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After working her tail off that day and then eating out with friends that night, Elaine found herself exhausted by ten and ready for bed. Settling into the kind of sleep bordering on what most people might consider comatose, it took awhile to arouse her when Tasia’s beeper went off the next morning just before sunrise.
Elaine rolled over and managed to open one eye to check the clock: it was four-fifteen. The beeper was a sound she was beginning to despise because Carl frequently used it to call Tasia into his lair in the middle of the night. Turning on the light and then squinting to lessen the effect, she looked over at Chloe’s bed and found it empty. She most likely had gone home with Derek. Heather had left for her mother’s house yesterday afternoon, as she did every Friday. The only one left besides Elaine was Betty Rhoades, and it was obvious that Betty wasn’t budging.
Getting up slowly, Elaine looked at the message displayed on the pager, which was on a nightstand beside Tasia’s bed. It was short and to the point; COME was the only word illuminated. Betty was beginning to stir, so Elaine waited, hoping she would tell her what to do next.
“Where the hell is Tasia?” Betty asked, understandably upset. After all, on the weekends was the only time she was allowed to sleep in.
“I think she went home with Zach,” Elaine explained. “She won’t be back for hours.”
“Well, go and see what Mr. Kastenmeier wants,” she said, punching her pillow before settling down again. “And turn off the damn light!”
Slipping on a robe, Elaine doused the light. As she trotted down the stairs and through the kitchen and dining room, she knew how imperative it was for her to get to Carl’s office as fast as she could. After rushing through the reception area, she knocked on his door.
“Come in,” he said, and so she did. It was a hair-raising ordeal waiting to see what lay ahead for her on the other side of the door.
Coming in but leaving the door open behind her, she waited for him to tell her what he wanted. Carl was behind the bar and had just finished mixing a couple of drinks. Sangría was Tasia’s drink of choice, and the blood-red glasses said all there needed to be said about whom he’d expected to see coming through the door.
When he saw Elaine standing there instead of Tasia, his smile collapsed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Tasia couldn’t come, sir.”
“Why not? Is she ill?”
“No.”
He waited to hear more but when Elaine didn’t volunteer anything, he grew angry. “Well, why isn’t she able to come here herself?”
“She’s not here, sir.”
“Where is she?” he asked, stepping out from behind the bar and coming closer. It was spooky to see someone who always appeared to be so in control being intoxicated to the point of needing help walking straight. His hair was mussed and his suit jacket was open. He’d celebrated the end of another workday by taking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Looking burnt out and feverish, he was a man who’d spent twenty hours working and was now ready to play. The problem was, his favorite toy wasn’t available. “I asked you where she is!”
“I don’t know where she is, sir.”
“You all went out together,” he said, and it surprised Elaine that he knew that much. Having someone like him spying on them felt creepy. “Where were you in such a hurry to run off to?”
“A cafe, sir.”
Carl nodded. “Get out,” he said and Elaine left, closing the door behind her.
Elaine walked to her quarters and got back into bed. She was tired, but she was too worked up to sleep.
Elaine catnapped until she heard the bedroom door open at seven-ten that morning. When Tasia came into the room, Elaine abandoned the notion of pretending to sleep and sat up in bed, putting her legs over the edge.
“Hey,” Tasia said, stopping to give her a good look. “What’s got you looking so tense?”
“Mr. Kastenmeier called for you at four o’clock. I answered the call, and….”
“You answered his call? You go, girl!”
“Come on, Tasia. This is serious. He was really upset when he found out you weren’t here.”
“My heart bleeds,” she said, taking off the clothes she’d worn the night before and tossing them into a hamper. Heading for the shower wearing a beige brassiere and short slip, she didn’t seem at all daunted by the predicament she was in.
