Spiraling Deception (3 page)

Growing up in an all-male household was at
times frustrating and at other times hilariously comical. Their
unconventional lifestyle was one enormous adventure to a
seven-year-old.

Like for all little children, my mom and dad
were my whole world, so losing them was soul-destroying. But Uncle
Mike and Jake did their best to fill the huge void that was left
after their passing.

To me, their lifestyle was magical and
purely fantastical. Uncle Mike had been a carnie (carnival folk)
his whole life, so even though he had a permanent home based in Los
Angeles, he spent six months of every year on the road traveling
from city to city, state to state to perform at various county
fairs and carnivals, and Jake and I traveled with him. He’d
homeschool us when we were on the road and when at home, Jake and I
attended a local school in the district where we lived.

Jake and I loved to help out where we could,
always fetching this and that for the performers, and they always
made us kids feel important. When we grew older, the acrobat team
would let us train with them, teaching us tricks until we got good
enough to participate in the shows.

Ten years ago, Uncle Mike
started his own acrobatic troupe called the
Amazing Lawsons
and I was lucky
enough to be included as a member of the troupe.

My mother was a gymnast in her youth and a
darn good one, according to all her medals Uncle Mike kept. He once
told me she represented on a state level, and as a kid it was her
one true passion. As soon as I could walk, Mom had me in the local
gymnastic group as well as dance classes and I kept taking them
through the years.

My specialty was the aerial silk ribbon. To
me, there was nothing more freeing, more liberating then when I was
suspended high in the air, dancing and moving to the music, my body
flowing while safely entwined in the smooth silk of the ribbon.
Last year, Jake’s acrobat partner had left the troupe, so I
partnered up with him and combined our routines, modifying both his
trapeze act and my aerial performance.

Although I loved performing, toward the end
of high school I realized that it wasn’t something I wanted to do
permanently for a living, so I decided to go to college and become
an elementary schoolteacher. The idea of making a difference in a
child’s life, teaching and guiding them in a positive way just like
Uncle Mike did for me, was inspiring.

Did you know research shows that the most
influential years in a person’s life are between birth and the age
of twelve? After reading that in social studies during my sophomore
year, I knew instantly I wanted to become a teacher. I wanted to be
a positive influence in the lives of young kids and if I could just
make even a small difference for the better in their future, then
it would be an extremely rewarding career path to take.

My heart was set on teaching either the
first or second grade. I particularly loved children of that
age—they’re so impressionable, full of innocence, and totally
absent of all those crappy pretenses that seem to form as we grow
older. To me, the only thing that matched a child’s boundless
energy was their genuine enthusiasm for life and all it could
offer.

After graduation, I couldn’t wait to start
teaching but with the downturn in the economy of recent years, good
teaching positions were slim pickings. I’d managed to get some
part-time work as a temp substitute teacher in several local
schools over the past year, grateful for the hands-on experience,
but I needed a permanent teaching tenure. My very own class and my
very own group of kids was my dream, therefore I’d started to apply
to various schools across the country. Leaving California would be
daunting; it meant leaving Courtney, Jake, and Uncle Mike. But at
twenty-five and well into the realm of adulthood, I had to make my
way in this world at some point.

The performance in
Bordeaux followed by a couple of nights with Courtney and Jake in
Paris was going to be the perfect high to end my last performance
with the troupe before I settled down in my teaching career. Court
and I had always dreamed of going to Paris since we were ten years
old and watched the movie
Funny
Face
with Audrey Hepburn at Courtney’s
grandparents’ house during the Christmas holidays that
year.

We only had two days and two nights in the
City of Light but I couldn’t wait! Courtney and I literally had a
three-page list of all the sights we wanted to see, much to Jake’s
increasing dismay. I guess he had hoped for a romantic weekend
together with Court before they had the baby but Court was adamant
she wanted to see everything she could possibly manage in those two
days, and I was so totally with her on that score.

