Chambers of Desire: Opus 1

by Sophie Moreau

  “Mr. Chambers,” I answered, shifting in my seat.

  “Calvin,” he answered. “You’ll call me Calvin. Either that or Master.”

  “Master?”

  His serious expression had softened, and I saw the same beginning of a smile dance on his lips. It felt strangely like a psychiatrist’s office, me on the couch, Calvin watching me expectantly. I was no stranger to this setup, having been forced into therapy when my mom discovered some of my embarrassing issues with clothes. Dr. Shelton Bouvier, a middle-aged psychoanalyst specializing in teenage angst, would sit across from me, just like this, waiting for me to speak. “This is a safe place,” he’d say, but I knew that every Thursday, he called the house to discuss our sessions with my mother. She paid extra for that.

  “You met Du Cheval yesterday,” Calvin began in that low and throaty voice. He hadn’t asked a question, but I knew he expected an answer.

  “Yes,” I said, “He was… nice.” It was a lie, but it seemed the right thing to say.

  Calvin’s mouth twitched in amusement, “Nice? A polite thing to say, but far from true. I apologize if he was a little blunt with you. But he’s thorough, loyal, trustworthy, especially when it comes to secrets. I think your opinion of him might change as we spend time together.”

  Secrets? I wondered.

  “How long has he worked for you?” I asked. So far, the two men couldn’t be more different, and I wondered how they got along.

  “Six years,” he answered. “I’ve never been disappointed. He told me you’re a dancer,” Calvin continued huskily.

  I smiled, glad to speak about a topic that wouldn’t send blood rushing to my face. “Yes. I’ve danced since I was seven. Modern dance. I’m studying it at SMU, but I also teach dance to little girls on the weekends at a private studio.”

  “It’s your passion,” he commented, dark eyes on mine. There was no trace of the mocking I’d seen in Du Cheval’s eyes the day before when we discussed the subject.

  ”Yes,” I said. “It is. Dance offers a challenge, physically, emotionally, mentally. It’s demanding, but the rewards are enormous.”

  He smiled a genuine smile, not that half-smirk I’d seen in the photo, and my heart skipped another beat. “I actually am a bit of a dance fan myself. I have season tickets to the New York City Ballet and the American Ballet Theatre. Have you been to either?”

  ”Not yet,” I said. “Naturally, I’ve studied performances, but I haven’t had the opportunity to come in person. Dallas has an amazing dance company, but it’s nowhere near the caliber of the New York City Ballet. I’d love to see the Nutcracker.” I smiled, revisiting old memories. “The first time I saw it, as a child, I wanted to grow up to be Clara.”

  “And have you?”

  I laughed, finally feeling at ease, talking about a subject I loved. “Yes, I have had the role of Clara—once, when I was thirteen.”

  He raked his hand through his thick, wavy hair, still smiling.

  “You must be quite the dreamer,” he mused. “Be careful, dreams do come true. Would you like to dance professionally yourself?” I wondered whether his questions would eventually turn suggestive, as Du Cheval’s had.

  I nodded. “I hope to. But it’s extremely competitive. If I don’t continue as a performer, I’d like to open a studio..”

  “What does family think of all that?”

  Funny, how the same question Du Cheval had asked sounded so different coming from Calvin. Suddenly, this brought back all these painful memories. My father’s words about my major, Brandon’s infidelity. I was overwhelmed with emotion, and I had the urge to tell him everything. Instead, I dropped my head, hoping to stave off the tears. “Nothing good,” I said.

  ”And what do they think you should do, Sabrina?”

  “Something… practical. Something they think is practical, rather.”

  He seemed satisfied with that answer.

  “I hate to agree, but I must say there’s a lot of danger out in the world. Even between people you’re close to. Even your family.” I sighed.

  “No boyfriend, I assume?” He kept his voice light.

  “An ex-boyfriend,” I said, struggling to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

  “Ah, the ex-boyfriend.”

