Fifty Shades of Lies

by Charlize Benett

  It was just Mr. Maximillion and I alone. “Thank you.” I whispered as I sat down.

  “You don’t have to whisper, unless it pleases you. Personally, I would prefer if you speak up.” He requested.

  “Thank you.” I spoke more loudly, obliging him, the Master of the Universe.

  “That’s much better.” He smiled. I gazed steadily into his face. All I could think about was how much of a control freak he came across as—he took a seat in the small chair opposite of me, his legs turned out and one crossed at the knee. Here we go again, his penis would begin to strain, I imagined.

  “By now you are probably thinking I am a control freak.” He clearly read my mind.

  I held my gaze steadily, impassively, but beneath my calm exterior my heartbeat quickened inexplicably and my mouth gaped open. Everything he did rattled me to a degree, this place particularly felt like a dungeon. My eyes scanned the darkness.

  “Seriously, what the hell is going on here? I am really confused.” I blurted out. The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them. My eyes fell to the table.

  “I am not sure what you are referring to,” he said, not a trace of humor donned on his face.

  When I plucked up the courage to look at him, he was watching me intently. One hand was limp and relaxed in his lap. The other cupped his chin, trailing his long index finger across his lips. I think he was trying to suppress a smile.

  “Sorry,” I maundered. “I’m not used to all these over the top sort of things. I am a simple girl.” I flushed. Is he teasing me, and trying to make me feel uncomfortable? I hoped not. I blinked at him, unsure what to say next, and I think he took pity on me because he relented.

  “I understand, but there’s certain steps I must take… I have to know if you can trust me, know matter what it is I ask of you, and more importantly that you will concede to my request?” He rubbed his long fingers against his five o’clock shadow. “Don’t lie to me either, I will know if you do—remember I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “You… but, you told me to become a better liar—” I panted wistfully. Sweetie you were born yesterday. Wait, until you find out my name is Gray-Ana. Guess, he wasn’t such a know it all, as had just claimed. He had no idea I had been lying to him all along.

  “Never lie to me.” He smiled devilishly, “I might have to show you what happens when you lie to me.” A strange expression crept over his face. “I can made or break you… can you deal with all of this—my rules?”

  “Yes, but… I mean, no, questions asked? I mean, can I ask you questions first?” I uttered, straining over my choice of words. Seriously he is joking—I will play along for now, no one is this controlling off the bat. He doesn’t even know me.

  “You can ask questions all you want, just as long as you concede afterwards.” Arrogant bastard.

  I swallowed hard before answering. “Yes I will trust and obey you—this is for the show—right?” I asked nervously biting my bottom lip.

  “Yes and then some,” His upper lip stiffened.

  “Okay then… first I have a few questions for you, Mr. Maximillion.” I sat up straight and smoothed a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

  “I thought you might,” he said deadpan, staring.

  He was purposefully trying to intimidate me. I was now sure of it. My cheeks fired at this realization. His eyes pierced right through to my soul. I sat up and squared my shoulders in an attempt to look taller and more intimidating, as well. I tried to look calm. Meanwhile, my hands were sweating bullets. I chose to play along with his game, a game I had no experience in. I diverted the conversation, in need of gaining some control. I remembered my father saying if you want control of a situation make a few factual statements, then hit them with a question; this will force your opponent to make the next move.

  “You’re very young to have achieved such success. That’s really impressive. The show is getting so much attention. Your ratings are out of this world. To what do you owe your successes?” I glanced up at him feeling as if I just put him in checkmate, for a change. After all I haven’t signed a contract yet, solidifying I would play by his rules.

  “Thanks for doing your homework, I’m impressed with you too.” Damn he is trying to spin this on me.

  I blushed at his compliment. Why did I do that? Where was myself control? I was up half the night Googling everything I could find out about him. Now I am falling apart right before him.

