6:00 a.m. – Breakfast
6:30 a.m. – Main Floor Daily Schedule*
11:00 a.m. – Break
10:15 a.m. – West Wing Daily Schedule*
1:00 p.m. – Lunch
1:30 p.m. – East Wing Daily Schedule*
4:00 p.m. – Break
4:15 p.m. – Misc. Spot Cleaning
5:00 p.m. – Dinner**
5:30 p.m. – Walk Through
7:00 p.m. – End Day***
* Daily cleaning routines found in red binder
** Dinner hour subject to change
*** End day subject to change
Cara glanced around the room and saw the red binder on the same shelf from which Maurice had pulled her paperwork. There were four binders in total, each in various colors upon the white slat. The binders were overfilled with papers, and the red one seemed ready to explode. Cara let out another breath and turned to the next page. Looks like you have some reading to do, she told herself, feeling her heart sink. On some level, she had realized that the job was going to require extensive training but she was only coming to terms with the depth of that as she sat alone in the staff room. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed at the prospect. Am I really ready to start new at this again? She asked herself. It didn’t matter if she was ready or not; she was there and it was happening.
The next five sheets of papers were filled with “Rules of the House.” Cara blinked and rubbed her eyes. Her face twisted into a grimace as she began to read. This can’t be real. What am I, twelve years old? This is insane. Yet the more she read, the faster those almost forsaken doubts came flooding back through her. What did I get myself into? There were literally one hundred rules and they included such beauties as “absolutely no fornication within the house walls” “no sexual fraternization among staff members” and “you may not consort with any person with whom Mr. Lamoreaux may have business dealings in either a domestic or foreign situation.” From what Cara gleaned, the idea was to not have any form of social life involving other people. Cara had no way of knowing if Tabitha had concocted them or if they had come directly from Connor Lamoreaux himself but either way, she wanted to run screaming from the mansion by the time she had finished reading. These people were loony, applying rules as if they were living in a quad residence – or monastery. She hadn’t even looked at the list of chores yet. Suddenly feeling very hot in her own skin, Cara stood up and sprinted out of the staff room, slipping into the house without being noticed by Maurice. She made her way back in the dining room and she welcomed the shadows behind the drapes. She felt like a small child, hiding from the Bogeyman. Blinking away tears of self-pity she stared up at the heavens and wondered how had she even ended up there, a lowly servant in a big, lonely house.
Chapter Two
Nine Years Earlier
She had only been at the prestigious private school for two weeks when the invites had begun. There were movie offers and suggestions of weekend yacht parties, even trips skiing in Switzerland all with unspoken sexual undercurrents but Cara had no interest in any of them. While her twin brother Jaime had flourished among the privileged children in the Junior class of Flaxfair Collegiate, Cara found the entire school a huge culture shock and she constantly felt out of her element. She had never handled change exceptionally well and she was painfully aware that the only reason she and Jaime were even permitted within the ivy covered walls was because their parents were the head caretakers of the school. One of the perks of the job had been a full scholarship for the Castillo children and the senior Castillo’s had jumped on the opportunity. In fact, it was probably the main reason they had accepted the position at all. Being working class Mexican immigrants, they had strived their entire lives to make life easier and better for their offspring and now the universe had presented them with an incredible opportunity. Before beginning the school year, Andréa Castillo had sat her children down and had a sobering conversation with them, one that Cara was sure she would never forget as long as she lived.
“Queridos, when you go to this school you will meet the sons and daughters of senators, doctors and even future presidents. You will be exposed to the best education and riches that you never thought you would ever see. You must take this chance and use it to make your lives better. We were born poor but that doesn’t mean you have to stay that way. Do you understand?”
“Sí, mamá,” they chorused. Yet Cara had a feeling more was coming.
“I want you both to embrace that life like it is your own. You must tell everyone that you are from Mexico but also come from a rich family. We will say that your parents are in oil.” The twins stared at her with matching emerald eyes of confusion.
“What do you mean, mamá?” Jaime had asked, his black brows furrowing into a v shape. Andréa lowered her eyes and paused.
“You must pretend not to know your father and I when you see us,” she said quietly. Cara shook her head vehemently.
“No, mamá! You always tell us to be proud of where we come from! I won’t do it!” she yelled. The senior Castillo gently placed her hand on her daughter’s arm and smiled sadly.
“This is important, querida. This school will ensure you have the future you deserve. Please don’t argue with me. When you come home on the weekends, everything will be the same. We are still your parents and we would never ask you to turn your back on your roots. I am just asking you to play a role, like an actress. You always liked being in your school plays, Cara. It’s the same thing.” Cara continued to protest but the matter was not up for negotiation and when the twins began the year, they had absorbed the characters of well-to-do children at their parents’ tireless coaching.
