Darke [Part 1]

by Saber Vale

“Thanks, Colin, you’re surprisingly dashing in your tux,” I admitted. We’d spent so much time together, but he was almost always wearing his costume, typically a ragged t-shirt and jeans.

  “This will be fun tonight,” he said, reaching into the mini fridge and popping out a champagne split. He downed the last of the wine he already had and then opened the next.

  “I always have to be a little tight for these things,” Collin said in his charming accent, handing me a glass.

  “This is my first time even going to a formal event,” I admitted, sipping the newly poured wine.

  “Oh, how adorable,” Colin said with a laugh, “I’ve been doing this sort of thing since I was a boy, my mother and father were a duke and duchess, so I was traveling the world and going to these obnoxious parties since I was a lad. I became an actor to get away from the high life, to be a starving artist, and now here I am…”

  He sighed, like I should feel bad for him. I gave him a tight smile and nodded.

  Colin kept talking about himself non-stop. I listened politely, and was interested somewhat in his life, which was so, so much different from mine. Like Keller, he’d been tutored privately and traveled the world, and then had gone to the Oxford School of Drama to get his acting education. He’d been married once, which I knew, to Miriam Henry-Frank, an actress who lived in New York and was stunningly, almost unbelievably beautiful.

  “...and we got a divorce because she wanted to control my every move. Like, a man like me meets a new beautiful woman every single day, and I’m only supposed to have eyes for her?”

  “Eh…” I said uneasily. I remembered the tabloid news about their explosive divorce, his cheating, her public humiliation.

  We arrived at the venue, the Getty Art Museum villa in Malibu, the driver opened the door to the limo, and lights began to flash. There were photographers, which I couldn’t believe, and an actual red carpet. Colin stepped out first and then offered his arm to me, smiling.

  “You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he said softly, kissing me on the cheek.

  It was surprisingly reassuring. He lead me up the red carpet leading to the Getty villa, lit with hanging golden Chinese lanterns, it’s glittering reflecting pool filled with floating candles, flickering beautifully. The building, white with glowing windows, perfectly manicured garden, and the shimmering reflecting pool, looked like something out of an Italian art house film.

  We walked through the crowd, Colin showing me off to the photographers, and I felt like a real movie star, even though I’d never completed a movie.

  “This is Selma Thorne, my costar in Sundown city,” he announced, since obviously no one knew who I was.

  He twirled me around, making my dress flutter and twinkle in the camera flashes and candle light. I smiled and tried to enjoy it instead of letting insecurity sneak in.

  “Is she your new girlfriend?” asked a photographer, snapping a picture.

  “We’re very good friends, we like each other very much,” Colin said, winking.

  I blushed and bit my lip nervously and glanced at him. He squeezed my shoulder and the cameras flashed as we paused, posing for the cameras. Finally, he lead me into the party.

  The party was dazzling, the inside of the villa transformed into a shimmering palace. Waiters in all black, perfectly groomed, swirled trays of champagne around the room. Beautiful people, one after another, some famous, some powerful, others who wanted to be, moved around the room like images on TV, none of them seeming to see me, my eyes open to everything like a child at an amusement park, everything astonishing and sparkling and unbelievable.

  I was drinking it all in, smiling stupidly, childishly, when I saw him, his eyes piercing me like a bayonet. I felt my knees buckle, my heart race. Of course he was there, I should have expected it, but I wasn’t prepared at all.

  Keller.

  He was wearing a tux, and somehow looked even more beautiful, more polished and stunning, than he ever had. Perfectly clean shaven, his hair combed back, a casualness to his stance that undercut the seriousness, the formality of the tux. He had such swagger, I noticed, that he made everything around him seem trivial, like he couldn’t care less, like he had hardly bothered to be there at all.

  I felt my lips part, and I stopped myself from taking a step towards him even though I was drawn like a moth to a light. I wanted to be near him, to touch him, I wanted to press my lips to his perfect lips, to feel his hands on my hips, on my back. I wanted to be at the party with him, but I wasn’t.

  To my horror, I realized, someone else was.

  Beside him was the actress Cecile Duval, raven haired, pale, in a tight, floor length black gown that clung to her thin, willowy frame. She looked bored, but was whispering to Keller, who smiled and nodded as he listened and sipped his drink, looking right at me. I knew her from a few movies, mostly a series of corny actions movie where she played some sort of ninja.

