by Nicole Fox
“Oh, and I forgot to tell you about the girls on his arms,” said Russell. “The blonde in the yellow dress is a Nobel laureate in literature, and the brunette with half of her tits hanging out is a visiting molecular biologist at Columbia.”
“Jeez,” I said, “even the women ar—“”
Russell’s smart-ass smile tipped me off before I could go too far.
“Oh,” I said. “Ha ha.”
“Trust me,” he said, “these girls aren’t here for their brains; they’re here for … the other things they bring to the table.”
I could only imagine what those things might be.
“But don’t get me wrong,” he said. “Remember what I said about geishas? These girls aren’t just here for their … ah, bedroom skills; they’re skilled conversationalists and pleasant company. Plenty of these guys are married to overbearing housefraus or bratty trophy wives; while they enjoy a glass of very, very expensive wine, just having a pretty girl to provide some good conversation is all the female companionship most of them are really looking for. And that’s why I think you’ll be a natural fit for this: you’re bringing more than just your good looks.”
“But what if I’m not a good conversationalist?” I asked, feeling a little warmed by his compliment. “What do I even say to these guys?”
“You know the first rule of good conversation? Just let the other person talk about themselves.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yep,” said Russell. “Most people are just waiting for their turn to talk in conversations anyway. Cut right to the chase and let them yak on about whatever they want; they’ll walk away thinking ‘my, what an interesting person that young lady was’.”
I smirked, taking a little pleasure at Russell’s take on things.
“Trust me,” he said. “You’re going to charm these guys like they’ve never been charmed before.”
He stepped forward, closer to the party. But just as I began to follow him, I felt his hand grasp my upper arm and squeeze it in a way that sent my heart racing.
“But remember one thing above all others,” he said in a low purr into my ear. “You belong to me.”
I took in a sharp breath, my skin turning to gooseflesh and an excited shiver running up my spine. I couldn’t believe the hold that Russell had on me.
With that, we walked into the party. Eyes flicked to both of us as we strode further into the crowd, many of the men’s eyes lingering on my body in a way that left me unsure of how to feel. Russell took a pair of champagne flutes from the passing tray of a server and handed one to me. I took a sip, my eyes lighting up as I let the delicious bubbling wine dance on my palate.
Eventually, a stocky man in a tight-fitting tux approached us. He was bald as could be, and his face was fleshy, almost giving him the appearance of a big baby. The sides of his mouth pulled up into an odd smile as he laid eyes on the two of us.
“Russell Carrick,” he said in a posh British accent as he extended his hand toward Russell.
“Alexander York,” said Russell, taking his hand and giving it a solid shake.
“Please,” said the man, his eyes flicking over to me as he spoke. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me ‘Alex’?”
“Just this last one,” said Russell with a sly smile.
“And who is this lovely little specimen?” he asked, turning his full attention to me.
“This is Alyssa Culverton,” he said. “My companion for the evening.”
“‘Culverton’,” he said, looking away thoughtfully as he let the name hang in the air. “A fine Anglo name. Is your family from the UK, by any chance?”
“Um, I don’t know,” I said, the words tumbling out. “I think I’m some kind of mutt. German, English, maybe some Swedish. Um, don’t really know.”
Alex expression sank a little, as though he’d been expecting a more exciting answer than that. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Russell flash me a look, one that seemed to say “come on; you can do better than that.”
Alex turned his attention back to Russell.
“Now, I know talking shop is a little passé at Sandor’s soirees, but I can’t help but notice how far up you’ve come in our little industry. More and more I’ve been hearing your name on the lips of some very important people.”
“Pleased to hear that,” said Russell. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope to one day be counted among the esteemed businessmen here.”
“And if you keep this up, you certainly will. You’re a frightfully intelligent and ambitious young man; low-level deals with the plebes is hardly where someone like you ought to be.”
“That’s very kind of you to say, Alex,” said Russell.
Then a curious expression crossed Russell’s handsome face, one that seemed to suggest he’d just remembered something that he needed to attend to right at this moment.
“Alex, you’ll have to excuse me; I just remembered that I promised a client an update on a shipment for tomorrow.”
“Ah, yes,” said Alex. “Duty calls. Don’t let me keep you.”
“But I’m very curious to hear what you’ve been up to these last weeks,” said Russell. “How about my lovely companion here keeps you company until I make this quick call?”
Alex’s eyes went over my body once again.