  “Business is all about people, Miss Bleu-Rae, and I’m very good at reading people. I know how they tick—what makes them flourish—what doesn’t—what inspires them, and how to encourage them. If they concede to me, the world is theirs, if not they can move on.” He said with major conviction. His eyes fixed on me, illuminating a gray stare. “I work hard, very hard.” His emphasis was on the word hard. This caused me to reflect on my apparition of seeing him naked. “I have a natural gift—insight—it’s in my jeans—I mean genes—I guess that sounded the same to you—” I stared at him dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about? All the same I just listened. I will think of something to say when he’s done blowing his own horn—“An endowment that’s in my DNA, passed down in my lineage,” he bragged.

  “Maybe you’re just blessed.” My voice was alight with cheerfulness. His demeanor was so arrogant. His eyes flared momentarily in surprise. Yes, I pressed a button in him.

  “I don’t subscribe to the angels, Miss Bleu-Rae. Let’s just say I know things, and leave it at that.” He scorched me with his tone.

  My heartbeat quickened, and my face flushed. I guessed he was done sharing his ideologies with me. Why does he have such an unnerving effect on me? Perhaps, it was his overwhelming gray looks. Or the way his eyes blazed into me.

  “What do you do for fun?” I asked trying to lighten up our conversation.

  “Whatever I want.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips, his torrid expression resolved. Thank God. He burned me with his eyes, staring into me hard-pressed and bypassing even my soul. “Various things.” I felt confounded and heated by his steady gaze… his eyes dazzled with wicked thoughts. “Right now I am interested in knowing more about you.” He winked sinuously.

  I glanced around the room wanting to get off the me subject. I needed to understand him. “There’s not much to know. I do some modeling, I love going to beach. I am crazy about shopping and of course spending time my family. I have a twin sister too.” I paused. Shit, my mouth betrayed me. “I would love to travel around the world.” Good save. Maybe, he didn’t hear the part about my twin sister. “You know to Paris, Africa… all the exotic places in the world. I hope someday—”

  “Did you say a twin sister?” He interrupted. Clearly, acknowledging that he had heard me.

  “Err… I am starving can we eat now?” I whined, changing the change. I pretended to have not heard his question. Surely, he would feed me instead of encouraging me to talk about my sister. That would be rude otherwise.

  “Of course dinner will be right out.” He nodded.

  Maybe, he’s not so bad, arrogant and the devil himself, as rumors had it. My hungry diversion worked. I felt empowered that I got one over on Mr. Details, I know people, I have insight, and it’s in my DNA. I inwardly mocked him, Huh, and who said the devil is in the details?

  Steele held his long thick fingers into the air, snapping them several times. I turned to see who was behind me. Several men appeared out of nowhere, they were dressed in black from head to toe, all but a small red bow tie. They were almost, as sexy as Mr. Maximillion. One brought red wine, two glasses—poured it and placed the bottle on the table before us. The other brought a leafy salad topped with a gorgeous sizzling filet mignon, veggies and breadsticks. I wondered how they had the steak timed in sync with my diversion?

  “Enjoy Miss Bleu-Rae.” He said, and simultaneously nodding to the waiters to leave us.

  “Wow, this looks beautiful.” I gleamed down at the food.

  “Only the best for you.” He raised a
brow, flashing me a sexy crooked smile.

  I felt my face heat crimson. “Allow me to make a toast.” Steele raised his glass, I followed suit. “To a lifetime of nothing, but the best for all eternity.”

  “Wow, I will drink to that.” Our glasses collided at the rims. Tchin-tchin, the sound of fine crystal echoed.

  “I hoped you would,” He boasted. I sipped my wine. My hand shook as I sat glass down. I am sure he noticed.

  “Why are you so nervous, I can hear your heart beating fanatically all the way from over here,” he stared at me appraisingly.

  “Yes, Mr. Maximillion, I am nervous if you must know… you make me this way.” I admitted, speaking in a neutral tone.

  “Please, call me Steele.” He requested, narrowing his bedroom eyes.

  “Okay, Mr. Maximillion.” The corners of his lips turned down. “Steele… I mean.” I sighed inwardly, pushing the greens around on my plate with my fork.

  “You know Bleu-Rae… Some people say I don’t have a heart.”

  “Why would they say that?” I asked, taking a huge bite of the juiciest tomato in the world.