  “Oh, there’s our intrepid producer,” Colin said drunkenly, wrapping a hand around my waist and leading me over. Cecile glanced at Colin and then looked me up and down as though sizing me up.

  “Hello Colin, Selma, this is my friend Cecile,” Keller said, looking at my dress approvingly. I reached up and touched the charm on the necklace without meaning to, and he watched without saying a word.

  My heart thumped and I forced myself to smile, to detach.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, smiling.

  “Uh-huh,” she said, smiling absently.

  “I like the dress,” I said hesitantly to Keller, who smirked his infuriating smirk, like he already knew I liked it, that it was silly to even point it out.

  “Of course,” he said quietly.

  He looked at me with such intensity, I couldn’t believe he didn’t want to touch me too, didn’t want to put his hands all over me. I ached for him.

  A beat passed.

  “Anyway, nice to run into you,” Colin said, scooping me up by the waist, leading me away suddenly, “see you on set.”

  Colin lead me away to meet someone he’d seen in the crowd, a director whose next project he was hoping to work on.

  “That was kind of weird,” Colin said, “Keller seemed to be in a bad mood.”

  “Did he?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Yeah, I had to get away, sorry if it was abrupt, but the way he looks at you is a little intense, don’t you think? I thought he was going to rip my head off just for standing so close to you.”

  “I didn’t notice,” I lied.

  “It was weird,” he said, “and I wonder why he’s here with Cecile, she’s a nightmare.”

  “Oh?” I said, not wanting to pry, just wanting him to keep talking.

  “Yeah, she grew up even more rich than I did, and her parents basically bankrolled her first movie. She’s pretty, for sure, but not very talented.”

  “Ah,” I nodded.

  “She probably wants him to produce her next movie,” Colin went on, “I’ve heard she’s got this vanity project she wants done, a really stupid sounding drama where she would play Jackie O or somebody, even though she hasn’t got the chops. And she’s such a bitch!”

  Colin laughed at himself.

  “Sure,” I said, nodding along as we walked into the crowd and Colin snatched two champagne glasses off of a tray that was floating past.

  “You know you’re a pretty good actress, Selma,” he said absently, like it was kind of a disappointment, “and I think Keller knows it, too.”

  “Thanks, Colin,” I said, sipping my drink.

  “Anytime, sweetheart,” he said, smiling, “I just thought you should know, in case Keller makes you feel like… I don’t know, like you’re getting ahead because of him. It’s not because of him, it’s because you’re really, really talented.”

  Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed with emotion. Did Keller make me feel like I wasn’t deserving of success? Did he try to make me feel that way on purpose?

  I trailed along beside Colin as he caught up with producers, directors,
and other actors. They all seemed so genuinely happy to see him, and he was such a magnetic, relaxed, charming guy, it was hard not to be taken in by his energy.

  Dinner was served and I couldn’t see Keller from where I was sitting, and I was finally able to relax, the champagne catching up to me. After dinner there was dancing, and Colin lead me onto the floor with a light hearted enthusiasm that made me lose my inhibitions and actually have some fun.

  “May I?” Keller’s familiar voice interrupted, and, to my relief, I felt his strong hands slip around my waist.

  “I’m glad to see you,” I whispered into his ear, my lips grazing his cheek.

  The champagne was making me feel bold.

  “Selma, you look incredible,” he said to me in his low voice, pulling me close to him, “I… I want to take you home right now.”

  “So take me home,” I whispered, “take me home, tie me up, and use me any way that you want.”

  I felt him hardening against me as his grip on my waist tightened.

  “You know I can’t,” he said, an ache in his voice.

  “You can do whatever you want,” I reminded him, “you’re Keller Darke.”

  “Selma,” he whispered, his lips pressed against my ear, dancing with me slowly.

  “Are you dating that other woman?”

  “Cecile? No,” Keller said, “I don’t even like her, she wants me to produce a movie and invited me to this so she could pester me about it. I wanted to see you, so I came.”

  “You wanted to see me?” I said childishly.

  “Don’t get a big head about it,” he said, “but yes, I did. I wanted to see you in this dress. In the necklace.”