  “He…” I paused. I wasn’t quite ready to share everything with this man. “I don’t want to talk about it. And, well, my parents and I disagree about that too.”

  “He hurt you and your parents were on his side,” Calvin said thoughtfully, as if he was analyzing the deepest implications of that fact.

  It sounded awful. Suddenly tears welled up.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, wiping them away, hoping my eyeliner wasn’t smeared all over my face. “The last few weeks have been hectic and today… well, I’m just overwhelmed I guess.”

  Calvin stood and moved to sit beside me on the sofa. Very close beside me, in fact. He guided my chin with one hand to turn my face toward his, and wiped away a stray tear.

  “Shhh. Life is not an easy thing. It’s okay to feel that way. But I’m wondering… do you even want to do this, Sabrina?” he asked.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Well, you were just a face before you came here, but now I’ve met you and… let’s just say I’d hate for you to do something you would later regret.”

  “Why did you bid on me then? ” I asked.

  “I am not sure, Sabrina. I thought there was something special about you and it turned out I was right. And don’t get me wrong, I want you to stay, especially now that I’ve met you. But I only want you to do it if…”

  “I want to do it,” I said. “It’s the first independent thing I have done in my entire life, it’s not just revenge.”

  Thoughtful, he cupped my chin and looked deep into my eyes. He’s touching me. This is the man that’s going to… Calvin released my chin and nodded.

  “Were you close to your parents before this?” he asked.

  “About as close as New York is to Dallas,” I said, looking down. The tears were threatening again, but I held them back. Calvin tipped my chin up toward him again and I gasped a bit in surprise.

  The blue of his eyes seemed to have deepened, darkened. He wasn’t smiling. Had I made him angry?

  His eyes searched mine. “Families are complex,” he said. “I know that some questions don’t have easy answers.” So the seriousness wasn’t anger… Sympathy. Maybe empathy. What was Calvin Chamber’s family like? It struck me again how very little I knew of this man.

  He moved back on the couch, his tone businesslike again. “Well, then on to the business arrangement. Did Du Cheval discuss the contract with you?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “We went over the nondisclosure agreement. Is there more?” I asked, half hoping there would be… so I would know more about what to expect… and half fearful. What have I gotten myself into? I wondered. I mean… the artwork and everything, it already seemed like there would be something other than traditional intercourse involved. Focus, Sabrina, I told myself, knowing my mind was about to wander. The women in that painting… “Yes, there’s a good deal more.” Calvin said, leaning forward. “The sooner we discuss the details, the better.”

  “As you know, I made an offer for three million, and if you accept the terms of the agreement, you will get your share as a check. As soon as your part of the transaction is complete, you will receive it from me personally.”

  “What are the terms?” I asked nervously, thinking of the artwork in his office. Was there more to it than just the loss of my virginity? His eyes flashed playfully. “I’m getting there.”

  “The contract states that you’ll spend the next three weeks with me. Twenty-one days exactly. You’ll arrive at my house every morning at 9:30 a.m. unless agreed otherwise and accompany me to work, any functions that might happen over the next few weeks, any meetings. We’ll spend all meals together—breakfast, lunch, and dinner—but you’ll return to your hotel in the evening. Unless of cour
se, we agree otherwise.”

  Huh? asked my sophisticated inner monologue. I’d auctioned my virginity… although, to be fair, three weeks wasn’t much to ask in return for three million dollars.

  Maybe. Three weeks of what?

  “I’m… I’m a little confused,” I said. Brilliant, Sabrina. Understatement of the year.

  “Which part is confusing?” he asked. Not as if I were an idiot, thankfully. He was way more charming and—seemingly—patient than Oliver.

  “Well, I mean, the auction was for my… virginity. Three weeks… is… well, when…” I trailed off, not sure what to ask without sounding rude. I felt the blush creeping up my neck again, my cheeks burning. Calvin gave a slight smile. “Well, I’m not intending to pay you $3 million dollars for one hour of your time, Sabrina.”