“
Charli. I’m home.” From
under the spray of the shower, I heard Courtney calling out. The
sound of her voice followed by the slamming of the front door drew
me from thoughts of Paris.

After I turned off the shower, I grabbed a
soft lemon towel and wrapped it around my wet body just as Courtney
barged through the door of the bathroom. Through the steam, I
noticed her hands were fisted on her hips.

“
I cannot believe you’re
not even packed yet, Charli!” Courtney’s glare was almost as
withering as her tone.

“
Who said I haven’t? And
do you mind giving a girl some privacy here.” I hiked the towel up
higher on my body.

“
Pfft…it’s nothing I
haven’t seen before,” she scoffed dismissively. “We’re meant to be
at the airport in less than three hours and you haven’t even
packed, let alone dressed yet. Get your ass into gear, girlfriend.
Now!”

“
Court, may I remind you,
I’m not the one who takes two hours to get ready when we go
out—that’s you, babe,” I pointed out, aiming for patience.
“Besides, for your information, I have packed.” I pushed past an
affronted Courtney and walked into my bedroom.

“
What? You’re only taking
a carry-on with you to France?” squeaked Courtney, who followed
closely behind.

When I glanced at my best friend, she had an
incredulous, horrified expression plastered on her features. One
arm waved at the small pink rollaway case I’d placed by the door of
my bedroom.

“
Yeah,” I replied, drawing
the word out. “We are only going for three days, Court, not two
weeks.”

“
But…but,” she stuttered.
Her hands flapped wildly around in the air and I wanted to laugh at
her.

Clearly this was beyond her comprehension.
Courtney was the kind of girl who had to have at least three outfit
choices to select from each day and her shoe fetish was worse. At
last count, Courtney owned approximately one hundred and twenty-two
pairs of shoes and that was only counting pumps, wedges, and
sandals, not including the bazillion sneakers, boots, and
flip-flops she’d acquired over the years. How the girl wasn’t
completely broke from her shoe addiction was beyond me.

I sighed loudly. “Court, I have my costume
for the show, two pairs of jeans, three tops, a hoodie, my beige
trench coat, pajamas, enough underwear, and one dress with matching
heels for a night out—that’s it. That’s all I’m going to need for
three days. Unlike you, who’s probably packed at least ten pairs of
shoes alone for the trip.” I couldn’t help adding the jab at her
ridiculous shoe fixation.

“
Twelve,” she sheepishly
replied.

I should have known! I shook my head in
exasperation. I turned away from Court and pulled out a pair of
white linen pants and a soft blue long-sleeved t-shirt from my
wardrobe, opting for clothes that would be comfy enough to wear on
the thirteen-hour flight to Paris and the following one-hour flight
from Paris to Bordeaux. The most hours I had ever spent on a plane
at one time was five—it was going to be a long night.

“
Okay, fine, but don’t
complain to me when you don’t have a thing to wear.” Courtney
huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “And when we go shopping
on the
Champs-Élysées
in Paris and you don’t have any extra room for all the things
you buy, don’t expect me to put them in my suitcases. You’ll have
to buy another one when you’re there.” She turned and walked from
my room.

“
No, Court. We’re
sightseeing, remember. Two days is all we have,” I yelled futilely
at her retreating back. “We’re going to be too busy seeing as much
of Paris as we can. We won’t have time for shopping.”

I’m a woman—of course I love shopping just
as much as the next girl. Nevertheless, seeing Paris for the first
time in my life, I wanted to see everything possible, not waste all
our time shopping. The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame—two
days wasn’t nearly long enough.

“
Yeah, yeah.” I heard her
mumble. “We’ll find time to shop, I promise you.”

Courtney was probably
right—what girl in her right mind could resist at least a little
shopping action on the famous
Champs-Élysées in gorgeous Paris?

Not me—that’s for sure!

Chapter Two

Courtney squealed and elbowed me as we sat
in the back of the mini bus. “Ohmigod! Would you look at this
palace!”

