His Secret Palace

Chapter 6 - Mother

“Bi-bi-bi-bi-bip! Bi-bi-bi-bi-bip! Bi-bi-bi-bi-bip! Bi-bi-bi-bi-bip!!! Bi-bi-bi-bi-bip!”

“Oh! Mer! What the hell are you doing? Wake up! It’s seven ‘o’ clock! Weren’t you supposed to have dinner with your mom?”

I open my eyes and jump up from my couch. I’m still in my uniform. Becky is hopping up and down in front of me. With her keys in her hand, her jacket on her back and her purse over her shoulder, she looks like she’s just got home from an evening out.

I thank her. “You’re my savior! What would I do without you? I don’t think I even heard my alarm!”

“I noticed! Come on! It’s time to take off your uniform and get a move on, my girl! I stretch out for a second… and now I’m ready to turbo-charge. I don’t want to be late for dinner with my mother!

I try to go by her house regularly, but we don’t see each other that often. And I’d really hate not to see her tonight. She’s been so down lately.

“Who’s James by the way?”

I freeze. I haven’t told Becky about him yet. How does she know about him? “Huh? What’s that? James? Why are you asking me that?”

“No reason. It’s just… you were talking about him in your sleep!”

I dodge her question. “Oh yeah! Sure! If you say so! Why not? Errr… Maybe there was a James in my dream?”

“Maybe? No! I can assure you there was a James in your dream. And he wasn’t in a supporting role! He was definitely more like hero!”

I feel a little embarrassed and end our conversation with a vague gesture of the hand. I don’t want to dwell on this. I’m still a little out of it, so I rush into the shower and don’t bother to give Becky an answer. I don’t have time to get into a discussion with her right now!

Becky would start through analysis of my dreams before comparing her findings with my astral predictions… blah… blah… there’s just no way!

***

I slowly push open the door to my mother’s apartment and pop my head inside. There’s no one there. I put the groceries I brought for dinner on the counter before I go looking for her. I hope she’s okay.

My mother’s apartment may not be huge, but I don’t see her anywhere. I call out to her. “Mommy? It’s Mer! Are you in here? Did you forget our dinner?”

I see a figure in front of the window. My mother turns towards me. She looks so tired. “Mer! How are you, sweetheart? I’m so glad you’re here!” My mother is doing her best to be cheerful, but I get the feeling she’s not at her best.

She comes up to me and I hold her gently. I know how’s she feeling and I don’t want to push it. “I’m happy to see you too, Mom. I’m really glad. I’m fine. A little slammed at work, but I’m fine.”

“Is that why you have dark circles under your eyes like that? is it the job? Well, they must be making you work overtime at the diner! I hope you’re paid well at least, because it looks exhausting…”

“Waitressing is tiring Mom! But yes, with the tips I get, I’m doing fine.” I maintain the lie. I can’t tell her anything, even though I’m basically doing all this for her…

I’m suddenly plagued by vivid memories of our last fight.

I can see my mother again with a hard look on her face and tears rolling down her cheeks. It was maybe two weeks ago now.

Mom… What’s the matter? I don’t understand… What’s the matter with you?”

“Don’t ever go through my things again!”

I try to put the image out of my mind and turn my attention back to my mother does she remember it like I do?

She needs me. She needs to know I’m here and that I support her. If I knew the truth, I could help her get better! But I don’t know the truth. At least for now.

“Come on, Mom! I’ll make us a nice meal.”

My mother nods and gives me a half-smile. She then starts setting the table.

“Salvadorian? Sound okay? I got it next door at El Pueblo because I know you like it.”

“The cans of beans, eggs, tomatoes, onions, and other little treats are now out the table and I can see a real smile back on my mother’s face. “That’s perfect honey. I’m not very hungry, so don’t bother about me.”

I’m pretty upset to hear my mother tell me she has no appetite… but I have to keep trying. I really want to cheer her up. I try to be considerate. “Is that okay? You got everything you need? You don’t need anything?”

“It’s perfect darling. You are adorable! You always are! I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

I get up and hug my mother before kissing her on the cheek. I would love to see her feeling better. We look at each other. But my mother’s eyes are veiled in a deep sadness. I would so love to her look happy for once.

Back to my apartment, I can’t help but think of my mother as I try to find a dress for the gala. I hope I can at some point unravel the mystery of her past. I think something must have happened… and it’s at the root of her chronic depression.

But right now, thinking about all that isn’t gonna help me pick out a dress. Looking at the contents of my closet, there isn’t a great deal of choice.

My long black dress? It’s quiet classy, not outrageous at all, not too flashy, and discreet. It’ll do the trick! It won’t be able to compete with the five thousand dollar dressed the guests will be wearing tomorrow, but it’s the best I’ve got!

I’ll just have to make do with it! It’s not like I’m planning on seducing anyone during this gala. I doubt I’ll even get noticed…

***

“Go on! Don’t put it all in… or it’ll change the color of the coffee and he’ll kill you!” Owen warns me.

Damian just left the break room while his coffee cup is filling up in the machine. I take this opportunity to pour salt into his drink. Owen is over excited and impatient, taking regular glances at the door to make sure Damian doesn’t come back.