“I do believe that’s more than fair,” he said, that same odd smile returning to his face.
“Excellent,” said Russell. “I’ll be back in a brief moment.”
With that, he turned to leave, but not before flashing me an expression that seemed to say that it was my time to shine. Anxiety twisted my stomach into a hot, tight knot.
“So, Alyssa,” said Alex. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I said a word, what Russell had said came to mind.
Just ask them about themselves.
I took a deep breath.
“Me?” I asked, letting a sensual smile form on my face. “There’s really not much to say. I’m more curious to hear about how a man like you ended up here in the city.”
“Ah,” said Alex. “Well, that’s quite a story. But I needn’t talk your ear off about something like that.”
“No,” I said, placing my hand on his arm and giving it a little squeeze. “I insist.”
His face turned a light shade of red at my touch, and I felt the tension loosen in his body. He was more than okay with what I was doing.
“Oh, very well, then,” he started. “You see, I was born in a small town in northern England, a little place called …”
And off he went. Over the course of the next fifteen minutes or so, Alex summarized his life story. When he was done, me nodding and smiling along all the while, he moved onto current matters, giving me his in-depth opinion about certain issues in the New York arms trading business. They were people whom I’d never heard of and it was business minutia that I knew nothing about, but I kept in mind what Russell had told me about listening in for details.
Russell was right on the money; all it took was me being a wide-eyed, attentive listener, giving him a smile and a touch here and there. It was almost too easy.
“… and that’s why, if you ask me, Sasha needs to be a little more persistent when doing his purchasing in LA next month. I keep telling him that there’s no room for the soft-hearted in this business, you know? But young men like him, well, they always seem to think they know better than those who’ve long ago dealt with the same issues with which they’re currently grappling. But they’ll learn. One way or another.”
Before I could say another word, Russell appeared at my side.
“Sorry again about that,” he said.
Alex swiped his hand through the air.
“Think nothing of it,” he said. “Alyssa here has been a more than charming conversation partner. And such an interesting young woman! I must ask, Russell—where did you find such a lovely thing?”
Russell chuckled softly. “I
can’t give away all my secrets.”
Then he flashed me a knowing look that I couldn’t help but smile at.
“Ah, damn,” said Alex, looking over our shoulders at someone in the distance. “There’s Leonardo Bianchi, that smarmy Italian little shit; I’ve been meaning to speak with him for months. You’ll have to excuse me.”
“Think nothing of it,” said Russell. “It was a pleasure seeing you, Alex.”
“Oh, Mr. Carrick,” said Alex, turning his attention to me once again. “I assure you that the pleasure was more than all mine.”
With that, he headed off behind us.
“Looks like you made quite the impression,” said Russell, watching Alex leave.
“I think so,” I said. “I mean, it really was a matter of just doing what you said. I just let him talk, and now he thinks I’m the most interesting woman that he’s ever met.”
“That’s the way it is with a lot of these guys; they just want someone to listen to them yak on about whatever they have on their mind. I guess men and women aren’t so different after all.”
Then he flashed me a killer smile. I gave him a joking jab to the arm.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “And he told me a bunch of things that you might want to hear.”
“Oh?” asked Russell.
I filled him in on the various business dealings that Alex had mentioned in passing.
“That’s all … really interesting.”
“Why?” I asked, curious.
“Because I was chatting with a few other men out on the patio, and they both mentioned LA, too.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that a lot of business seems to be taking place on the West Coast. New York is usually a hot spot for arms deals, but the heat’s been coming down on in these last few months. When that happens, business tends to shift to another city until things calm down. If what Alex said is true, then it looks like LA might be where the action’s going to be for the time being.”
“Interesting,” I said.
“Well, that’s something to think about later,” said Russell. “For the time being, I want us both to make the rounds separately. I’m going to go shake hands here and there, and I want you to do the thing that you seem to have a natural affinity for.”
“Oh please,” I said. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I think Alex might argue with you on that front.”
I could help but chuckle as I looked across the room at Alex, who seemed to be stealing glances at me as he chatted.
“Okay, fine,” I said. “I’ll make the rounds.”
Russell looked me up and down once again.
“Just don’t forget the rule.”
“I won’t.”
“I know you won’t. But just to make me feel better, I want you to say it.”
“I’m … your property.”
“Good girl.”