  I nodded again. “But, um, there is one thing.” I was blushing furiously now. “I thought that this will just involve my virginity, now it seems like it will be more like being your girlfriend. Isn’t this just about my virginity?” God, that sounded strange, but how does one discuss these things? I had to ask… I couldn’t take just not knowing. Especially for three more weeks!

  Calvin chuckled. “You’re worried, then?”

  “Well… I just…” I steadied myself. This was business, of a sort. I could be businesslike, too. Really. I could. “I want to know, so that I can be prepared. I think that’s fair enough.”

  ”You’re a smart girl, Sabrina and I have a thing for smart women like you. What we’re going to do is to agree to spend the three weeks together and at some point we will have sex and I will make you mine… when both of us are ready. Unless you change your mind.”

  I stared at him, piecing together what he said. “But… that’s what the auction… that’s not in the contract, really?”

  He shook his head, still smiling, “Well, we could just do it right now but even though you might say you’re ready, your eyes tell me that you’re not. You might be interested to know that I push the limit in bed in every sense of the way. But there won’t be any physical contact until you’re comfortable and want it to happen. And I mean, would you want me to just do you right here right now? I want it to build up, I want us to get to know each other a little bit, and I want you to be confident this is what you want before you commit. Trust me, this decision is best for both of us.” His eyes promised that I would want it and beg for it in fact.

  “That seems awfully considerate of you.”

  Something was unusual about this guy. I mulled this over. Of all of the things I’d expected, imagined… this wasn’t one of them. On the one hand, it was a relief not to rush right to the bedroom. He was right about one thing. I wasn’t ready. But on the other hand, I didn’t know this man. Three weeks, all day, day in and day out… what if he changed his mind? What if I did? Having sex with a stranger is one thing (well, as I imagined it), having sex with someone I’d grown to actually dislike was something else.

  Even at this early point, however, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to stop being intrigued with Calvin. If anything, three weeks might be all too brief.

  “One more thing,” he said, uncrossing his legs. “If you sign this contract, any sexual contact with other men is strictly prohibited during the next twenty-one days.”

  I stared at him uncertainly. Even though I did not intend to be intimate with anyone else while I was in New York, it seemed as though Calvin was making a very clear statement.

  “Well, of course… I understand.” I said nervously. “I mean, you bid on my virginity, after all.”

  “No, I don’t think you do understand,” Calvin said. “Yes, I’m talking about virginity, but that’s not all. I want you to be focused on me. There will be no flirtations, no kissing, no sexual contact with anyone else. Any kissing or sexual contact will result in the deal falling through.”

  I hadn’t had any plans… but this made me nervous. Maybe it was because faithfulness itself was an upsetting topic for me. I saved myself for Brandon, and look where that got me. I pushed the bitter thought away. But I wasn’t going to agree without thinking through these feelings, either. This was so much different from what I’d expected.

  “I need some time to think it through,” I said.

  “I understand,” he said. There was no trace of the smile I had seen earlier; his face was unrevealing, blank.

  He slid his chair back, standing up to stretch. Wandering over to his bookshelf, he fingered the spine of an old atlas, worn and slightly frayed.

  After a moment, he looked back toward me. “This might not be right for you. That isn’t my place to decide. If you realize that you’d prefer to go back to Dallas, that won’t be a problem.”

  He pulled a book off the shelf and leafed through it, pausing occasionally to study a random page. I tried to decipher the expression on his face, wondering whether his distraction was masking disinterest.

  “I just need some time to digest everything,” I said softly.

  “Of course,” he said, still looking through the book. “You might find the better option is to return to your life at SMU. I’d understand if you weren’t ready to move forward with this type of arrangement. Consider this option, carefully. Don’t make a mistake you’ll regret later on.”

  It almost sounded as if he’d prefer I didn’t take him up on his offer; suddenly, he was starting to sound like my dad. It occurred to me that he might not want to spend the next three weeks with me, that this was just a chivalrous opportunity to release me from the obligation of giving my virginity to him. That seemed unlikely, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was encouraging me to turn him down.

