How to Bed a Millionaire, page 5
“This is the living room,” Chao explains somewhat unnecessarily. He moves over to the nearest table, picks up a remote control and turns on the AC. A cold breeze blows over me from all four corners.
“Feel free to linger here whenever you want. It’s hardly ever used. There’s a movie screen, a projector, a Dolby surround sound system, a music app…” Chao picks up an iPad lying next to the AC remote control. “You’ll find all you need in here.”
I doubt that the iPad really has all I need, but very wisely I keep my mouth shut for once.
After that, we visit the terrace, which is empty, apart from a huge, covered outdoor kitchen in one corner, complete with a barbecue you could grill a whole pig on. The view over the lower tiers, the two swimming pools connected by the overflow cascade, and the rock that falls steeply down to the sea is breathtakingly beautiful. Even from here, you can’t see any neighbors. If it weren’t for the yachts cruising lazily in the distance and the airplanes overhead gliding noiselessly toward the Nice airport, I’d feel like Robinson Crusoe on his isolated isle.
The top-of-the-notch luxury version of it, that is.
“How awesome,” I breathe.
“Again, seldom used,” Chao informs me. “I guess there are deckchairs and stuff down on the service deck, but I’m not sure. Anyway, if you know how to make the barbecue work, be my guest and use it.”
“You sure?”
He looks at me, surprised. “Why, of course. It’s not merely a decoration, you know.”
“Okay. Maybe I will.” Rather sooner than later. I love barbecues.
We return to our floor. Chao shows me where to find the AC controls in the kitchen, then explains how the intercom and the gate camera system work. They’re hidden in a cupboard I didn’t search yet. Apparently, there’s a surveillance station on each floor, and the staff has a beeper which informs them when someone has rung the intercom. “I’ll give you a set of keys afterwards,” Chao promises. “I guess that’s it for this floor. No need to show you the other rooms. You and I are all alone.”
“Oh.”
“If you need me, however, you can use the telephone in your room. Just dial #1. My room’s directly across from yours.”
“I know. You wanted to get as far away from the lunatic serial killer as possible.”
Chao has the decency to blush and look aside. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Ohmygod!” I mock-gasp. “This is the first nice and polite thing you’ve said since yesterday!”
He grins sheepishly. “You’re going to rub it in, aren’t you?”
“That phone call of yours I couldn’t help but overhear? You can bet your bottom dollar on that, sunshine.”
He boxes me in the arm, and it’s the first time I see him smile. Really smile, with mouth and eyes and hunky ears and everything. And let me tell you: when he smiles, he’s drop-dead gorgeous.
“You’re a serious pain in the ass, Trevor,” he says. “But at least, you make me laugh.”
I beam.
“Sometimes,” he adds.
I sense a strange thing in my throat, and a strange warmth on my skin. “Okay. Show me the rest,” I say hurriedly. “Er, of the villa.”
The floor below ours is the “VD” or visitors’ deck. As each floor has been built farther out, there’s a longish corridor leading from the elevator to the central room, which I locate right under the swimming pool. It turns out to be… the library, at last. Again, it has a glass front that overlooks the second swimming pool. The cascade rushing down right in front of the windows dips the vast room into shimmering hues of blue and turquoise. I don’t see much because Chao drags me back to the elevator as soon as he’s shown me the room. He also deems it unnecessary to look at the other rooms as I’m apparently the only “visitor” right now.
That’s actually what he calls me, by the way. Not “employee” nor “staff member”. No. Visitor.
Odd. But it sounds nicer than “paid summer jobber”.
We proceed to the next floor, the “SD”, or service deck, which is housed in the rocky outcrop I’ve seen from the pool deck. The windowless corridor leading to the rooms is even longer, and the AC transforms it into an icehouse. The vast central lodgings are divided into several decent-sized rooms. No one’s around. I gather the staff members get warned when their housekeeper is about to show up and scuttle away like cockroaches when you switch on a light.
We walk back to the elevator. Right next to it is a thick steel door and a cupboard. “There’s one last room I’d like to show you,” Chao says while taking a key from the cupboard. He inserts the key into the lock of the steel door, pushes it open, and beckons me inside. He gives the door another shove against the wall, probably to prevent it from slamming shut.
“If you’re hungry or thirsty, here are our stocks.” Chao points at the shelves—loads of them—which are stacked with boxes, cans, jars, bottles, whatever you need, from fancy pasta and exotic rice to expensive-looking preserves, from water bottles to stacks of wine to priceless whiskeys I only know from hearsay. At the back, there are three huge freezers.
“Wow!” I breathe, and a cloud steams out of my mouth. “Looks like Aladdin’s cave for gourmets!”
“We have an account with Fauchon2, so you can order deliveries whenever you want. There’s an app on the iPad upstairs.”
“Good to know.” Fauchon! I know how expensive they are, so I’m hardly going to order from them. I’ll rather take Sean on a trip to the nearest supermarket to get fresh food.
Chao shows me a pile of cans. “I recommend these: Portuguese sardines, filleted and canned by hand in a small manufactory near Braga.”
