is per his wishes. You are not to attempt to obtain outside knowledge about him. Any attempts will be met with immediate dismissal and legal action.”
“You mean, I'm not allowed to Google him or look him up on social media?” Sabrina asked slowly, making sure she understood.
“Correct.” Valetta nodded. “Also, there is another nondisclosure agreement in there. You will be a part of Marco's life, and as such, you are never to reveal personal details without his permission.”
“I never would,” Sabrina assured them both. “I don't talk about people behind their backs.”
Marco smiled and looked at Valetta like he had expected Sabrina to make such a statement. His dark eyes sparkled with an inner warmth that Sabrina couldn't help but smile back at.
“You came very highly recommended,” Marco informed her. He held out a pen for her to sign with. “It will be a pleasure working with you.”
Sabrina grinned and took the pen. It was a nice pen with a good deal of weight to it, but as she signed her name with a flourish, it felt like it weighed nothing. With the ink of the page, the door to her future opened.
Chapter 2
Marco
Prince Marco strolled across the floor of his hotel suite. It was a nice room, there was no doubt about it. It had the best amenities of any hotel in Memphis, at least that's what Valetta assured him. It was filled with big leather furniture, stainless steel kitchen appliances in the over-sized attached kitchen, and floor to ceiling windows alone the outside wall. It also included a hot tub in the bathroom and a massive balcony that overlooked downtown Memphis.
Despite its grandiose appearance, the place was significantly smaller than his own bedroom at his palace on Orsino Island. He didn’t mind, though. It made the trip feel more real. He didn't care if it was the biggest or the best because he was on his own. This was the last time his life would be his own and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.