FOR.BIDDEN LOVERS

Chapter 10: Rule Number One

Claire

What makes a person drink to the extent of passing out? I don't know the answer to that, but I do know we all mask our problems with something that will take the pain away.

As Jill's chest slowly rises and recedes, I wonder what pain alcohol is masking in her life. My mom taught me everyone has a story and based on last night, I can tell she's been through a lot.

I walk into Jill's kitchen and fill a black Old Dutch cast iron teapot with water. I turn on the gas stove and place the teapot over the fire.

When Jill wakes up, she probably won't remember me putting her in the car and driving to her home or helping her walk into the house and laying her on the couch. Life can be quite interesting at times. When Jill and I first met, she was reviewing my license to verify my identity. I never thought I would be rummaging through her pocketbook to find her license and drive her home.

I hope she doesn't remember telling me about certain activities at Hilltop Manor that are quite disturbing. Activities such as large amounts of cash found stashed in the casino closets and Dexter using burner phones.

I run to the kitchen as the teapot whistles hoping it doesn't startle Jill. As I remove the teapot from the stove, I hear a bang. I turn my head towards the living room as Jill jumps up and starts yelling. “Who the hell is in my house?"

“Jill, it's me, Claire," I yell, putting my hands in the air.

“Oh my God, Claire." I could have shot you. I have guns stashed everywhere in here. Jill places her hand over her heart and takes a deep breath.

“Claire, what are you doing here?" Jill sits down on the couch and groans, God, my head is killing me."

I pour the hot water into two coffee mugs and place a bag of green tea in each cup. I rumble through Jill's cabinets looking for honey and spoons.

“Honey is in the pantry and spoons are in the drawer below the microwave," Jill yells.

I grab the spoons and stir honey into both cups of tea. I love all types of tea. Before I moved to Malibu, my mother and I would have tea and biscuits every Sunday morning.

“Ugh, what happened last night?" Jill asks, running her fingers through her hair.

I grab both glasses of tea and walk towards the living room. I hand Jill her cup of tea and sit in the recliner beside her.

“You were pretty wasted last night," I reply, inhaling the aroma from the tea.

“Claire, I am so sorry. Please don't fire me. I promise I've never been that drunk before. Well, maybe during my time in the army, but I swear, I haven't drunk to that extent since then." She blows the steam away before taking a sip.

“Jill, I'm not going to fire you, but you are my head of security, and this puts me in a difficult position. I take a sip of tea and put my head down. I can't have my head of security drinking to the extent of passing out. I need my head of security to be sharp."

“Claire, please this job is all I have. I promise you'll never see this behavior in me again. I'll take a breathalyzer test every day if you want." She looks at me with the same puppy eyes as she did yesterday when she requested time off.

“Jill, I also found out that you lied about having a friend giving you an invitation to the party. The invitation slipped out of your pocketbook and there was another person's name on the card."

“Ok, you're right Claire. I found the invitation in the parking lot, and I didn't send it to the lost and found department." Jill places her tea on the coffee table, slides closer to me, and grabs my hand.

“Claire, I promise this is the only time I've done something like this. It's just that I've been working at Hilltop Manor for ten years and I haven't received a pay raise in over three years. Every day I go to work, and I can barely afford groceries," she says, as tears stream down her eyes.

“For once in my life, I wanted to know what it feels like to live the luxurious lifestyle of people to who I cater to every day. When I saw the invitation lying on the ground, I saw it as my opportunity to have that chance, for one night." Jill squeezes my hand tighter as tears continue to stream down her eyes.

I stare into my cup of tea feeling conflicted as to what to do now. I empathize with Jill. I know how hard it is to work and barely afford to pay my bills. I know what it feels like to be treated like a second-class citizen and cater to snobby guests. Yet, I can't jeopardize my job, and nor can I have someone managing the security team who may be addicted to alcohol.