When she came out of the bathroom, she got into a work uniform and then combed her wet hair. Then she went into the kitchen and started preparing breakfast. Elaine followed her to chat while she worked. They both saw Carl sitting alone at the family table as they came down the stairs, but no greetings were exchanged. He did, however, look up from his newspaper to stare at Tasia until she was out of sight.
By eight thirty, Tasia had finished making breakfast, and Elaine helped her carry the trays over to the serving table on the family’s side of the kitchen. They found Carl still sitting at the table but with a different newspaper in his hands. This time he had a copy of The New York Times. The ornate, solid brass gasolier above his head dimmed what darkness was left in his hair, making it appear as if he were wearing a halo. A trick of the light, no doubt.
Beyond the kitchen, a sliding glass door led to a deck outside, which overlooked the vegetable garden. Old-fashioned, iron garden furniture accentuated the country setting, with a cast-iron table painted white and grouped with four matching chairs. Lois and Silas were sitting out there, as if Carl had told them to leave the kitchen. Silas kept looking in, but he couldn’t hear what was being said. Sitting with a magazine on interior design, which was almost pressed against her nose, Lois seemed fascinated by the article she was reading. She blended in well with the potted plants on the deck and the ivy growing against the house and along a privacy wall. Little more than an ornament, she was like every other inanimate object in the house. Thank God Silas existed, or there wouldn’t be any life in the house at all.
The minute Carl saw Tasia again, he looked up and put the newspaper down. Setting his reading glasses aside, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. As she loaded the warmers with food, she never looked at him. It was obvious that she was playing a cat and mouse game with a tiger, and she’d soon find out that the odds of winning weren’t in her favor.
“Good morning, Tasia,” he said, staring at her and waiting for a response.
“Good morning, sir,” she said, glancing at him from over her shoulder.
“You’re a hard woman to find these days.”
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Where were you last night? I buzzed but you weren’t here.”
“I went out.”
“Where did you go?”
“I had dinner with friends,” she said, sounding impatient over having to explain herself.
“What friends?”
“Does it matter?”
“You came back in Zachary Cutteridge’s Corvette,” he observed. “It’s black and yellow like a bumblebee. Careful, my dear, or you might get stung.”
“Thanks for the warning, but I think I’ll take my chances.”
“Were you with him last night?”
“No, I went to my place to catch up on some things. I just borrowed his car.” She looked up from what she was doing with a smile. Elaine stood back, a little afraid of both of them; someone was bound to go for the jugular any minute now.
Carl got up from the table and stood behind Tasia, his right hand braced against one in a long line of Honduran mahogany and mahogany-toned redwood cabinets. Stopping what she was doing as he came near, she turned and faced him. He tried to be intimidating by standing so close, but she didn’t seem bothered by his transparent tactics. “You know,” he began, realizing her stiff upper lip, “I was thinking about getting myself a new groundskeeper. What do you think?”
“Oh, really?” she said, knowing full well that keeping the grounds in order was Zach’s job. “Now why should you want to get someone else?
”
“Zach does shoddy work.”
“I don’t think so. I think he’s very good at what he does.” Her voice grew lower as she neared the end of that sentence, and she was glaring at him as if she really meant to stress the point. Elaine wondered if she were referring to the landscaping, or to their very intimate date last night.
“You think he’s good at it, do you?”
Stepping even closer, the position she was taking was most unwavering. “I sure do,” she said, examining what little pain she was able to see on his face. Some was there to be sure, and his demeanor seemed to concede to her upper hand.
He backed off a bit; it was obvious that he didn’t like threatening her with ultimatums about the other men in her life. “You’re entitled to your opinion, but I’m the one who signs his paychecks, after all.”
“I don’t want Zach to lose his job.”
“Sleeping with you isn’t part of his job description. Does he really think I’d share you with anyone else?”
“Going out together was my idea. Zach had nothing to do with it.”
Carl gave her an obnoxious, little smirk. “Darling, you could never do anything wrong. It has to be his fault.”
“Why can’t our arguments be between us? Why must we drag everyone else into them?”
