Becoming Little Jenny (A Dark Age Play Romance) (My Little World Book 2)

by Becca Little

  A card hit the floor and she picked it up. All it said was ‘Wear this -D.’

  Jennifer held the dress up to her figure and twirled like a princess as she was overcome with shock. Suddenly, she was glad Abigail wasn’t home. If Abigail would have been there and opened her closet, Jennifer wouldn’t have returned home to find the dress. She stripped down to her bra and panties, and then decided those should be changed as well.

  Once she was naked, she figured a shower couldn’t hurt. She lit a cigarette and smoked it while extracting her contacts. They were practically burned into her eyes after the night of drinking and sleeping in them, but she finally managed to get them free. She could see fairly well without them, but they helped with reading. She finished her cigarette and put her pack in the drawer. She didn’t want to show up smelling like an ashtray. He said it wasn’t a date, but the dress made her question that. It was so incredibly beautiful that it made her smile when she caught a glimpse of it hanging on the chair.

  She gargled until her mouth was clean, and brushed her teeth with a passion before she jumped in the shower and scrubbed herself clean. After she was done with that, she doused herself in perfume and dug around in her drawer for the perfect set of underwear. If the evening did turn into a date and it went the way most of her dates went, she wanted him to find something sexy underneath the dress he had picked out for her. She settled on a pair of black panties that hugged her hips and a matching bra.

  Once she had them in place around her generous breasts and curved ass, she picked up the dress again. It felt like a dream in her hands. She stepped into it and after a little struggle; she managed to zip it up. She looked like a glamour model standing in front of the mirror, sans her hair and missing makeup. She finally went to work on her final task, turning her brunette mop into something passable for a hairstyle. Once it was done, she took care in applying her makeup. She didn’t use her remover before jumping in the shower, so she had to take a few seconds to wash away what was left of the day, along with some disgusting junk in her pores that the shower missed.

  After the makeup was done and her hair was fixed, she really did look like a model. She went to her closet and found the only pair of shoes she had that would go with the dress. She was happy to have that at least. It would have been beyond embarrassing to show up wearing that dress in anything other than matching red high heels. She found a pair of stockings that didn’t have runs and she was as put together the best she could be. The moment of truth was almost there and she casually looked over at her clock.

  “Shit!” She cursed and quickly shifted her work purse contents to the one she normally used when she went on dates. Most of her stuff wouldn’t fit, but she got the essentials inside and ran out her front door ten minutes behind schedule.

  Hailing a cab and getting the ride through the city in Monday traffic proved to be a bit more cumbersome than she imagined. When she tipped the driver, and dashed towards the door of the Remington, she was already four minutes late. Her vow to be on time was already broken. Once inside, she huffed a bit from the quick sprint, pushed an errant strand of hair out of the way of her eyes, and power walked towards the hostess who had just returned from seating another guest.

  “I’m here to meet Mr. Fields.” She looked around the restaurant, but didn’t see him. She hoped he was late as well.

  Her hopes were dashed when the hostess took her to a private back room. It was not only private, it was hidden behind a curtain that made it look like the only thing there was a window. The door was opened and she stepped into a dimly lit room. Damien was already seated, but he rose when she approached the table, pulling out her chair.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” She felt ridiculous even saying it, considering it was part of what got her fired to begin with.

  “We really have to work on your timeliness.” He pushed her chair in as she sat and then took his own. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Yes please.” She took a deep breath an exhaled. If she couldn’t have a cigarette, a drink would be the next best thing. Usually, they went together, but it was the only option, so it would have to suffice.

  “I’ll have a Scotch, neat. The lady will have…” He looked to her.

  “Could I have a glass of red wine, please?” She smiled to the waiter who nodded and took his leave.

  “She’ll take your best.” Damien said with a wave of his hand the waiter quickly nodded.

  Jennifer looked up into Damien’s eyes after looking at the menu for a moment and found them staring directly at her. They were so bold that they made her nervous. She looked back down at the menu, casually sneaking a glance a couple of times, only to find them locked in the exact same spot. She was relieved when the waiter arrived with their drinks and drained a quarter of hers with one generous sip. Damien took a much lighter sip of his and placed it on the table, smacking his lips against his teeth as he did.

  “Are you ready to order, sir?” The waiter asked.

  “Yes. I’ll have my usual.” He handed the menu to the waiter.

  “And I’ll have…” Jennifer scanned the menu and then felt foolish. It wasn’t even in English.

  “She’ll have the Tourte au Poulet” Damien said with a smile. He sounded like he was born speaking French.

  “Absolutely, as you wish, sir.” The waiter bowed slightly and took her menu.

  Jennifer sipped her wine again, nervously looking at Damien. He never took his eyes off her, almost staring a hole straight through her. She began to blush, finally unable to contain her curiosity.

  “So, what did you order me?” She asked, trying to break the stare into dialog.

  “I got you a chicken pot pie. It’s to die for.” He smiled.

  “Oh!” Jennifer smiled. “I love those. I had no idea you could get one at a restaurant like this…”

  “You brought one for lunch one day, I figured you liked them.” He sipped his Scotch again.