And with that he was off, leaving me alone with the strange, hot feeling that ran through my body as I confirmed that I was his, and his alone. Turning my attention to the crowd of partygoers, I finished my glass of bubbly and fetched another. The wine was delicious, but I knew that there was some subtlety to the work that Russell wanted me to do. Getting too tipsy probably wasn’t the best idea.
I moved through the party, putting a little slinkiness to my step. I felt a little shy and awkward at first, but the more eyes that fell on me as I moved through the crowds, the more at ease I became. It was strange to admit, but I was sort of loving the attention.
Eventually, I found a tall, well-dressed man standing at the long table covered with food. He was plopping item after item onto his plate, and—most importantly—unaccompanied. I decided that he’d make an excellent test run for my new skill as an urban geisha.
Sauntering up to his side, I deftly took the toothpick of food from his hand and, looking deep into his watery gray eyes, placed the food in my mouth and dragged the toothpick out, letting the thing move sensually over my lips.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was just starving.”
The man was stupefied for a long moment, his jaw hanging slack. Once he regained his composure, I put him through the same paces as Alex—a little flirting, some light conversation, and of course, a close ear out for anything that could help Russell in future dealings.
Once I ended the conversation I began to feel … incredible. It was like I was playing with a new toy or something; I couldn’t believe the effect I was having on these men.
I didn’t waste any time moving on. Over the course of the next hour or two, I fluttered like the little social butterfly I was from man to man, doing my little act and taking mental notes. And with each man, I felt a little more at ease, a little sexier in my own skin. Once I’d run through a few guys, I’d track down Russell and walk arm-in-arm with him through the party, giving him all the details on just what I’d found out.
“You have a talent for this,” he told me during one of our little chats. “And you’ve just been letting it go to waste this whole time.”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, briefly considering just how far apart the life I was leading now was from the bird-in-a-cage life I’d been living with Logan.
“Don’t let me keep you,” said Russell. “You look like you’re on a roll.”
“Indeed I am,” I said with a wink as I headed back into the crowd.
I went from man to man over the next hour or so. And when I’d finished with my latest guy—some gunrunner out of Russia—I decided that a little fresh air was in order. Grabbing a new glass of champagne, I headed out onto the sweeping balcony. As I leaned against the railing and looked out onto Central Park, it dawned on me just how strange this new life of mine was.
“Lovely view, is it not?”
The voice from behind me was deep and buttery-smooth. I turned and was face to face with none other than Sandor Szsavost, the owner of the apartment who Russell had pointed out to me earlier. Up close he was, despite his age, strikingly handsome. Two stunning green eyes were set amid the wrinkles of his face, and his silver hair was thick and sleek. A confident smile played on his lips. And I wasn’t exactly a clothes connoisseur, but standing this close I could see that his tuxedo was exquisitely made.
I also noticed that the two girls who’d been hanging off his arms were gone.
“I decided that a little solitude was in order,” he said, noticing my glance.
“Then I should, um, leave you alone, then?”
The words came out thin and wavering. The poise and confidence that I’d had only a moment ago seemed to have left me; something about Sandor’s presence had a way of making it very clear to whomever he was talking that he was the boss.
“Absolutely not,” he said, approaching me and stopping at my side. “Even if I wished to be alone, I’d be a damn fool to turn down the company of a woman such as yourself.”
“Kind words,” I said, regaining some of my composure.
“And not a single one untrue.”
Sandor turned to the city, taking a slow sip of his drink. His bearing was fascinating; he didn’t seem to care one bit about silence or what he ought to or ought not to be saying or doing. He carried himself in a way that a man who knew he had complete control over any situation might.
“Now,” he said. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out the fact that you’re clearly new to this game.”
“This game?” I asked.
“Well, that’s the manner in which I prefer to look at it,” he said, allowing the slightest hint of a smile to form on the corner of his mouth.
“With what’s at stake in the work you do,” I said, “calling it a ‘game’ seems to be …”
“A bit of an understatement?”
I smiled. “Exactly.”
“Most things are a game, when you really think about it,” he went on. “They have their rules, their strategies, and … ways to tilt things to your advantage.”
Now his steely gray eyes narrowed
slightly.
“I suppose that’s one way to look at things,” I said, turning my body and facing him as I leaned against the railing.
“It’s the only way to look at things.”
He allowed another long moment of silence to hang over us.
“But you know that I’m new to this,” I said.
“Indeed.”
He took another slow sip of his drink.