Chapter Eight
Connor had outdone himself this time. The event was beyond anything that Cara had ever seen before, even in a movie. He had planned the gala for months and the dome shaped ballroom was alive with creatures from all walks of life. There were Cheshire cats and phantoms, bears and fairies all donned in extravagant gowns and expensive tuxedoes to match their masks and commemorate Lamoreaux’s birthday. This party was every bit as extravagant as the charity ball had been with the champagne fountain and sixteen-piece band. Four ice sculptures were set up in various locations in the ballroom and tables were overflowing with an eclectic buffet display of sea food including lobster, crab and shrimp, a carving station with roast beef, chicken and lamb, a crepe chef and a pasta station featuring every type of homemade Italian noodle anyone could dream of ordering. Cara counted twelve types of dessert before she lost interest and turned her focus back onto the crowd. There were three bars set up this night, two outside under the stars in the English maze and one inside next to the makeshift stage where the band played upbeat but pleasant music without flaw. There were so many heating lamps in the garden, no one would know it was the dead of winter but for the snow-capped hedges. The cobblestone had been salted and swept and there was not even a hint of a chill in the air. The place had been turned into some kind of tropical winter wonderland and it defied reality.
“What do you think?” Connor whispered in her ear suddenly, handing her another glass of white wine. His breath on her neck naked neck sent shivers down her spine. She turned to face him, his high cheekbones covered by his penguin mask. He looked exceedingly handsome dressed as a dapper Arctic bird and she could tell that he felt the same about her by the look in his magnetic eyes. Her blood red gown fell to her ankles in a glittering display of sequins. She wore a red devil’s mask and the colors brought out her loose raven black waves and big, beautiful eyes ethereally in the shadowy lights.
“It’s spectacular,” Cara breathed truthfully. The display was truly amazing.
“And happy birthday, Mr. Lamoreaux,” she smiled.
“You are spectacular.” Without warning, Connor leaned in and planted a hot kiss on her neck, the tip of his tongue teasing her soft flesh. A small explosion erupted from within her and she looked shocked at him. It was uncharacteristic of him to show affection outside of the bedroom. It was unheard of for him to do it in front of people.
“You belong to me,” he whispered hotly into her ear. Cara felt the familiar sense of helplessness wash over her as she nodded. She knew he was right. She lifted her emerald eyes and noticed that the kiss had been witnessed by several people. Some looked on appreciatively while others had pursed lips and gossiped angrily among themselves. Can you blame them? Cara asked herself as she tried to read their rapidly flapping tongues. You’re a maid who snatched up the most eligible bachelor on the east coast. And suddenly, that feeling of self-assuredness overcame her once more as she realized she did not care what anyone thought. She only cared that Connor Lamoreaux wanted her and that she was meant to be with him, mind, body and soul. She had never been more certain of anything in her life.
Just as quickly as he had appeared at her side, Connor was up on stage, interrupting the final notes of the band’s ballad and grabbing the microphone in his usual “play for the crowd” fashion. The horde hushed in expectation and leaned in expectantly to hear his words.
“Thank you all for coming to my roast!” he declared. His announcement was met with chuckles and raised glasses.
“As you know, I am now twenty-one years old – “more laughter followed and Connor winked before continuing.
“I have been very fortunate in my life. I have an amazing family – my parents couldn’t be here tonight. Apparently there is a very intense bridge tournament at the home that they couldn’t miss.” The crowd roared. “But my brothers Aiden and Ryland, their lovely wives, Anette and Jessica and my four nephews made the trip from various parts of God forsaken America to revel in my aging process. So cheers to you and thank you for coming!” He raised a glass in the direction of his siblings and their respective families. A pantomime and a jester returned his gesture, smiling. Cara felt a smidgen of sadness. She knew that Connor had desperately wanted his father and mother present but his father was suffering from dementia and his mother was reluctant to leave him while he was not lucid.
“She never really got used to strangers taking care of her family,” Connor had explained to Cara. “I think she has a lot of residual issues because of what happened to me when I was out of her sight.”
“I really do appreciate all of you coming tonight and I confess, this gala has an ulterior motive.” The people looked on, puzzled.
“I want presents, of course.” There were more appreciative laughs and clapping.