They were genuinely lovely, the Castillo siblings, thick black waves and twinkling emerald green eyes, some exotic throw back from their Aztec ancestors. Even at the tender age of fifteen, Cara was blossoming into a smoldering, exquisite beauty with high cheekbones and rosebud pink lips. Her figure was already shaping into that of a woman’s with curvy hips and a budding, firm bust line. The other kids at the school noticed the new girl and her brother right away so it was no surprise that the offers came in fast and furious. But while Jaime was off relishing the attention, attending Senior parties, skipping class and dating the entire east coast, Cara was focused on school work and maintaining her fantastic grade point average. She had always had a symbiotic bond with animals and it had been her dream to be a veterinarian. She was determined to make her mother proud, given the sacrifice she and her father had made for them. That was until Damien.
Damien was also a Junior and his family owned a chain of high end jewelry stores all over New York, Pennsylvania and North Carolina. He had an aura of money which Cara was beginning to find distasteful. She was quickly finding the words wealth and arrogance to be synonymous. Above that, Damien also had a reputation for being a playboy, having slept with several of her female peers and never calling them again. Cara was well acquainted with whom was flashing her a dazzling white smile when he approached Cara one day after school. He casually invited her to a “get together” at his home in Manhattan over the weekend but Cara was not even remotely interested, even though he was physically very appealing to her eyes. She was bracing herself for an argument or cajoling by the attractive boy. Yet, to her surprise, the rejection barely fazed him in the slightest and he sauntered off down the hall, shrugging. Just as he was about to turn the corner he made a comment in a slightly raised voice but Cara still had to strain to hear his words.
“It’s too bad,” he called back to her, barely turning around. “I make the best empanadas in the world.”
Cara had felt her heart stop. What does he mean by that? Is that a dig about my background? Does he know who my parents are? Is he threatening me with exposure? Cara knew her parents would be devastated if the twins were discovered as being poor. As a rush of emotions overwhelmed Cara, she found herself chasing after Damien to demand an explanation and beg him to remain silent.
He laughed as she tugg
ed on his shirt, forcing him to face her.
“What do you mean by that? Why would you think I like empanadas?” she challenged, her voice quavering.
“You look exactly like Esmerelda from that Disney movie,” he told her, smiling warmly. “I just assumed you had some Latina in you and might enjoy some homemade cuisine. Especially because I’m so good at cooking. My specialty is exotic cuisine.” The innuendo was not lost on her but in spite of the obvious undertones, it had somehow it had started. She had gone to that “get together” and every other party he hosted from then on. To her surprise, he remained at her side, catering to her every time they were together and introduced her to the who’s who in their school. After a few months, she was spending weekends at his home on West Fifth Avenue, in her own private room. His parents knew her well and recognized her as Damien’s friend and nothing else. Over time, the room became more hers than the one she had with her parents. Damien was always a perfect gentleman with her, never making advances as if he knew rushing things would scare her off. He would have been right. His patience was rewarded as it wasn’t long before Cara realized she was falling in love with him. She also knew logically that there was no way that it could ever work between the two of them. They were from two completely different worlds. Even after a year of dating, she still hadn’t disclosed her family situation to him, always managing to avoid having him over and changing the subject whenever the topic of her parents arose. It was all going too well until the beginning of their senior year.
They skipped school and took a day trip to Central Park with a picnic in hand and stole away to their favorite hidden spot, the Shakespearean Garden. It was a crisp autumn day and there were a few dark clouds hovering above but they didn’t seem to notice. Damien had brought along a bottle of very expensive champagne which he had pilfered from a dinner party his parents’ had hosted the previous evening. For a brief, idealistic moment, Cara had thought he was going to propose to her. They had discussed marriage casually a few times but they had agreed that they would wait to take that step after they had finished college. Their conversations were about everything and nothing that day and when Cara thought back on the day, she couldn’t remember any specific topic they had discussed but she did recall that every so often he would reach over and brush a shiny black tendril of hair away from her cheek and place a sweet kiss on her lips. The alcohol began to warm her belly and they snacked on cheese and caviar, laughing and touching. Suddenly, Cara looked into his dark blue eyes and she realized that she was very much in love with him, not merely in the throes of some childish affection. When he leaned in for another gentle kiss, she found herself responding with eagerness, surprising him. He did not pull away but instead wrapped his hand through her thick waves and drew her face close to his. Their tongues met and teased each other playfully and Damien’s mouth found its way along the contour of her beautiful face and slowly lowered his face down her neck, his breaths warm and exciting of her goose- bumped skin. His fingers were unbuttoning her silk blouse and caring hands cupped her full, taught breasts. His tongue found his way to her nipples and Cara felt a rush of wetness between her thighs as he flicked at the erect skin. Moaning quietly, she found herself lifting her skirt to feel herself as his hands continued their journey under her panties and around her firm rear. He slowly and deliberately lowered her purple silk panties over calves, his lips following the path the delicate lingerie was taking. He sighed with excitement as he felt the moisture in the sweet cleft and sat back to undo his jeans. Cara was trembling. She had never come this far before but had never been surer that she wanted Damien deep inside her. He lowered his boxers and spread her long, tan legs open. With one quick movement, he leaned down and licked her juices with a long, firm move and then plunged himself into her swiftly. Cara cried out with passion and pain and Damien immediately slowed but she grabbed him by the hips and ground her waist against him. He pulled her close and they fell into an almost frenzied rhythm. Cara arched her back against him, her hard nipples pressing against his chest and he whispered, “I love you, Cara.”