“Trust me! He won’t see anything! He might smell it, though!” I giggle.

“It’s not a nasty joke, is it? Actually…. It’s a classic!”

“Yeah… and he’s got it coming. It’s nothing compared with what he did to me with that whole Mr. Kauffman business!”

But I stop putting more salt. Owen’s right! Half an ounce of salt will definitely ruin his coffee. With a dose like that, our little joke should work just fine!

I walk away from the coffee machine and carefully put the salt shaker back in its place as if nothing’s happened.

Close call! Damian enters the room and grabs is steaming cup. He takes a sip… and starts to wince. Owen and I are absolutely desperate to burst out laughing. Damian takes another sip, just to make sure. He has trouble swallowing it.

“Is something wrong with the coffee machine?”

Owen and I swirl our delicious coffees around in our cups before taking a sip. “I don’t think so. My coffee’s perfect. It’s smooth and sweet…” I say taking another sip.

“No worries with mine either. I mean, it’s pretty great, maybe slightly more bitter than usual, but it’s delish.”

Aaaaah…. Seeing Damian look as sick as a dog as he drinks his coffee and not understanding what’s happening to him is priceless.

And judging by that little smirk on his face, I think Owen must feel the exact same way I do. “Why? Don’t you like the coffee in this place? It’s top notch!”

Damian looks at us for a moment… as if he suspects something. He then takes another sip of coffee and makes another face. “No, it’s excellent! It’s really… excellent.”

Margaret enters the room and interrupts us. “Come on, let’s go! Mr. Yvain-Cadieux is waiting in the ballroom to brief us.”

Damian sighs with relief and throws the contents of his cup into the sink. Owen and I just manage not to laugh in front of Margaret.

In the ballroom, the entire hotel team is hard at work. They’re dealing with decoration, table plans, floral arrangements… Nothing is being left to chance. They remind me of little worker ants.

The ballroom is in full swing in a sort of coordinated choreography. The ballroom is absolutely sumptuous and it looks like every member of staff is busy setting up everything in record time. I must admit that I’m pretty much in awe.

There’s so much beauty and energy being put into this event – just a single night of dancing and celebration.

In the midst of all the excitement, Harold Yvain-Cadieux calls over Margaret and our little group. “Alrighty, Miss Sasha! Hurry up! I’m not going to wait for you all day!”

He can’t be serious? It’s not just me, is it? I’m right behind Damian, but just in front of Owen! Why is he only talking to me? “I’m sorry! I wish I could go faster, but Damian’s right in front of me, so…”

·        Harold gives me an annoyed look before turning to everyone and starting his briefing with his imposing voice.

·         

·        “As you all know, our annual gala is tonight. Our Michelin-starred chef, Heston Blumenthal, has been busy in the kitchen for four days now! And rightly so! This is no ordinary gala! It’s THE gala that all of Los Angeles, and indeed the world, looks forward to every year! It’s an eminent tradition at the Secret palace, a must-see event that no major international player would dare miss! Once again, this year we will have the honor of hosting the Devin Foundation Charity Gala. Actors, singers, athletes, politicians, businessmen…. Anyone who’s in L.A. will be there tonight. That means the press too!”

Harold punctuates his speech with silence and stares at each of us in turn to underline the importance of what he’s about to say. “There is no room for error! You cannot make a single mistake! I say this to you particularly, Miss Sasha. You’ve only just started working here, so watch yourself!”

I’m offended. Yes, I just got here, but he doesn’t need to assume that I’m going to mess up.

He continues. “There will be two pivotal moments in the evening. First, the opening of the gala, with its traditional waltz. It always brings all the guests together. Then the equestrian show which has greatly contributed to the reputation of the Secret Palace galas over the years. It’s absolutely unmissable!”

Perfect… That’s two windows of opportunity to find what I’m looking for: the employee register. Everyone will be busy and I’ll have time to go about my business unnoticed.

Harold releases us all and everyone goes back to what they were doing. I hear him call out to me. “Just a moment, Miss Sasha! I’m not done with you yet!”

What does he want from me? What did I do? I’m worried. Going from is tone, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to pay me a compliment. I don’t want to talk with him alone. I don’t feel up to it…

“The Secret Palace gala is not your average party. I’m counting on you to rise to the occasion. The stakes are high! One mistake tonight and you could lose your job. Do I make myself clear?”

Crazy, unfair pressure! That’s exactly what I need. Go ahead! It’s not like I have enough of that already. Especially with my secret mission!

 I don’t want to make waves, so I reply calmly. “It’s absolutely crystal clear. My behavior and professionalism will be exemplary at all times.”

I think he should realize how invested I am after that. At least I managed to hold my tongue and didn’t speak out-of-line. Harold looks at me from head to toe and walks off.

Margaret is just nearby talking to a guest. The woman is clearly loaded and about two hundred years old. She seems to be asking for something.

As she leaves, Margaret rushes over to me. “Mrs. Shaw is in the Amber Suite and she’d completely forgotten about the gala. She needs a necklace, brooch and bracelet. And she has very specific tastes! Diamond, sapphire, ruby in white or rose gold. She’ll adapt her outfit to suit. I’m going to entrust you with the hotel’s credit card. You need to do a good job on this!”