  Jennifer was floored by that statement. She had hardly seen him between the time she was hired and the moment she was fired. Apparently, he had seen her though. She nervously ran her fingers along the edge of her glass as she nodded, confirming that she was a fan of them.

  “So, what did you want to talk to me about? What kind of opportunity do you have to offer me?” She couldn’t hold back any longer, it had been burning in her mind since he said it.

  “I have a theory.” He tilted his head and placed his glass on the table.

  “You have a theory? Okay.” Jennifer was intrigued.

  “I don’t think you ever grew up.” He placed his hands on the table. “Obviously, you did mature and time rolled on for you, but mentally, you’re still the little girl who misses her father.”

  Jennifer blinked several times and her mouth formed a confused expression. She took another drink of wine as she studied his words and considered what he said.

  “I’m not sure I follow.” She said finally.

  “It’s confusing, I know, and it is probably going to get more confusing, but that is my theory.” He picked up his glass and raised his eyebrows at her. “Am I right?”

  “Maybe? I don’t know?” Jennifer shook her head. It was hard to argue with a billionaire.

  “As you know, I’m a man with a lot of resources.” He sipped his drink again as he spoke.

  “There’s no denying that.” She stifled a mild laugh. The alcohol was making her loosen up a little bit, and the idea of eating dinner with one of the richest, most powerful men in the world was fading from shock to reality.

  “I’m also a man with needs, special needs you might say.” She felt like he was trying to gauge her reaction, waiting to see if he should continue or drop the subject.

  “Like…” Jennifer tilted her head. “Sexual needs?”

  She couldn’t deny he was the sexiest man she had ever been on a date with—if it was a date. She could see herself spending a night with him if that was what he was after. A lot of women would kill to be sitting in her seat, a
nd would have already been naked on his lap before drinks arrived.

  “Not specifically, no.” The tone of his words practically slammed the door on her fantasy.

  “Oh. Okay, what do you mean?” She was even more intrigued, but she couldn’t deny being a little disappointed.

  “I have a need to nurture and develop; it is part of what made my business great. I have patience to see things through to the end. As I’ve gotten older, it has grown stronger, but it has turned into a need to nurture and develop people.” Before he could continue, he was interrupted by the waiter, who brought them two new drinks without asking and promised them their meal within the next ten minutes.

  “To develop people?” She asked as soon as the waiter was out of earshot and she had a fresh glass of wine pressed to her lips.

  “To help them grow up.” He said finally.

  “And you think I need to grow up?” She took a larger sip than expected as her nerves returned.

  If anyone else said those words to her, she would have been angry, but she had a hard time finding any anger she could direct at Damien.

  “It won’t be something that happens overnight, but I believe you are still a little girl who misses her father. I’d like to give you an opportunity to find the strength you’re missing, and get a chance to reclaim the childhood you lost.” His new drink was quickly at the halfway point. Jennifer felt like has trying to hide something beneath his words, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  “Do you have a time machine? Wait, is that why nobody can go in the basement?” Her eyebrows rose. The idea was ludicrous, but he was a very wealthy man. If anyone could have one, it would be him.

  “No.” Damien laughed and shook his head. His laugh was as mesmerizing as his eyes. “It isn’t that simple, I’m afraid. I’ve laid it out for you the best that I can. If you want to know more, then come back to my place with me.”

  Jennifer was floored. It took her a moment to mentally pick her jaw up off the floor and find words. “I thought you said this wasn’t about sex.”

  “It isn’t, but I think everything would make more sense if I just showed you.” He stopped talking as the food arrived.

  It was the best chicken pot pie Jennifer had ever tasted, even if it did have a funny name. They made small talk throughout the meal. Any time she tried to shift the conversation back to what he had referenced earlier, he stopped her, and said they would discuss it later if she was willing. Once the third glass of wine was flowing through her veins, she was more than willing. She couldn’t imagine anyone turning down the opportunity to see how the billionaire lived—especially if there was a chance they would be waking up next to him the next morning.

  When the meal was done, he paid the check and took her outside where a limousine was waiting. She badly needed a cigarette, but she suppressed the gnawing need playing havoc with her nerves. She calmed her craving and climbed into the back of the limousine with him. They sat side by side, but he never made a move towards her. Part of her hoped he would, that this would just be some elaborate scheme to get in her panties. He didn’t need it since she was more than willing to give herself to Damien.

  CHAPTER 4: SURREAL

  When the limousine pulled up outside Damien’s estate, she was quite shocked that it wasn’t a sprawling mansion. It had a lot of acreage, but the house itself wasn’t that big. For a single man, it was enormous, but she imagined something along the lines of a Victorian era palace or even a castle hidden behind his large iron gate. The driver opened the door and Damien exited first, offering his hand to Jennifer. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a dose of chivalry. It felt nice. He led the way to his front door and the limousine disappeared out of sight.

  From the outside, the house looked cold and dark. It was painted white with red trim, but there was a shocking lack of light except for the one hanging over the door. It became apparent that Damien lived alone, and he didn’t keep any staff on hand. Even the limousine driver didn’t appear to live on the grounds. All the rich and famous shows she saw on television displayed exorbitant wealth hand in hand with maids, butlers, and other various staff at their beck and call.

