by Lacuna Reid
“Hi, it’s Mira.” I try to keep my voice steady.
“Mira?”
Of course, he doesn’t remember me. I’m just some girl he met in a bar and offered a job to. He probably does that all the time. He’s probably found a better sous chef by now.
“Mira who hates martinis.” He chuckles. His voice is warm.
“That’s the one.” I can’t help but smile.
“How can I help you?” Gino asks.
“You gave me your card… you said to contact you… about a cheffing job?”
“I did, that’s right. Are you interested?”
“I… well. You didn’t really give me much to go on, but I… kind of need a job” Does that sound too desperate? I look around my tiny messy apartment… “and a change of scene.”
“Great!”
He sounds too enthusiastic and I wonder what the hell I’m getting myself into.
“Uhh, so what is this job, anyway? Can you send me more information?”
“Absolutely,” Gino replies. “Look, give me your email and I’ll send you something in the next couple of hours. You’re going to love it, Mira. Honestly. It’s the best.”
“Uhh, okay, thanks.”
I give him my email and that’s the end of the call. I still know nothing.
What am I getting myself into?
The man wears expensive suits and lives somewhere mysterious in the Mediterranean and goes around, offering cheffing jobs to women in bars. For all I know, he’s part of the mob, or full of shit, or actually into human trafficking…
I haven’t agreed to anything yet. It’s not too late to pull out.
By the time I’ve finished the margarita mix, I’ve decided to try on outfits to practice for my new Mediterranean life. I take a bunch of selfies and send them to Lana. Then, exhaustion hits me, and I lie back in bed, still wearing my tangerine bikini under a gold wrap dress, and immediately fall asleep.
* * *
I’m returning to the temple with water from the sacred spring, clutching it in a ceramic urn close to my chest, humming to myself. The water is used for ritual purification and I’m feeling so happy to be here, to be part of the temple, part of temple life, I’m practically buzzing with contentment and joy, feeling so welcomed here, so connected with the other priests and priestesses, as if we are a family who’ve known each-other all our lives. I love it here… I love the pace and flow of daily life, the chanting, the ceremonies, and helping in the garden and kitchen.
I’m lost in my happy thoughts when a voice cuts through, surprising me.
“You’re new here.” The man’s voice rings across the courtyard and I almost drop the urn.
I glance over at him, expecting to see one of the priests. Instead I’m met with blue eyes, and paler skin. This man isn’t wearing the priest robes. He’s in a simpler toga which drapes casually around his elegant frame.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.”
I nod, drinking him in. There is something deftly beautiful about him, as if he should be posing for a master sculptor right now instead of here, in the courtyard garden, staring into me with those ocean eyes.
I clear my throat, trying not to stare, “I’m Mya,” I say.
“Alfio,” he says, extending a hand, “I’m the temple scribe, and you must be a new priestess.”
I nod.
“Excuse me for the interruption,” he bows, “I watched you from the kitchen gardens and…” he blushes, “well… you were captivating. I had to meet you.”
A thrill runs through me at the thought that this gorgeous man was captivated by me. I brush my golden-brown curls over my shoulder, hoping to captivate him further still.
“What’s that in your hand?” I ask him.
“Rosemary,” he lifts it towards my face. I close my eyes and inhale the strong aromatic scent.
“It’s divine,” I say.
Alfio sighs. I look up at him to find him staring back at me intently.
“What is it?” I ask. “What are you thinking?”
“There’s something about you I find deeply compelling, Mya.”
I almost melt into the courtyard tiles at his words. I clutch the water jug, hoping I don’t drop it in my excessive swooning. I’ve only just met this man, but there is something gentle and wise about him, I can tell he’s trustworthy and kind and also mysterious and slightly mischievous based on the smile he is giving me now. The tension between us is palpable. I can see the desire in his eyes. I want him to step closer. I want to feel his hands wrap around my waist. I want his lips against mine, his body…
Really, Mya, this is the third man you’ve instantly fallen for in the past few days!
I don’t care that I seem to be falling in love at every second opportunity. It feels fated, as if the goddess has aligned our meetings, as if… perhaps… they are all meant to be mine.
Chapter Five
Mira
I open my eyes, a groggy mess. As soon as I move, the pounding headache kicks in. Why do I do this to myself?
It’s not until I’m in the shower that all the reasons leading up to yesterday’s solo margarita extravaganza come back to me. I groan into the stream of water, my thoughts circling around: walking out of my job, my debts, being evicted, and now… apparently, my only option is moving to the Mediterranean into a situation I have no idea about – which is somehow even more terrifying than all my other problems combined!
Of course, I don’t have to go, but it might be my only real option at the moment, and I don’t even know how legitimate it is. I lean into the hot stream of water, wishing it could wash all my troubles away, imagining my nice little fantasy cottage, by the sea with a pet goat.
“Eugh!” The water suddenly changes to freezing and I scramble to get out. They must have finally cut my hot water off.
I sigh and wrap the towel around me for warmth. Just another thing on top of everything else.