  “They don’t get it, or get me. I have a heart it’s just hidden from most. In the business of love, money and putting it together for others—I have to be a realist. I know what makes people tick.” He reconfirmed. “And, I see things in people others don’t see, not even about themselves—”

  “Such as,” I interrupted him. He hardly let me get a word in, otherwise. One, two, three, action. Another Steele monologue served up. More lessons he wanted to teach me.

  “Such as their weakness, strengths and needs. Some people want the passion, but what they really want is to be admired, or respected, and some don’t want love at all, they just want what money can buy them. Most people, when it comes to choosing a partner, are blinded. That’s where I come in. I will not allow couples, contestants… like yourself, to get together with someone for the wrong reasons. That is not going to happen on my show. I pair them for success. If a man wants a trophy wife, or a beautiful woman and she wants true love—for get about it—they will not make it on my show. I don’t care how much they think they like each-other.”

  “Why?” I whined like a school girl.

  “It’s simple, they aren’t suited for each-other… her looks will fade and he will trade her in for a prettier model someday. People just don’t know how to face the truth, they lose their perception.” He said with conviction.

  “But you want people to lie about what they truly want.” I winced, hoping I didn’t send him on a downward spiral.

  “Ah, yes that’s for ratings—but in the end people need to be paired up—the lies they tell in the beginning will eventually surface. That’s where I come in—to patch things up after the drama ceases.”

  I listened as Steele spoke… His voice soothed me, I felt like melting in his presence. I liked that he was a confident man, and quite haughty too, it was so charming in a controlling way. He was simply irresistible to me.

  “Wow, sounds like a game of chess, or something, like that.” I said poignantly.

  “Yes, and I am the component they all have to beat.” His eyes pierced me, the color transcended from grey to black. He took his job very seriously.

  “So what is it that you think I want…?” I gleamed teasingly, testing him.

  “Oh Bleu-Rae, are you really prepared to test me—” I nodded, batting my eyelashes with a shit eating grin smeared over my face—“You want me… you did from the first time you laid eyes on me,” he gloated without any regard. “I could feel the lust flowing through your body.”

  “What?” I asked, with a massive degree of shock in my voice.

  “Let’s not play games…” He glowered. I felt my mouth gape open.

  “Games, isn’t that what you do?” I retorted, piercingly. “Your entire life, and your success are based on games. Your show is a glorified game show… isn’t it?” I asked, challengingly. I regretted pointing this out, when I said it. My filter sure needed some tuning up, or perhaps a big dose of meds to keep me in line, doing me justice.

  He furtively beamed at me, his face blazed with heat. Steele shifted his weight in the chair. I definitely got him hot under the collar.

  “Bingo… you got me Miss Bleu-Rae—” Ouch. He went back to the formal Miss salutation. Not, a good sign— “My life is private, not all business. It has nothing to do with how I make money. Do you understand this?” His voice was stern, very stern. I recognized he was trying to put me in my place.

  “I do,” I jutted. “I model for a part-time living, but it’s not who I am… a coat hanger for people to admire clothes on, seriously are you kidding me… I have bigger plans for my life,” I swaggered with great conviction.

  “That’s what I want to hear… well said.” He buzzed. “You’re a smart cookie. What we do for money doesn’t always depict who we are. Glad we are on the same page,” his lip curled in a wryly smile.

  How did he turn this around on me? Now he was complementing me. Still, he didn’t give me an answer. He was good at spinning things around.

  “I am sorry Mr. Maximillion, my intention wasn’t to put you in a hot seat, it was just, well, you’re so damn confident and when you said that I wanted you from the first time—”

  He reached over and placed his hand over mine, a jolt of energy channeled through my veins. I tried to pull back, but would not dare. “Hey slim no need to apologize. Never edit yourself on my account. I admire your tenacity by saying what you feel,” he continued, his voice softened, and turned mesmerizing. “Even though, what I said is based on the truth and facts.”

  I cocked my head and placed my fork down. I was no longer in the mood to eat.

  “Truth… what truth?” I swallowed hard… feeling more regrets streaming through my body. I wished I never opened my mouth by challenging him.