“I got you something, Connor!” a gorgeous blonde in a tight, black dress yelled from the back of the ballroom. He raised an eye expectantly.
“Did you now, Amanda?”
The woman smiled suggestively and slunk forward, her dress almost painted on and making her gait incredibly sensual, accenting a flat stomach and huge, manmade breasts. She stopped in front of the stage and smiled, her bleached teeth an almost offensive contrast to her scarlet lipstick.
“Yes,” she purred. With that, she reached behind her pinned up hair, releasing the strap tied around her neck and let her ample bosom fall from her dress. The crowd whooped and cheered and Cara felt her cheeks grow hot with anger and humiliation. Connor’s pupils grew small and his full mouth pursed into an angry line.
“Put those away, Amanda. That’s nothing that everyone in this room hasn’t seen before on pay per view. If you can’t contain yourself, my staff can help you find any number of exits off the property,” he snarled coldly. The guest guffawed and booed at Connor as she pouted and stuffed herself back into the garment. Then she turned and smirked at Cara purposefully. That little tramp did that for my benefit! Cara realized, dumbfounded at the childishness of the act. Cara refused to acknowledge the gesture and instead focused on Connor, forcing the sick feeling of jealousy from her stomach.
“Actually, I’m glad Amanda had the indecency to do that. I was just about to introduce you to the most decent, modest woman I have ever had the honor of meeting. This woman has turned my world upside down in a very short period of time,” Lamoreaux continued, unfazed by the busty blonde’s antics. “Ladies and gentlemen, meet my partner in crime, Cara Castillo.”
There was a brief silence as all eyes turned to Cara. She slowly made her way up to the podium and allowed Connor to help her on stage. A sprinkling of applause broke out, but Cara could not help but notice that people were all talking amongst themselves, some of them attempting to take covert pictures while others brashly whipped out their cellphones and shamelessly shot, their flashes almost blinding her and Connor alike. She had not been expecting an introduction and she wondered if he had intended to do that before Amanda’s little show or if he was doing it simply to appease her because he thought her feelings were hurt. It didn’t matter. Now the world knew that she was with Connor Lamoreaux and the peace and quiet she had taken sanctuary within was going to become an obscure idea. She sighed inwardly, wishing he had not put her on display without warning. But Connor was not finished yet.
“Cara is the most compassionate, righteous person any of you can hope to know and it’s for this reason that I am introducing Cara to you. As of tomorrow morning, Cara is officially the chairman of the Sunstain Foundation.” Cara blinked, completely taken aback by the announcement. There was a collective gasp in the crowd. The statement was not one that anyone could dismiss lightly. People who claimed to know Lamoreaux also knew that Sunstain was his pride and joy. His own business wasn’t as important to him as the charity. In fact, it would have made more sense for him to bequeath Lamoreaux International to her than the Sunstain Foundation. Before Cara could say a word, an angry voice floated forth
“Connor, you can’t be serious!” someone yelled sud
denly over the din which had erupted. The couple looked up at the angry voice and recognized Eli Sucar irately fighting his way to the front. Connor’s accountant was furious.
“Is there a problem, Eli?” Connor’s charismatic smile had faded into a look of cracked concrete as he narrowed his eyes.
“You know how much work Genevieve has put into the foundation over the years and you go and hand off years of hard work to, what? Your midlife crisis?”
Cara’s sense of security seemed to evaporate with the man’s possibly accurate question.
“Your wife has done a lot of work for the foundation, Eli, that is true,” Connor conceded but Cara knew that he was about to put his long-time acquaintance in a very uncomfortable place.
“She has been the best secretary the foundation has ever had!” Connor continued. Eli’s tan face went explosively red.
“Secretary?” he almost screamed. “She has been your right hand since day one of the foundation!”
“Eli, this may be hard to hear but I’m going to say this; Genevieve is a lovely woman. She makes excellent coffee and she can read a cold call script like no one I know but honestly, I never needed a right hand. Mine works fairly damn well…if I do say so myself.” The crowd tittered nervously but Connor was not finished.
“Gen likes to think that she is qualified to handle millions of dollars but sincerely, and I mean this with the utmost affection, she can’t even balance a check book. I know this because she invariably spent all the money in your accounts and then ‘borrowed’ money from my foundation so you wouldn’t find out. This has been going on for five years or so. She didn’t think that I would find out what she was doing, you know, being my right hand and all but somehow I managed to figure it out.” There was a shocked, dead silence in the ballroom. Eli’s mouth dropped open and he turned to stare at his bleach blonde wife. She had paled to the color of printer paper and began shaking her head.