“You need my eyes and ears Claire, and you know it." Jill looks in my eyes as if she's ready to burst open a floodgate of secrets about Hilltop Manor.

I let out a loud sigh. “You're right Jill, I do need your eyes and ears, but I need your sober eyes and ears."

“At your service," Jill replies, she lets go of my hands and proceeds to stand at attention in front of me as if she's standing before a drill sergeant in the army.

“I must go, Jill. I have a meeting with Mr. Dubois in one hour, but this isn't over. Meet me first thing tomorrow morning at my suite." As I proceed to stand up, Jill thrusts her arms around me and gives me a bear hug almost squeezing the life out of me.

“Thank you! Thank You! Thank You!" Jill replies, jumping up and down.

“Don't thank me yet," I reply, as I exit the door.

***

“Claire, this is our executive board. Everyone is excited to meet you." Mr. Dubois shakes my hand and introduces me to all the board members.

“Take us away, Claire. We can't wait to hear your ideas." Mr. Dubois sits at the end of the table and smiles at me.

I'm a bit nervous, but this is my chance to prove to Mr. Dubois and the executive board that I have what it takes to beat our competition, Bayside Beachfront, and win the “World Class Resort Experience" award. I take a deep breath and connect my laptop to the projector.

“We are in the business of catering to our guests and that means providing them with a world-class experience. My first idea is to restructure the suites on the 20th floor. Right now, every room looks the same. What if we gave our guests a tour of Europe without ever having to fly there?" The board members look at me puzzled.

“Let me explain. We decorate each room with a different theme from the most beautiful countries in Europe. I'm talking France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, Croatia, England, Greece, etc. Imagine walking into a suite and stepping into downtown Paris. The walls can be repainted with different pictures that represent some of the most beautiful cities in Europe." I show the executive board a sample of what I envision.

“We package each room as an option the guest can choose from when booking. They can choose to purchase the 'France Experience,' 'Italy Experience, or any selection they want. Each experience will be tailored to what they would experience if they were in Europe, even the food will be customized to each country."

“Well, what do you think?" I ask, rubbing my fingers in anticipation for someone to say something. The board is speechless for what feels like an eternity.

“Splendid," replies the marketing director. Mr. Dubois and the rest of the board members stand up and clap. I walk around the room and shake everyone's hand.

“She's a keeper," replies another board member looking at Mr. Dubois.

Mr. Dubois's assistant enters the room and lets me know I have a guest waiting for me. I shake everyone's hand one last time and take the elevator to the entrance of the resort.

I can't believe my eyes when I see Richard standing by the receptionist's desk. He's staring off into space as if he's wondering if he made the right decision coming here.

“What can we do for you, Richard?" I ask, trying not to daydream about his smooth-tatted chest prompting me to think things that I haven't thought since I was married.

“Oh, ugh, I found these pearl earrings and thought they were yours. I remember you wearing them last night and wanted to return them to you." He opens his hand and extends his arm to hand me the pears.

“Those aren't mine, maybe they belong to the brunette you were kissing," I reply, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, ugh, ok." Richard closes his hand and stares at me.

“Richard, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn't have to make up a story about me losing my pearls. I would've been more than –“

“Have dinner with me?" He asks, interrupting my sentence. He gazes deep into my eyes. I can feel the heat being released from both of us. I bite my bottom lip trying not to give in to his request, but his glistening green eyes are holding me captive.

“Where?" I reply, folding my arms across my chest as if I'm uninterested.

“Meet tomorrow night at Berkley's Bayou Restaurant at 8:00 pm. Would you like me to pick you up?"

“No, I'm sure I can manage to get there on my own." I would like for him to pick me up, but I'm not ready to let my guard down yet.

“See you tomorrow night then." Richard turns around and walks away as if seconds ago we weren't lost in trance lusting over one another.

I haven't forgotten about my manifesto of “Operation How to Take Down a Billionaire." Rule number one. “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."