  Inside, the wealth showed. She recognized a few of the paintings from magazines, and she knew the style well enough to know some of the names: Van Gogh, Renoir, and Monet. There were plenty she didn’t recognize. More Aphrodite statues adorned the interior. He led her to a sitting area that appeared to be devoid of most things. To the naked eye, it looked bare, but he hit a button and a full bar rose from the floor. He poured them both another round, handing Jennifer a glass of red wine. She took it nervously and he led her to the couch. She was disappointed when he didn’t sit down next to her

  Damien lit a cigar and sat down across from her on a chair, crossing his legs. As the smoke drifted towards her nose, she wished had brought her cigarettes after all. She normally hated the smell of cigar smoke, but his had a sweet odor. She figured they were probably Cuban, it would be odd for him to smoke anything less than the absolute best. He caught her following the gaze of his burning tip.

  “Did you want one?” He asked as he blew out a stream of smoke.

  “No, I don’t smoke cigars.” She cracked a smile of her own.

  “Oh, that’s right, you smoke cigarettes. That’s a nasty habit.” He shook his head.

  “I do have some though; if it’ll help you calm down and quit beating your foot into my rug like it owes you money.” He hit a button on his table; one she didn’t even realize was a button.

  The table opened and she saw a pack of Marlboro Lights. She couldn’t believe he had her brand. It was the only brand he had. She tore open the pack, thanking him profusely as she struggled to get one out. She didn’t even realize her foot was twitching, it was a nervous habit. Once she had the cigarette in her mouth, he leaned over and lit it for her with a match. She took the first inhale, which still had the lingering taste of the match fumes and exhaled. She couldn’t remember a cigarette ever tasting so good. It instantly calmed her nerves.

  “So...” She said now that there was a calmness radiating from her. “You wanted to show me something?”

  “In a few minutes, but first I want to talk to you some more.” He tilted his head and tapped ashes from the tip of his cigar into a large glass ashtray in middle of the table.

  “Okay.” She said, taking another drag from her cigarette.

  “Tell me about the day your father died.” He said, watching her expression.

  “Well.” She closed her eyes. She hated to think about it. “It was a Saturday morning. I had gotten up extra early because I was excited to see him, but also a bit nervous.”

  “Why were you nervous?” He asked.

  “My report came the day before, and I got an F in math. Gosh, it seems so silly now. I was afraid he would give me a spanking.” Jennifer brought her finger to her eye to stop a tear, and then took another drag from her cigarette.

  “Go on.” Damien uncrossed his legs and sipped his drink.

  “I was waiting in my room, and when there was a knock at the door, I thought it was strange. He always came in happy and yelling ‘Honey, I’m home’ like the television dads, but with his own comical spin on it. Instead of that, I heard screaming and crying. A police officer told my mother what happened. He had a heart attack on his flight home and they didn’t have a doctor on board who could save him.” Jennifer couldn’t say anymore. She put her head down and fought to suppress the tears.

  “So that is when it all ended for you, when you froze in time.” He lifted his cigar and the end glowed.

  “I guess.” Jennifer’s fingers fumbled with the pack for a second cigarette as soon as she extinguished the first.

  “Come with me.” Damien stood and offered her his hand.

  Jennifer put the cigarettes down and followed him after he helped her off the couch. He led her down a hallway to a door that was closed. There was an outline of letters that had been on the door recently, but the
y had been removed. She could tell there was an outline of an S, but nothing more. She became nervous. If it wasn’t Damien, she would probably be worried that she was about to get a one-way ticket to rape and sodomy, but she felt safe with him. She hoped it wasn’t misplaced.

  Damien opened the door to the room and only the end of his cigar lit up the room at first. Jennifer could see what appeared to be toys. He flipped on the light and it took her a moment to comprehend what she was looking at. The room was a child’s room, filled with all the things a wealthy little girl would have. There was a pretty pink bed in the center of the room, which looked strange to Jennifer, because it was large enough for an adult. There were picture frames on the wall, but no pictures. Some of the frames even had edges of color still embedded in the side where the photo had been cut out.

  “I didn’t realize you had children.” Jennifer said, looking around the room.

  “I don’t.” Damien took a step in and held out his hand for her.

  “Then what is this? She took his hand and apprehensively stepped into the room.

  “It’s a place to start over. Sever your ties with the life you’ve failed to live and go back to the moment you lost it all. Become that excited, scared little girl waiting on her father to come home. I will heal that pain.” Damien said it as if it was completely normal.

  Jennifer considered his words. She thought she was beginning to get the picture. What he said about needing to nurture and develop—the room—it kind of made sense. She surmised it must be a kind of strange fetish he had, which would explain why he never dated, at least not openly. She walked around the room looking at the photos which had been removed, and spotted seared carpet on the floor. She knew that she wasn’t the first woman to be in this room. It was made for someone else.

  “What happened to the last woman who was here?” She asked nervously.