Bonds of Attraction - Part 1 (An Erotic Romance Serial Novel)

by Alana Davis

  “Yes, no problemo. I’m positive it’ll go well.”

  “Ok, Stills. Tell me about your friend.”

  “His name is Leon Christensen,” Stills began. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t put a name to the face. “He owns a chain of clubs. I’m the manager of them, and me and him go way back. Leon comes from old money, but you know, I wasn’t nearly as lucky. But Leon is the best guy I know, and that’s why I need you. Leon’s been in and out of relationships so quickly that it’s almost as if he’s sabotaging himself. If you could help him figure out what he’s doing wrong and find him the perfect match, that would be a huge help.”

  I considered it for a moment. It wouldn’t have been the first time I took on a case that took a little bit of attitude adjustment on the client’s part.

  “Come down to The Nova, it’s Leon’s Beverly Hills club. Can you meet him there tonight, maybe around six or so, before we open for the public?”

  I scanned the calendar on my computer and saw that I was free. “Yes, that’ll work for me. I’ll be there at six on the dot. At seven, I leave. I will let you know when I leave whether I take his case or not.”

  “Perfect!” Leon said.

  I transferred him to April and she took his deposit. It was an easy assignment, and if it worked out, I would have another client. If it didn’t work out, I would have a significant paycheck for doing relatively little work. While I was always a little annoyed by the rich and fabulous and their proclivity to not accept rules, it always worked out in my bank account’s favor.

  The day passed quickly and I left the office before April to go home and get ready. I was neither excited nor apprehensive. It was just another contract that was waiting to be signed or not signed.

  I pulled up to the club at ten to six and a man, who I assumed was Stills, was waiting outside, talking with a bouncer. He spotted my car and flagged an employee over. I pulled over to the curb in front of the club and got out of my car. The guy Stills had flagged over smiled and bowed slightly to me before getting in my car to park it.

  The club was impressive. Even from the outside, the building was very elegant. The sign out front was neither tacky nor was it covered with fluorescent lights which screamed that a rave was going on inside.

  I looked at Stills. He was much younger than I expected. His hair was the whitest blond that I had ever seen on a man. Bulging muscles stretched his expensive suit skin-tight. When he shook my hand, his hand was rough and his fingers were as thick as sausages. His grip was firm, but he didn’t crush my hand with his shake. When he smiled, his face lit up with a friendly warmth that made him look like a young teenager.

  “Thank you for coming, Miss Facet,” Still said genuinely. He smiled a wide smile that spread from ear to ear. I noticed that his neck was a tree trunk atop his shoulders.

  “You’re welcome, shall we go inside and meet with Mr. Christensen?”

  Stills led me inside. It was just as nice inside as it was outside. The club was practically empty. There were no customers, only staff preparing for the night ahead. The tables were all arranged neatly and the bar was clean and stylish. It was an upscale club. I admired the decor and sat down at a table that Stills lead me to, pulling out a chair for me. I had to admit that I liked this club; I could have even seen myself coming here and enjoying myself.

  Stills ran off to get me a gin martini, extra dirty. When I looked over the bar, I noticed that Stills was behind the bar, personally making my drink. I smiled.

  “Well, hello,” a voice said. “You’re a little early. We’re not open yet. But for you, I suppose I can make an exception.”

  I looked up at the man. He must be Leon Christensen. I was immediately stricken with the thought that this man was much better looking than I had imagined him in my head. His features were sharp, his jaw chiseled and masculine. His cocoa colored hair hung just above his eyes and ears, appearing as though it was haphazardly styled, but with I recognized that it was just too perfectly sloppy. His sapphire eyes studied me, waiting for my response.

  I stood up to shake his hand and I realized that Leon Christensen towered over me. He was lean, but when he took my hand, I could feel the firm grip that told me that lean muscles stretched over his body. His smile was wide and showed a set of perfect teeth, but it was a smile that was also too perfect, as though he had rehearsed it. It was a movie-star smile. A publicity photo smile. It was a fake smile.

  “You must be Leon Christensen,” I said.

  He lifted my hand and kissed it gently, eyeing me as he did so.

  “And you must be my company for tonight,” he said flirtatiously.

  I took my hand back politely, suppressing the strong desire to roll my eyes at him. I was a professional, and I merely gave him a professional smile. I knew how to deal with flirtatious men without coming off as cold or belittling; it came with the territory. Yet I looked at Leon Christensen a little longer than I had ever looked at any other client.

  If only we had met in the gym last night, I thought quickly. I pushed it out of my mind and regained my composure.

  “Please, Mr. Christensen, let’s have a seat and get started with your profile,” I said.

  Leon Christensen gave me a puzzled look. He raised a hand to his chin and studied me as though he were Sherlock Holmes and this was a murder mystery. I imagined a tobacco pipe in his other hand and I had to stifle the urge to laugh out loud.

  “What do you mean, profile? is this for some kind of news article or some kind of blog?”