“You’ve never minded before.”
“Well, I do now. Please, Carl.”
“Don’t grovel. It’s most unbecoming. Groveling is your father’s job, isn’t it?”
“Leave my father out of this!”
“All right. Let’s talk about your new trifle, then.”
“Don’t bother Zach. I promise….”
“You promise?”
She didn’t answer; she just bowed her head.
“You slept with Zach. You brought him into this, but I’ll see to it that he gets the hell out of it. Mr. Cutteridge steps over the line all the time. My line, and I don’t like it.”
“Well, he didn’t step alone,” Tasia said, being defiant despite losing the battle. She gathered the courage to look at him again. “I suppose if you get yourself a new groundskeeper, then you should get yourself a new chef as well.”
Carl looked as if he weren’t used to having anyone speak to him that way, but he managed to keep his temper in check. Tasia must’ve been better at keeping him happy than Elaine had realized. “No need for that,” he said, looking down at one of the warmers and lifting the lid. He examined the food carefully, even picking up a fork and rolling the meat around to look at all the sides. “Your father’s condition is very weak.”
“I told you to leave him out of this!” she snapped back.
“Accident prone is what I’d call him.”
Taking another step forward, her voice rose as high as her growing animosity. “Don’t threaten my family,” she said.
He dropped the fork and gave her his undivided attention. “Now why would I want to do that? That would be like shooting myself in the foot, wouldn’t it?”
“If you touch my father, I’ll kill you! I swear it!”
“No you won’t,” he said with more confidence than he should’ve had. “You wouldn’t have the guts to do something like that.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“No, you wouldn’t. I know you better than you know yourself. You’re predictable as hell, just like your worthless daddy.”
“He was important enough to help you build your company. You couldn’t have done it without him, and you know it.” After a pause, she added, “You’re not smart enough to do anything important, Carl.”
“Considering some legal wrangling? Well before you start, consider this: your father was working for me at the time, in my laboratory. Therefore I own everything he ever produced in that lab.” He stuck out his chest, looking more sanctimonious than ever. “I owned him, and now I own his daughter. That’s the natural order of things.” It was his turn to pause. “You’re both so easy to use.” Tasia’s lip quivered.
Carl looked at the food in the warmer again. “Uh-oh,” he said, “look at this. This sausage is much too crispy.” Smiling a toothy, in-your-face kind of a smile, his pompous attitude was sickening. “We mustn’t have you overcooking the food.” Pulling a spool of red thread out of his pocket, he snapped off a piece about six inches long. He dangled it in front of her as if making reference to the night before and the good time that didn’t happen between them.
Taking her by the hand, he tied the thread around her left middle finger. “Remember this?” he said. “Now I’ll take that off tonight. But if I have to go looking for you, it’ll stay on until hell freezes over!”
Tasia winced when he yelled at her, but she didn’t fight with him anymore. She seemed too tired to fight. “Yes, sir,” she said, turning and walking away.
Elaine stared at Carl without realizing it until he looked at her. When she drew his attention, she lowered her eyes and couldn’t leave the room fast enough.
As Elaine passed all the fine porcelains on display in glass cabinets, she found Tasia leaning over a sink and weeping in the butler’s pantry. Elaine went inside and put an arm around her. “Don’t cry, Tasia,” she whispered.
Tasia turned to her with a sigh. Brushing the tears away, she said, “You’re right. No need for that.” She looked down at the thread on her finger. “No need for this, either,” she said, pulling it off.
“Don’t do that! Think about what you’re doing.”
“I am. He knows I’ll be here when he calls me. I always am.” Tasia held the thread up to the light and seemed just as entranced by its power as everyone else was. “Carl always gets his way, doesn’t he?”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Elaine said, glancing over her shoulder as if to make sure they were alone. “You’re not paid to be violated.”
Tasia tossed the thread into the garbage can. “Oh yes, I am,” she said.