“Hm.” I put my finger on my lips, mock pensive. “Fauchon delicacies and Braga sardines. You can never go wrong with those.”
He chuckles.
I step back to take in the stocks, making a mental list of what is missing: tomatoes, lettuce, cucumber, bell peppers, potatoes, simple canned tuna… Ordinary food, in other words.
Unfortunately, I stumble over Chao’s foot and bump against the door.
Which suddenly gives way.
Startled, I shoot forward.
At the same moment, Chao bellows, “Don’t touch the door!”
Aghast, we both watch the heavy steel door slam shut.
BANG!
“Oops. Too late,” I say.
“Oh my God!”
“Oh my God!” Chao whispers. “Oh my God!” He shoves me aside to stare at the door which, yes, is pretty much closed now. “What have you done?”
“Er… I touched the door. Manifestly.”
“Why the dickens would you do that when I told you expressly not to?” He rubs his face.
“It was already too late!” I hiss. “What’s the big deal, anyway?”
“The big deal? The key’s outside! And without the key, the door cannot be opened from inside, you… you fuckhead.”
All right. We’re back to swearing.
I glower at him.
He glowers back, but I detect a hint of panic in his eyes. Apparently, being locked in doesn’t bring out the best in him.
“I’m sure a staff member will come and find us in no time,” I try to soothe him.
“But nobody’s here! Haven’t you noticed that yet? We’re all alone. Literally all alone, you and I!”
Oh. I guessed as much, yes. Frankly, I’d have preferred to get the confirmation under different circumstances, though.
“How come?” I ask, genuinely puzzled.
“I sent them all packing last week.”
That strikes me as a bit presumptuous on the part of a housekeeper. “Why would you do that?” I enquire. “Did someone touch your door inadvertently?”
Chao doesn’t find that funny. “They weren’t needed because I was supposed to stay here all by myself,” he spits. “I didn’t know a certain Mr. Trouble would show up in a pink yoghurt pot, run around half-naked, then get us trapped inside the food storage room.”
“So, you thought why not fire everybody? Your logic escapes me.”
“I didn’t fire them. I gave them paid leave, you sanctimonious nitwit.”
“How generous of you.” My voice is dripping with sarcasm. “But never mind. Basically, what you’re trying to tell me is that no one will come to get us out of here. Like, we’re definitely trapped.”
He nods with pinched lips.
I throw my hands up. “Well, great. Congrats. Let’s just stand around, then, and wait until we starve.”
He stares at me. If he were less la-di-da, he’d be doing something else, I’m sure. Like slap me or throttle me. Finally, he shakes his head and makes a slow hand movement to point at the full shelves around us. “Starve? Not very likely.”
“Oh. Right. Thank God for hand-canned sardines,” I say drily. “And, you know, preserves from Fauchon.”
“Your sarcasm isn’t helpful. You wouldn’t happen to have your cell with you, would you?”
I stupidly pat my pockets. “Er, no.”
“Fuck.”
We both know where his cell is—at the bottom of the pool—but I deem it wiser not to mention it. He really looks ready to blow a fuse. Hopefully he isn’t claustrophobic because I wouldn’t know how to deal with that.
I shiver and wrap my arms around myself. “Is it me, or is it freezing in here?”
“Duh. This room is basically a fridge. And I might add, you’re scantily dressed. Again.”
Lord, there are so many things I could reply with, none of them flattering. But at this point, I prefer to hold my tongue. I start to walk toward the back of the room instead.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to check if there’s no other way out.”
“I don’t think so.”
“That sounds pretty much like ‘I don’t know for sure.’”
He doesn’t answer, just stares wretchedly at the door as if to pry it open by sheer telekinesis.
The shelves stop right before I reach the three freezers. And there’s… another door in the wall.
I turn around and grin cheerfully at Chao. “Come here, sunshine. Maybe I’ve found an emergency exit.”
Chao joins me as I’m pulling the door open.
We step into… another room, the lights of which flare to life automatically. With a sinking feeling, I realize there’s no third door in here promising an easy exit. Just deckchairs, tables, chairs, and other garden and lounging furniture. It’s slightly warmer in here, probably because of the countless pipes running along the walls and the ceiling, but that’s the only positive point.
“Oh, good. You’re my savior. At least we’ll be able to die sitting,” Chao comments wryly.
I give him a cool glance. “I take it you’re one of those gloomy ‘The glass is half empty’-kind of guys.”
Chao shrugs and flings himself on a deckchair. “Not necessarily. I just don’t see anything half full in the current situation. Thanks for having so skillfully maneuvered us into this fucking mess.”
“What? How is it my fault?”
“Did I touch that bloody door, or did you?”
“It was a fucking accident!”
“I was taught not to touch things I had no business touching!” he snarls.
“Oh, fuck you very much. Well, I’ve been taught to always keep my keys with me, you righteous prick!” I hiss.
One score each. We could call it even.
That doesn’t relax the atmosphere, however, which remains as thick as the smog in Beijing.