“No hard feelings, Gen. I’ve been keeping this under my hat out of respect for your husband but since he can’t seem to respect my choice in partner in my own house, Eli, please take your thieving Stepford Wife and get the fuck out. I’d rather have two left hands, honestly.”
After that spectacle, Cara could not get off the stage fast enough. The animosity in the room seemed to be consuming her and she was met with sly and dirty looks everywhere she looked. She could not fathom why Connor would have ever thought it was a good idea to make such a shattering declaration. Although she would never have admitted it to anyone, she was beyond flattered by the chance to be a part of the charity. She knew how important the foundation was to Connor and she silently vowed that she would find ways to improve it every day. I can start by getting back the money that Genevieve Sucar stole, Cara thought, grimly. The fact that anyone could skim money from starving children was sickening. The fact that the person was doing it to hide their own Gucci and Prada addiction was an absolute atrocity. She wondered how much money the woman had pilfered in total from the foundation. As the music picked back up, filling the somewhat uncomfortable din in the ballroom, Cara looked around for Connor but he had disappeared, leaving her to fend for herself against the wagging tongues and strange, sidelong glances.
“Come in here,” a voice in her ear growled gruffly, grabbing her by the arm. Maurice was at her side, herding her into the kitchen out of the prying eyes of the guests. Cara welcomed the diversion and allowed him to steer her into the hustle of the bright room. As usual, the kitchen seemed to have a calming effect on her. At least until Maurice spoke again.
“Are you regretting banging the boss now?” he asked, smirking as the swinging door closed behind them. The momentary sense of relief she had felt faded and she tensed up at his words.
“Did you call me back here to rub in my discomfort, Maurice?” she answered, tiredly. She didn’t have the defenses to combat his crass abuse that night. Maurice shrugged indifferently and turned back to watch the staff before speaking.
“The day you came to the house, there was a change,” he said so quietly that Cara had to strain to hear him.
“I don’t know if you have noticed, but Mr. Lam’s place isn’t exactly warm and cozy. There has always been some strange undercurrent, something I could never figure out. I’ve been here for ten years and I never felt comfortable here.”
Cara didn’t know how to answer him, knowing exactly what he was speaking of but not sure where he was going with his speech.
“Everyone could feel it, sense something amiss but no one ever really mentioned it or dug into its origins. I always suspected that Tabitha knows what is happening but her and I aren’t exactly best buds.
Over the years, staff members have come and gone mysteriously, faring well in their work and then abruptly disappearing. It became obvious that asking questions was the fastest way to get canned. Kippy, your predecessor was an example of that. She had many wild theories about our boss; he was a vampire, a werewolf or some other bullshit. She read too many Ann Rice books or something. Needless to say, despite warnings to shut her giant trap, she got her ass fired. I think Tabitha kept the opening unfilled for so long because she was getting tired of all the assholes we kept getting stuck with. Anyway, most of us learned to shut up and simply go about our jobs without questioning. It’s really not that hard if you don’t have the mind of a twelve-year-old, really.”
Maurice turned to look at Cara and for the first time, she saw some warmth in his dark eyes.
“When you came to the house, that dark cloud seemed to lift a bit. No one felt like shadows were chasing them. The little, odd, indescribable sensations which would plague us suddenly disappeared as if we had dreamed them. The house actually seemed sunnier somehow. I didn’t clue into the timing until after you started doing Mr. Lam.”
“Maurice, can you please stop saying it like that!” Cara pleaded. The chef sneered at her.
“I’m sorry…I didn’t clue into the timing until after you started ‘making love’ to Mr. Lamoreaux. Is that better?” Cara sighed and allowed him to continue.
“Anyway, now that you’re with Mr. Lam, the house is a lot lighter. Maybe Mr. Lam just needed someone to love…or bang. I don’t know.” Cara couldn’t contain herself anymore.
“Why are you telling me this?” she blurted out.
Maurice glared at her, annoyed by her question.
Romance: Pummel Me: A Boxing Romance Page 54