I take a couple of ibuprofen then collapse on my bed, still wrapped in the towel. The light is blinking on my phone, showing me I’ve got unread messages, so after a few minutes of feeling sorry for myself, curiosity gets the better of me and I reach over to check.
There’s an email from Gino, with a blurb that looks like it’s just copied and pasted from a website.
El Cielo is an exclusive retreat and home to a community of designers, artists and creators. It was started by the architect Theo Brodeur and a handful of close friends on a site that was once an abandoned futurist factory. Brodeur discovered the site during his architecture training and instantly fell in love with the curves of the buildings and high ceilings. He and his friends have transformed it into a masterpiece of design, inspired by nature.
I scroll down further to see the pictures and gasp.
It’s beautiful. The blurb wasn’t exaggerating by calling it a masterpiece. What were originally old cement silos have been re-shaped into apartments, with classical curved windows. I love the tall ceilings and how vines grow over the outside – like nature has been encouraged to merge into the architecture – and the way all the spaces feel open, yet private.
I scroll through the images, falling progressively more in love with the place. In one there’s an enormous wall, inlaid with bookshelves and with cozy emerald green velvet sofas in front of them. In another, a huge long table is set, looking out through large bell-shaped windows over lush green forest. I bet their kitchen is amazing.
Everything about the pictures makes my heart scream “yes!” even though my head is still assessing the risks. What if this is just a trick, and Gino has nothing to do with this place?
I google El Cielo and find a lot of the same images on different design sites. Okay, good, so it’s an actual place, showcased on a bunch of reputable sites. Next, I add Gino’s name to the search. An official looking website comes up elcielo.com. I click through to see the “Who we are” page. The first picture is apparently Theo Brodeur. He’s a bit older than Gino, maybe in his 40s, with streaks of silver
at his temples; devastatingly handsome but from that expression I bet he’s an arrogant bastard.
I scroll past a series of other handsome men – all men, I notice, before I get to Gino.
Who are you, Mr Mysterious?
My eyes stop to admire his stunning bone structure, his olive skin, his green eyes… I feel a shiver cascading down my spine as I look at him. Then I focus on the text.
Gino Santoro is best known for his pioneering the ethical tech start-up, Mercury Inc, specializing in communications software. He is a founding member of El Cielo.
It’s not much to go on, but at least he’s legit.
I sink back against my pillow. My head is spinning, both with the hangover and with the possibility that this too-good-to-be-true offer is for real.
My mind drifts back over the dream I had last night: the garden, the sage, the temple. As I think of it, I doze off again.
I’m running through the forest in my temple robes, laughing. I look back behind me to see Alfio, except it’s not Alfio, it’s Gino…
I turn around and reach for him.
My hands brush against his face, his chest… his hands tangle gently in my hair. His breath whispers against my neck. “Welcome home.” I look up into his eyes…
The sound of an old telephone ringing drags me out of my doze and back to the much less pleasant reality of my life. Why did I have to set such an abrasive ringtone? I can see that the caller is Lana.
“Hello?”
“Mira. Hey, how are you?”
“I’ve been better,” I lie back again, wishing I could amputate the part of my head causing the throbbing pain.
“You didn’t try to drown your sorrows?”
“No. Yes, I mean…”
Lana starts up with her self-help guru spiel again. I’m not in the mood, so I just say something to shut her up.
“I’m moving to El Cielo.”
“What? Is that some kind of boarding house?”
“No, it’s that place I told you about. It’s in the Mediterranean.”
“What?!”
I haven’t actually made up my mind yet, but at least the line is silent for a moment. It’s not often I make Lana speechless.
“Google it. I’ll talk later. Gotta go,” I tell her, and hang up.
It takes me a while to notice that I’m still naked after my shower, and I haven’t eaten anything resembling actual food in over a day. I know I should at least email Gino back, even though his sexy smile keeps popping into my head. I really need to work out whether this is actually a real possibility or just another pipe dream… I bite my lip. Despite what I told Lana, I’m not sure about any of this. I just want to escape the mess that I’m in… and I want Lana to stop having an excuse to be so damn patronizing.
I throw on my gold wrap dress because it’s the first item of clothing I find on the floor that’s clean. Then I go to the kitchen. I find a box of crackers and a tin of tuna in the woefully depleted pantry. I put the two things together and force myself to eat something before writing the email.
I tell Gino that I’m interested, and that I will require those relocation costs that he mentioned. It’s not exactly true, but I need the money so badly that I barely think twice about the lie. After I press send, I feel anxious. I’ll probably never hear anything back from the guy. I figure he’s bound to have moved on to another woman in a bar by now.
I go out to grab a coffee, hoping my credit card doesn’t decline, and by the time I’m back, there’s a message in my inbox. The short email from Gino reads: “Any chance you can start next week?”
I can hardly breathe as I read through the attached contract. I literally have to pinch myself. It’s for a permanent role, with a salary that’s double my most recent one, and all with full accommodation provided.
I practically gag at the $5000 relocation costs included. I feel guilty, since I don’t really own any furniture. Everything I have that’s worth taking with me would fit into a medium sized suitcase.