  Stills returned and handed me the gin martini. I thanked him politely and he averted his gaze. I could see how uncomfortable he was standing there and I turned back to Leon Christensen. It was clear that Stills had not informed Leon that he had hired me for my services.

  “I’m Julie Facet,” I said. “I run Facet Matchmaking Services. Your friend, Stills, has hired me to provide my services to you. The first stage of that is to get a complete profile of you.”

  Leon Christensen crossed his arms and leaned back on his leg, studying me with a look of increasing annoyance. I could see the anger grow in his face and soon a line cut across his forehead and pushed his eyebrows down.

  “I have no problem finding women for my bed, Miss Facet,” Leon Christensen said, his voice growing harsh on my name. “So I don’t need the services of a madam.”

  I felt anger well up inside of me. I’d been insulted before in this business, but at no point had anybody ever insinuated that I ran a prostitution service.

  “I run a matchmaking service, Mr. Christensen. I find other clients who have hired me to pair them with—” I began indignantly. Leon Christensen turned and started walking away, waving his arm dismissively.

  “Whatever, I don’t need you. You can let yourself out or hang around until we open. I don’t care,” Leon said, his voice trailing off as he walked up a staircase to an office that overlooked the club.

  I took a large drink of my martini. It was a perfectly made martini and it went down smoothly. I put it down on a table and turned around to see Stills looking at me, his face bright red with embarrassment.

  “Miss Facet, I’m so sorry, I really—”

  “Thank you for the drink, Stills. And thank you for wasting my time.”

  I walked out. The valet quickly returned my car to me and I tipped him well.

  “Your boss is a true asshole, kid.”

  Chapter Three

  The next day, I sat in my office and sorted through a file for a wealthy client. My office door was closed. I had told April to put on her music again, but I wasn’t in the mood to listen to anything so I barricaded myself in my office. I told April no calls were to be transferred to me. No exceptions.

  The client I was working on was an heir to a hotel chain fortune. I read his profile with growing interest as I began to understand that he was actually a nice guy. His luck with women was nonexistent. His fortune attracted bottom feeders and gold diggers. Yet he wasn’t looking for just a good tim
e.

  I really just want a woman who I can spend my free time with and feel like I’m hanging out with my best friend.

  I continued to read more quotes that I had transcribed, remembering just how sincere he had been. There had been a sadness to everything he said, as though he were so jaded that I was his last resort. I was the last vestige of hope for a man’s dying heart.

  I want a partner. I want to be in love and create a whole life with this person. Marriage, family, the works. I don’t want some person who just wants me for my money.

  I liked this client. I found myself really hoping that everything would work out for him. I made a decision then that I was going to make him a special case; there would be no quick fixes or simple algorithmic connection for him. It would have to be explained to him that it was going to take longer than usual, but it would be worth it.

  I looked through two women’s folders that I felt could be a possibility, and after scanning through them carefully, I decided that while they were close, I could do better. Then I heard someone come into the office and my office door opened.

  Stills stood before me. April had followed him in my office, her attempts at preventing him from entering foiled. She was trying to guide him back out of my office, and I could see a look of fear on her face, not fear of Stills, but fear of my reaction.

  “April, it’s alright. I know you tried to keep him out, but this one is persistent,” I said warmly to her, focusing my eyes on Stills.

  “I’m so sorry,” April began explaining.

  “April, why don’t you go grab some lunch, it’s my treat today. Take at least an hour. And when you come back, bring me something, please.”

  April breathed a sigh of relief and thanked me profusely. She looked at Stills with a look of mild anger and then let herself out of my office. I heard the front door open and close. Stills and I were alone. I eyed him carefully.

  “And how may I help you?” I asked, letting the annoyance come through my voice.

  “I’m sorry to barge in here like this, really, but your secretary told me you weren’t taking any calls and I needed to see you. I needed to apologize to you again about last night,” Stills said. He sounded genuine, and his eyes looked pleadingly at me for my acceptance of his apology.

  “Well, you paid me to meet you there last night. It only took a half hour of my time, even with the commute, so I suppose I don’t have much to complain about.”

  “I know that Leon was really rude to you, and it wasn’t sitting right with me,” Stills said. He paused and turned around to look at April’s empty desk. “Hey, is your secretary single? She’s real cute.”

  “Consider your apology accepted, Stills. I can’t imagine you barged in here so brazenly just to apologize and find out if my secretary is available for a date.”

  “Uh, no. Not exactly. Look, I wanted to just tell you a little bit about Leon. He’s not the guy that you talked to last night. I mean, sure, of course you talked to the guy last night, but I kinda messed things up with not telling him and trying to maneuver this whole thing.

  “When I was sixteen, Leon saved my life. A bookie took a baseball bat and knocked the living shit out of me. I mean, I know I’m not a small guy right now, but when I was sixteen I was like six inches shorter and a hundred pounds lighter. I was a little kid who didn’t stand a chance against a wise guy with a bat and a bad attitude. It wasn’t even close to a fair fight. The bookie was sending a message to my dad,” Stills said. His voice lowered when he said the part about his dad, as if he was ashamed.