  I realized I still didn’t know why he had done all this in the first place—the question that had scratched at my brain since I learned about his bid. “Are there… more details? What if I had a question for you?” I asked.

  Calvin returned to his chair, giving me his full attention. “Certainly,” he said. “What would you like to know?”

  “What did you pick me?” I asked. Because, really, it didn’t make sense. He was charismatic, physically attractive, rich… I was just a girl who happened to be a virgin.

  Again, he leaned forward as if he might let me in on a secret. I held my breath, not knowing what to expect.

  “I don’t feel I have an adequate answer. The truth is, I simply saw an article about the auction, and it—and you—fascinated me. I didn’t decide in that moment to bid, but when I found myself thinking about you, the next day, and the day after… Well.” He smiled. “I have the luxury of indulging myself when I like to. And very few things come along that really intrigue me. You intrigued me, and so I indulged myself. It seemed like an opportunity to experience something… special.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling special. “Is that why you bid so much?”

  He nodded. ”I bid so much for a few reasons. One, because I can.” He smiled, and gave a charming shrug. “Two, I hate to lose. And three, I am a busy man. I didn’t want to waste time bidding, being out bid, bidding again. Tedious. So, I bid with the intent to win. So far I have. Of course, whether or not I’m satisfied with what I’ve won… that’s up to you.”

  It sounded a little ominous… but it also thrilled me. In fact, everything he did sent little frissons of excitement though me. “Have you done anything like this before?” I asked. I couldn’t help wanting to know more, to have an idea of who he was.

  Calvin only smiled that slow half-smile. “Now, that is the sort of question I think is better left until you’ve made your decision. I’ll be happy to tell you anything you’d like, if you decide to sign… that will be our time to get to know one another better. But until then, let’s stay focused on the present situation,” he replied, making it clear that until then, his private life would stay private. He stood back up and walked over to the desk on the other side of the room. From a small drawer, he pulled out a small card and began to write on the back.

  “Any other questions?” he asked. Yes! A mill
ion! But I got the distinct feeling that he was done answering, so I shook my head. I had enough to think about already, anyway.

  “In that case,” he said, “I’ll let you have your time to think. Here’s my direct line. Please call me as soon as you’ve come to a decision. Du Cheval will see you out.”

  Calvin took my hand again. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sabrina,” he said.

  I nodded, tongue-tied by his touch, all over again. If such casual touching does this to me, what will it be like when…

  He squeezed my hand once, his face unreadable, before he let go. ”Thank you, I’ll be in touch soon.”

  ***

  Outside, a shadow of clouds had gathered over the estate, erasing the sun streaks from the day. A cool breeze whipped around me, Du Cheval leading me to the car, and I could smell rain in the air. Sure enough, as soon as we meandered down the driveway, the clouds released their weight, raindrops loudly pelting the car roof.

  I leaned my head against the cold glass, watching the water droplets snake down the window, and sighed. This was more than I had bargained for, although the allure of avoiding Dallas for a few weeks more was difficult to ignore.

  To be honest, I was afraid, terrified in fact, thinking about what the next few weeks could hold—the unknown—but what frightened me even more was thinking about getting on a plane back to Texas. I didn’t want to go back to Dallas. I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to face Brandon or my parents. I wasn’t sure whether I ever would be. What I wanted, what I needed, was a respite from their demands and painful accusations, something Calvin was offering me on a silver platter. A three-million-dollar silver platter, to be exact.

  And I realized that I liked spending the morning with Calvin. He was far more interesting than I had expected. I didn’t know how he’d done that, causing alarm to surge through my body but at the same time offering safety and protection.

  He differed from anyone I had ever met, so much more real than the phonies back in Dallas were, with their fake smiles and oh-so-perfect lives. Somehow, I knew I’d regret giving up the chance to become part of his world. This was truly the first time I made a decision without giving a second thought to what anyone else would think, which was exhilarating, and I didn’t want the feeling to end.