I Married a Millionaire

three: cara, the deal-breaker

Darius

"She rejected our help and dashed off."

Jeez, without a thanks?

Rude.

-----

Cara

Just when I thought all hope was lost.

Just when I thought that was the end for me.

Just when I let myself cave in to the darkness.

I could breathe again.

I felt a pair of muscular arms around me as I desperately clung on to whoever pulled me out of the water. It felt as if my mind was completely detached from my body. I was still in shock - I could barely make out my surroundings - but my survival instincts kicked in and my lungs were already in overdrive. Water sputtered out of me with every gasp I took.

Every breath burned like acid being forced down my throat yet I savoured every moment of it.

As soon as I felt my back come into contact with the hard surface of the floor, I summoned what strength I had left and I ran. I didn't know what I was running away from, or where I was headed towards, but I knew I had to get out of there. I didn't want to look back.

I was ashamed.

I thought I was over my fear of water; I thought I was over the trauma.

Clearly I was not.

Eventually, I found a quiet corner in an empty room. Tears, snot, pool water...I was drenched and cold. My knees caved in before I slumped myself against the wall and sank to the floor. I felt my chest tighten as an unfamiliar sob echoed off the walls.

Hugging my knees to my chest, I let myself cave in to the darkness again.

-----

"Rough day?"

I slammed the locker door shut.

Tugging hard at the buttons of my blouse, I swiftly changed into the white dress shirt that was laid out neatly in front of me.

"I really don't want to talk about it," I said through gritted teeth.

"You came in here looking like a drowned rat, Cara. It's sunny as f*ck outside. There's a story behind this and I'm hearing it." Leila was known to be a bit of a cheerful pill. But I was not having any of that today.

I swatted her off and turned on my heel. I was never one to talk about my feelings. I'd rather drown in them than pour it out to someone else, which in my case, seemed rather ironic.

I was silently grateful for my shift this evening - it can help take my mind off the incident.

When I'm not a manager at Jefferson's, I wait on tables at View, an exclusive restaurant for A-list celebrities and rich moguls. It was a way for me to earn some money - what with our failing family business - plus, it's the perfect place to get any insider information on the latest happenings in Hollywood. This came in especially handy for someone in my line of work.

You'd be surprised by what goes on behind those closed doors.

"Order up! Room five!"

I made my way across the bustling kitchen to pick up the order.

View had ceiling-to-floor glass windows on one side of the restaurant that overlooked the Los Angeles skyline with an unobstructed view of the obnoxious 'Hollywood' sign. 'A million-dollar view' they call it. Tables with pristine white linen were sparse and dotted around strategically for maximum privacy. Soft classical music played in the background as colossal glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Wander a little deeper and you'll find yourself at the crossroads of the exclusive private dining rooms said to have waiting lists that ran for months.