  “Anyway, Leon found me. He brought me to the hospital, got me cleaned up, and took me home. He gave me and my pops a safe place to stay and even gave me a job. The guy cleared my dad’s debts and even got the old man a job. I mean, the old man screwed that up eventually, but still, he saved our lives man. That bookie took a bat to a sixteen year old kid to send a message to an old man, who knows what would have happened next.”

  I listened to the story, amazed at Stills’s sincerity. As he told me his tale, it was as though the sixteen-year old Stills was in front of me, holding his hat and pleading a case for a friend. I felt my heart warm slightly towards Leon. He had still been an asshole to me the previous night, but there was obviously something deep inside a guy who had saved a random kid from a brutal fate.

  “He’s that kind of guy. The kind of guy who would save some deadbeat and his kid who he didn’t even know. I owe the guy everything,” Still said, pausing. “Look, he needs a good woman. I’m worried about him and you’re the best. I’ve already done all the research. Just meet him one more time.”

  I paused and considered this. Leon Christensen was already a problem case of the worst kind. Yet while it seemed impossible, I couldn’t help my desire to take it on. If I could fix up this client, then I really was the best. I could prove to myself just how successful and competent I was at selling fantasies. What was better than selling a fantasy to a nonbeliever?

  “People say it’s impossible for that guy to love, but I don’t believe that. My friend deserves love.”

  “I’ll meet with him one more time,” I said. “On one condition.”

  “Of course, you name it.”

  “Leon has to be aware of our meeting and he has to agree to it. If he agrees to meet with me and is capable of being professional, I’ll agree to the meeting. You get him to call my secretary and set up a meeting.”

  Stills assured me he would have everything taken care of. He let himself out quietly, thanking me as he left. I sat back down at my desk and returned to the hotel chain heir’s folder.

  ~~~

  A few days passed before Leon called the office. When April asked me if I would be available to meet with him the following night, I was mildly surprised. While I had thought of Stills and Leon a few times since Stills had barged into my office, I hadn’t expected Leon to actually call and set up our meeting.

  I was to meet him at another club of his, The Poisoned Lily, at ten the following night. I marked it in my calendar. I thought about meeting Leon Christensen again and I wondered idly just how it would go. Well, it couldn’t be much worse than our first meeting.

  The night of our meeting came. I dressed myself in a black business suit that made me look both professional and sexy. If this meeting with Leon Christensen didn’t go well, I could at least salvage the night and maybe enjoy myself at an upscale lounge where I might meet a nice gentleman. I was not in the habit of going to bars to pick up men, but I felt like having some company for the night and I didn’t want to make picking up guys at the gym a regular thing.

  I pulled up to The Poisoned Lily. It wasn’t a club that I was familiar with, but I could tell that it looked like an upscale club. I wasn’t surprised. Christensen’s other club had been elegant and classy, there was no reason to suspect that this was a fluke. Also, Leon Christensen came from old money. Old money did not translate to tacky establishments.

  I pulled up to the valet and stepped out of my car. There were groups of people standing outside, enjoying the warmth of the night as they smoked cigarettes and talked to each other. I handed my keys to the young man with dark bags under his eyes as if he had stayed up all night playing video games, and surveyed the crowd. As I approached the club, my intentions to go inside were very clear to anybody paying attention, and I noticed that many of the groups seemed to be giving me looks that I couldn’t decipher. A pang of uneasiness struck me and I felt like I was on a stage in my underwear giving a speech to an auditorium of silent, judging faces.

  I adjusted my suit coat slightly, becoming ever more aware of my attire. Had I dressed just a tad too provocative? No, that was impossible. While my business suit was form fitting and showed off my curves, there would be no way that anyone would even think it made me look slutty. The groups of people all wore long coats and jackets that covered them down to their knees. Maybe I was getting odd looks because I wasn’t following the dress code on mandatory trench coat night.

  I walked
through a cloud of cigarette smoke that was hanging around the entrance and pushed my way inside past a group of people who barely acknowledged my existence. My eyes took a second to adjust to the darkness of the club after standing outside by the floodlights that illuminated the street. When my eyes adjusted, shock stabbed my heart.

  It was a cataclysm of lights and people. Bodies moved in and out of each other through the dance floor. There was a heartbeat thumping through the sound system that vibrated through every fiber of my bones, rattling my chest. A man clad in a leather thong and a dog collar walked by me, no, he was walked by me, lead by a woman who wore an entire suit of leather and a hat that looked like she could have been a general in the dominatrix army. My mouth hung ajar.

  A woman walked by in nothing more than a thong and nipple tassels. She carried a whip that dragged on the floor behind her. When she passed, she licked her lips as she looked me up and down. I saw that her ass cheeks were bright red before she disappeared into the crowd.