  “The truth about who you are…”—Oh God, he knows I am not Rae—“Of course I know who you are… I wasn’t born yesterday, as a matter of fact, I was born over fifty-thousand years ago.”

  “What? You were what?” I felt my face turn pallid.

  “Oh my dear sweet doll, you look like you just seen a ghost,” He laughed, from the belly, out loud. “I am joking with you… do I really look fifty-thousand years old?”

  “That’s not funny.” A nervous whimper escaped from my lips. I tried to gain my compousure. Think quick before he takes all your power away. “Actually, Steele, I thought you were only… gosh… fifty years old.” I smirked.

  “Cute.” He pointed his finger at me, as if to scold a child. “Are you done eating? I don’t want you to get too fat. You know the camera adds a few pounds.” His eyed me up and down.

  Holy fuck. God, you are a sensitive baby, aren’t you? How dare you talk about my weight, you fucking grizzly bear. I cursed him inwardly. Is this guy for real? I guessed he didn’t like my age joke. Too bad. He was the one that brought the age factor up. Not me. Nothing is like paybacks. One minute he is saying put on weight, the next I am fat. I couldn’t believe he told me I was fucking fat. What guy says that?

  My inner goddess peered over her dark rimmed glasses… she filled her cheeks with hot air, giving me insight to how I might look if I were fat. I glared back at her. It was obvious she was jealous of me.

  “So, now you think I am fat?” My vocal cords vibrated, so did my hands. “First you tell me to gain weight, then you say I am fat… what is with that? Is that why you keep giving me apples to eat—did you know apples are full of sugar?” I stammered on and on. “Do you know how confusing you are?”

  “No, not exactly, now calm down… I think you’re perfect the way you are… it’s the camera that might not like you?” His voice was poignant. “As for the apples, they are a gift.”

  “A gift?” I buzzed.

  “Yes, a gift… My apples are special, they offer vitality, long-life and knowledge—insight—when you come face to face, with lives most sticky situations—you will be prepared.�
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  “What do you mean?” His emphasizes on the word sticky. It was a bit disconcerting. I could have sworn he was trying to send me a message… perhaps, a clue for what’s to come: a sexual innuendo? His baritone voice made me feel kind of heady, and my limbs tingled. On second thought, it was his intense gaze, burning me to the core that afflicted me.

  “I suppose you could say they are magical,” His eyes alight brightly then faded.

  “Magical?” The word caught in my throat.

  “Yes, very much so,” he picked up the apple… and brushed it against my lips. I felt like purring for him, but hesitated to do so. “Take a bite,” he said lowly.

  I bit the apple as seductively as one could, keeping my eyes on him the entire time. After swallowing the delicious fruit; waves of heat radiated in my panties.

  “Wow if I didn’t know better Mr. Maximillion, I would say you are trying to seduce me…” My breath was wistful and clear.

  “Oh I think you know better.” His eyes locked with mine. I felt the blood drain from my face. “I like you Miss Ridame. I like you a lot, so much that I am going to revise our typical contestant’s contract, especially for you.”

  I felt major heat rushing to my face. He liked me… Wow of course he did, but how much? Oh, wait, he said a lot. Was this just another setup, like the time in the garage when he asked for my hand in marriage? One of his fifty shades of lies? I was not prepared for him to be so candid. I flashed him a curious eye. Breathe, breathe—breathe—I reminded myself.

  “Really…?” I questioned him calmly. Suddenly a ball of fire bloomed below my waistline.

  “That’s right.” He raised one brow, narrowing his eyes. Damn, his demeanor fluctuated fifty degrees in so many different directions. I could not keep track of them all.

  “Well, I like you too.” I said hoarsely. My words caught in the back of my throat, waiting for the last shoe to fall. I rapidly batted my lashes. Shit, double shit…I more than like you—you big hunk of muscle. If I were not trying to leave a good impression on him, I would have hopped in his lap and fucked his brains out. More than likely he had big brains—I already knew he had a big head, literally that is, and I could not wait to see the rest of him.