She jumped jubilantly up and down on the
seat, jostling my body, but my gaze remained transfixed on the
incredibly majestic view sprawled out before us.

“
It’s a chateau, Court,
not a palace,” I corrected absently as I took in the breathtaking
scene.

And boy, what a chateau it
was! Four stories high, built entirely from large white limestone,
complete with two commanding gothic turrets
and surrounded with what appeared to be hundreds of acres
upon hundreds of acres of lush, vivid green countryside and
picturesque vineyards. Wrought-iron gates silently guarded the
entrance to a long, tree-lined, white gravel road that ended in a
circular driveway, complete with a six-foot limestone fountain
positioned in the center of the driveway. Sweeping steps were
flanked by huge columns on either side and at the very top of the
stairs proudly stood a set of huge double oak doors trimmed with
iron hinges.

As I scanned the monumentally imposing
structure, I tried to quickly count the windows on each floor but
there were just too many—there must be like twenty plus rooms in
the chateau!

An elderly man with a goatee, wearing a
three-piece suit and a dazzling purple tie, smiled warmly at us as
we got out of the van.

“
Bonjour and welcome to
France, mademoiselles and monsieur. I am Henri LeSage, the
operational manager of Chateau Mon Desire.”

“
Bonjour,” Courtney and I
sung in unison and then giggled like the enthusiastic tourists we
were. The French language is so melodiously sensual.

“
I’m Charli.” I extended
my hand toward the Frenchman. He nodded politely and then drew me
in for a chaste double-cheeked kiss.

Jake extended his hand. “I’m Jake and this
is Courtney.” They shook hands and then Mr. LeSage kissed Courtney
on both of her cheeks.

“
I do hope your flight was
not too exhausting.” His voice had a heavy accent. “Your rooms are
ready and Mr. Lawson and the rest of your troupe are almost
finished with the preparations for tonight’s performance in the
grand ballroom. I’ll be happy to show you there once you have
settled in.”

Uncle Mike, along with Toby, Jane, and
Frank, flew over a day earlier to set up the trapezes, staging, and
lighting. Jake and I weren’t needed until final rehearsals that
afternoon before the evening’s show. The Amazing Lawsons was a
small acrobatic troupe that consisted only of the six of us—seven
before Jake’s old partner left—but somehow it worked.

“
Thank you, Mr. LeSage,
and thank you for having us.”

“
You’re most welcome,
Mademoiselle Charli, but please call me Henri.” His warm brown eyes
were kind and sincere.

“
How many rooms does this
chateau have, Henri?” Courtney practically bounced on the balls of
her feet in excitement. I knew how she felt—this place was
extraordinary. I couldn’t wait to go exploring.

“
Ah…Chateau Mon Desire
boasts twenty-two bedrooms, twenty-eight bathrooms, a grand
ballroom, formal dining hall, library, and two receiving lounges,
as well as nine other rooms.” Henri rattled off the impressive
numbers with unconcealed pride in his voice. “The chateau was built
in 1694 and is not only one of the oldest chateaus in Sauternes but
in all of the Bordeaux region.”

“
Wow,” Courtney breathed,
and together we both craned our heads back to take in the full
height of the structure.

Wow didn’t even begin to express the
enchanting estate—as if materialized straight from a child’s fairy
tale, the scene was surreal.

“
I remember reading
somewhere there are literally thousands of chateaus in Bordeaux,” I
murmured, unable to take my eyes off the view.

“
Oui, Charli. There are
over nine thousand, six hundred and twenty chateaus in the Bordeaux
region of France.” The sound of my name rolling over his tongue in
that musical French accent immediately made me want to learn the
French language just so I could sound like that too.

“
I would be delighted to
give all of you a tour of the estate later this afternoon, but
first, please allow me to show you to your rooms so you may freshen
up.” Henri gestured us toward the distinguished staircase with a
sweep of his hand.

Jake gave me a quick kiss on my cheek when
we arrived at the door to my assigned room. “I’ll come and get you
in half an hour for rehearsals.”