I consider emailing back to say the extra money isn’t necessary, and that it’s a misunderstanding, but then I think about how good it would be for my debt situation and decide I can figure out an excuse later. I fill out the digital contract and email it back with a brief message, accepting the job.
I’m really doing this.
I check my phone and notice there are ten unread text messages from Lana. They’re all shocked and excited and concerned and amazed reactions to her googling the place. El Cielo… I smile, feeling good about my life for the first time in a long time.
I always run from things… sure. But maybe this time I’m running toward something, and that’s the scary thing. That’s what’s holding me back. I glance up at the pile of bills that are now stacked on the kitchen counter, realizing that the case for running away is getting much bigger than the case for staying put.
Chapter Six
Mira
There’s a knock at the door, and I’m expecting Lana to be here with Chinese takeaways like she promised me earlier. Instead there’s a courier, holding a package on my doorstep. “Special delivery.”
I sign for it and thank the courier. Inside, I find tickets leaving for Barcelona in three days. There’s also a pamphlet about El Cielo with a lot of the same information from the website, and a hand-written note
Dear Mira,
Thank you for accepting my invitation in such unusual circumstances. I hope you don’t mind me taking the liberty to book your flights. If these times don’t work just notify the airline and have them changed at no additional cost. We look forward to working with you and hope you enjoy El Cielo.
My regards,
Gino.
He must still be in town after all. Why didn’t he deliver this himself?
It wasn’t that I wanted him to turn up and see my run down and messy apartment, but I didn’t understand why he’d go to the trouble to write me a note but not, say, meet me for coffee to discuss all this and give me the tickets in person. I’m still feeling uncomfortable about all of this when Lana arrives.
“I know you won’t want to hear this,” she says, dumping cartons of Chinese food out on my counter. “But you should really think carefully about this job.”
“You know,” I reply. “I think you’re right.”
“What?” Lana says, in mock surprise. “In the history of human existence, nothing as rare as Mira conceding that I’m right has ever happened before.”
“Lana!” I smack her in the arm. “Seriously. I just realized I never even gave this guy a resume and I’ve barely even had a conversation with him. Yet, he’s given me plane tickets to Barcelona, and is paying me $5000 dollars for relocation costs.”
“Get out!” Lana says. “Really?”
I hand her the envelope.
“Shit...” Lana says, flipping through the documents. “Maybe I’m wrong.”
“I feel like I’ve just signed my life away,” I tell her, checking my banking app. “Look, the money’s already in my account. Well, at least that takes care of my most immediate debts… but now it’s like I owe him. I mean… this guy hasn’t so much as seen my resume and he’s signed me up to a permanent role and bought me a ticket to the other side of the world. What if this is all a huge mistake?”
“Honey, calm down,” Lana says. “Permanent doesn’t mean you can’t leave. It just means it’s not a fixed term. You can still quit. Look, it says here your notice period is two weeks. Just don’t surrender your passport to your employers or anything. This actually looks pretty good. Do you think they’d have jobs for me and Dave?” Lana giggles.
“This isn’t funny,” I shove her. “And no, I don’t think they’re in need of any speech therapists or accountants.”
“I’m serious. It looks like the best thing that’s ever happened to you since you left that asshole Cliff.”
“I’m scared.”
“Exactly, honey,” Lana says, through a mouthful of chow mein. She reaches over and hugs me. “You’r
e always running away every time you’re scared. Maybe this time, you need to do something different. You know…” she says, pulling back and shoveling more noodles into her mouth. “If you always do what you’ve always done…”
“You always get what you’ve always got… I know,” I say, picking up a fork and the nearest box of food. The meat and vegetables in spicy black bean sauce are the first proper food I’ve eaten for days and they’re like medicine at this point. “I’m so confused and terrified. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Just tell me,” Lana says. “Is this guy some kind of creep, or do you get a good feeling about him?”
“Gino?” I say, blushing.
“Oh,” Lana laughs. “It’s like that, is it?”
“He’s… well… he’s gorgeous… and not creepy and I do get a good feeling about him. He’s kind of… familiar or something… like there’s some kind of connection there. I even… I think I dreamed about him, like he’s part of the ancient Greek dreams or something.”
“Okay, wow, you’re giving me shivers,” Lana says. “Maybe this guy is like your soul mate… maybe that’s why he found you in that bar and gave you a job…”
I grin. “There was more than one special guy in those dreams.”
“Stop being greedy,” Lana says, slapping me with her napkin. “It’s not fair for those of us who only have one average looking soulmate, and you know Dave is totally my type, so don’t tell him I said that… but still, it’s not fair if you have more than one. I looked at all those guys at Chello.”
“El Cielo?”
“Exactly, and they’re all smokin’ hot, so don’t get too greedy, lady. It’s just like when we were little. I was so jealous that you had that guardian angel.”
“You mean Micah?” I ask. I recall the glimpse of him that I saw last night. I don’t tell Lana this because that will only encourage her. “He was my imaginary friend, just my brain’s way of looking out for me when I had a hard childhood. You know I don’t believe in karma or soulmates or angels or any of that stuff.”