Cara climaxed almost violently for the first time in her life and Damien followed within seconds. They lay in each other’s arms, even as the rain began to fall and then Damien shattered her entire world.
“I’ve been pre-accepted at Harvard. I’m going to be moving to Boston next fall.”
After that, Cara had been forced to come clean with him about her heritage. She had tried her best to avoid doing so but then Damien had suggested that she apply to Cornell University. It had an amazing veterinary program and they would only be five hours away from one another but still at Ivy League schools. Cara had no choice but to tell him the truth. Even with her grades and all of the scholarships the school had to offer, she was not going to be able to afford any high end school. Ever stoic and loving Damien handled her confession with his usual ease and came up with a perfect solution. Why didn’t she go work for his parents in Manhattan while they were both in college? She could save up money, they would be together every holiday and then when they graduated, they would be married. By then, Damien reasoned, his parents would have considered her part of the family anyway and the economic status wouldn’t be such a big issue. And young, naïve, impressionable Cara had believed his words.
The first year had gone by painfully slow for Cara. She had moved into the Carlyle house and thrown herself headfirst into her studies, attending the prestigious but not quite Ivy League New York University (a fact that all of their school friends did not let her forget). She had been a strong enough academic candidate to warrant several scholarships but the cost of tuition and books was still well over what she had expected to pay. She had run herself ragged, somehow managing both a full time work and school schedule and the only thing that had kept Cara going was the thought of Damien at the end of the tunnel. There had been endless letters and phone calls but it never seemed enough. She was exceeding lonely and Cara’s heart ached for yearning to be near him. When Damien finally had come home, they made love with wild abandon but by the time, seeming unable to get enough of one another. However, by the Christmas of the second year, Cara could sense a distance in him. He wasn’t as affectionate and he didn’t steal into her room at night as often as he had in the start. He went out most nights and later that year, Cara’s father passed away suddenly. With his death being such an emotional and financial shock to her family, Cara had been forced to drop out of college so she could work another job to help take care of her mother. Andréa Castillo, who had not been able to get over the abrupt loss of her beloved husband, spent days confined to bed without eating. Jamie forsook his party animal lifestyle to move in with their mother so Cara could continue working at the brownstone. While it had been devastating to witness her mother in such a downward spiral, Cara knew the love her mother had for her father was stronger than the death which separated them. She also felt like hers and Damien’s was just as strong and she hoped that she would die first so that she would never have to endure such agony.
The summer following the end of the second school year, Damien didn’t come home at all and went to Europe with his friends instead. Cara was still living in the Carlyle home, desperately praying for some sort of correspondence from him. He did not write to her the entire summer and there was only one phone call. While Damien did have a casual conversation with her during that call, Cara was left feeling that he had only made the connection to speak with his parents and she had answered the phone unexpectedly.
In the third year, Cara was working at the Carlyle house during the day and cleaning offices part time at night. The weekends, she picked up hours when she could and if she was not working, she would go relieve Jamie and stay with their mother. She was averaging about three hours of sleep a night and there was no reprieve in sight. Cara wanted so badly to believe that Damien still intended to come home from college and marry her but there were no more letters or phone calls. Damien barely acknowledged her when he did come home, which was n
ot often. Cara tried to justify his aloofness as him working too hard. You just need to wait until he finished business school, she told herself. Then if he is still standoffish, you can move on. But until then, you need to hang in there.
At the end of the third school year, just when she had basically given up hope of reconciliation with the love of her life, the old Damien returned to her. From the moment he walked in the door for the summer, he was the old Damien, the playful, joking, loving man she had fallen so deeply in love with. He was sneaking into her room in the middle of the night, waking her up with kisses and endless lovemaking marathons, even trying different positions he had never attempted prior. They were back to how they were when it had all started, heart racing, stars in their eyes. The following August, he embraced her tightly their last night together, told her he loved her and gave her the longest, sweetest kiss before he returned to Harvard that morning. Cara was happy again. The endless work, the lack of sleep and the feelings of depression had all dissipated like a vapor in a scorching sunray. She was glad she had waited for him and she spent hours daydreaming about their wedding and the life they would build. She would go back to school once he had established his career and they would move to a modest farm upstate where she could raise horses and they would grow their own food. Their closest neighbors would be miles away and they could make unadulterated love in the barn and under the stars. They would have four children, two girls and two boys, maybe even a set of twins. The girls would look like her and the boys, exactly like Damien. The dreams were so real, she could almost sense what their country home would smell like.
Romance: Pummel Me: A Boxing Romance Page 47