I flop down on another deckchair, turn my back on Chao, and mope.
Life lesson #3
Childish behavior rarely solves problems.
Sometimes, it just feels good to indulge in it.
And then there’s an eternity of silence
And then there’s an eternity of silence. Okay, half an hour, tops, but it feels much longer. Little by little, I notice it’s not really warm in here, either. It’s warmer than in the room next door, but still. I’m shivering again.
Chao has been staring at the walls. When he hears my teeth chattering, he turns around, however, and I hear worry in his voice. “Are you okay, Trevor?”
“C-c-cold, that’s all,” I manage to say. “A-a-and I’m really sorry f-f-for… all this.”
“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just hate to be confined in small places. Makes me go pretty wacko.” He looks contrite.
I’m tempted to say he should never visit my flat, then. He’d go outright bananas. But I’m too busy trying to control my shudders. Anyway, if we die in here, the question whether he’d feel oppressed in my flat or not is irrelevant. Which it is straightaway, come to think of it.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Chao asks.
Oh, boy, yes! I howl inwardly. I just can’t help it. We could share our body heat! Ever since I first laid my eyes on this guy, my body has been telling me that this is what we should do. Among other things.
I keep that bit of raunchy wisdom to myself, though. “C-c-could you have a look and check if there’s anything I can wrap around me? Like b-b-blankets?” I ask instead.
Chao gets up and starts to rummage around. I hear him push things aside while muttering under his breath, “Hm…—No…—The mattress… no, no, no…—Hm…” After a while, he comes back with two beach towels. “You think these might do? I’m not sure they’re very clean, though.”
“Who cares about clean? Thank you,” I say, accepting them gladly. I wrap them around me, and for good measure, Chao sits beside me and rubs my arms.
“I can’t believe you remain so unfazed,” he says, not realizing that his rubbing does faze me. In the mid-section of my body.
I manage to shrug and wrap the towels over my lap to hide that fun fact. “Well, there’s food, there’s water, there’s air, so we won’t starve, die of thirst, or suffocate. And sooner or later someone will come and rescue us.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“Because I know if no one else shows up, my parents will send a search party or two.”
He looks at me quizzically.
“I promised to call them today. You can count on Mom to become alarmed if she hasn’t heard from me by this evening. She’ll alert the French army, the FBI, Scotland Yard, and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. At least.”
Chao sits back and smiles. “They care about you, don’t they?”
“They do. I know they’ll always have my back. Even my sister, although she’d rather die than admit it.”
“Tell me about them. They sound great.”
“Well, there’s not much to tell. They’re just normal guys,” I say. “No, scratch that. No one has ever called them ‘normal.’ They’re all a bit peculiar. But, you know, average.”
“M-hm.”
“My mom’s a former French teacher. As you could see, she has a penchant for strange patterns and colors. The coolers and the Fiat 500 are hers. But apart from that, she’s pretty amazing. My dad teaches English. A cool guy. Pretty amazing, too. And then, there’s Judy, my sister. She’s sixteen, very pretty, and very smart. Annoyingly so, but hey, she’s my sis.”
“Wow. You sure describe them in loving detail!” Chao smirks.
“What do you want me to tell you? Let me remind you that we met only yesterday,” I remark. “For all I know, you could be the lunatic serial killer, here. Maybe even specializing in family wipeouts.”
“Fair enough. I guess I had that coming,” Chao says.
“That you had, sunshine.”
We smile at each other.
“And your family?” I ask.
He withdraws suddenly. “I don’t want to talk about them.”
“Ew. Bad blood between you?”
“Not exactly. Just… lots of indifference. We don’t really see eye to eye, one could say.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t feel like it.”
“Thank you.” Chao briefly presses my arm.
It’s strange how much I crave his touch, and at the same time dread it. Well, “dread” isn’t the right word. He makes me nervous when he reaches out like that and gives me one of his buddy pats.
Probably because “buddy” is not what I’d really want to be to him.
Now look at my ludicrous mind playing fancy games again. It’s as if Dirk and his one-week-intensive-training in “How not to fall for the first gorgeous guy you meet” has never happened…
I get up hastily. “While you were searching for the towels, did you look for another exit, by any chance?”
Chao shakes his head. Not the guy to take action, that’s for sure.
“Well, let’s have another look, then,” I propose.
He shrugs. “If you want. Feeling better now?”
“Much better, thanks,” I say. “I’ll even keep one of these towels and wear it for the rest of my life.” I wrap it around my hips. “Look at that, sunshine. Fits me like a glove.”
He shakes his head and gets up. “Do you ever stop joshing around?”
“Maybe when I’m asleep.”
What am I doing here?
What am I doing here? Where am I going? And for fuck’s sake, why is it always up to me to do the things that get you dirty and sweaty?
Oh, right. Chao warned me that he doesn’t do well in confined spaces. Not to mention that he’d never have been able to crawl into this narrow shaft in the first place, what with his broad shoulders and muscled body. You must be scrawny and supple and borderline mental to even contemplate it.