  “You look fantastic in that tux,” I told him, putting my face against his, feeling his warmth, “I want to take it off of you.”

  “You’re killing me, Selma,” Keller groaned.

  “I’m killing you?” I whispered, “you’re the one who won’t walk out of her, get into your car with me, and take me back to your house.”

  “Ok, ok,” he sighed, “let me tie up some loose ends, say goodnight to some people.”

  I felt exhilarated. My heart surged and my whole body felt light and relaxed. We parted ways, and I knew I needed to find Colin to say goodnight. I went and grabbed my purse, couldn’t find Colin, and eventually made my way to the powder room. I was standing in front of the mirror, fixing my lipstick, when Cecile walked into the room.

  “So you’ve convinced him to leave with you, I guess?”

  “Oh, hi Cecile,” I said, smiling sheepishly.

  “I’m glad I never had to be anyone’s whore to get ahead,” she said casually, pulling out her own lipstick, “it must be really humiliating. I can’t imagine.”

  “I’m not a whore,” I said, frozen and shaken.

  “Ok, honey,” she said with a laugh, “don’t be offended, I feel sorry for you!”

  “Don’t,” I said, “I’ve seen your movies Cecile, you’ve got your own lack of talent to worry about.”

  Cecile shot me an icy look.

  “I could sink your career as quickly as Keller makes it,” she hissed.

  “I doubt that,” I shrugged.

  Keeping myself from crying was the only thing I cared about. The tight smile on my lips protected me, I thought, from a cavalcade of pain. I was learning, I realized, to smile when I was aching, detach when I wanted to hold on, to feel numb and nothingness when just a moment before my heart was about to break.

  Keller was training me well.

  I told Colin I had to leave early because I wasn’t feeling well, which was partly true. Colin raised an eyebrow, like he didn’t quite believe my story, and shrugged dramatically, like he didn’t really care one way or another. When Keller found me and took my hand, leading me out, I was sick to my stomach.

  “I… I ran into Cecile in the ladies room,” I said quietly, letting him lead me.

  “What did she say,” Keller asked, rolling his eyes.

  “That I was a whore and that she could ruin my career,” I answered.

  “Hmm,” he said quietly, like he was thinking about it.

  “It really… it really upset me Keller.”

  “It upsets me too, Selma,” he said, “I like you, and I don’t think you’re a whore, and Cecile couldn’t ruin your career, she can’t even save her own.”

  “Ok,” I sighed, trying to breathe, trying to relax. I was getting what I wanted, wasn’t I? To go home with Keller? Did it matter if I really was a whore? If I was a fraud? For now, I was getting what I wanted.

  We got out of the event space into the cool California night air, the darkened Chinese lanterns swaying in a slight breeze. The candles in the reflecting pool long extinguished, and the pool only shimmered with the reflection of the moon. Keller stopped and turned to face me.

  “Selma, no matter what happens after this movie is over, I want you to know that I think you’re an amazing actress and one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met, alright?”

  We got into his car and he started driving towards my condo… or, rather, his condo that I was living in.

  “But I’m always going to owe my success to the fact that I slept with you,” I said, my voice quiet and afraid, “and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

  Keller gave me a long, hard look, and his eyes turned cold once again, like I’d just broken a rule by acknowledging our quid pro quo.

  “I picked you before we slept together,” he reminded me.

  “That doesn’t matter,” I said bitterly, “you’ve made it very clear how you feel about me.”

  “So how do I feel about you?” he asked mockingly, “tell me, if I’ve made it so clear.”

  I didn’t know how to answer him.

  We pulled up to the curb in front of the condo, and Keller parked and got out, but didn’t turn off the engine.

  “I’m not coming in,” he said quietly, opening my passenger side door.

  “What?” I nearly gasped, “Keller, that’s ridiculous.”

  “No, it’s not, we have to end things, Selma,” he said quietly, refusing to look me in the eyes, “I can’t feel this way about someone. I have a business to run, I have… a way of doing things.”

  “Yeah, you’ve told me,” I groaned, “I get it, ok? I’ll survive.”

  “You probably would,” Keller said with a shrug.

  I stood there looking at him, shocked, for a moment, before realizing the truth.

  “Oh my god,” I whispered, “you’re in love with me.”

  Finally, he looked at me. The look was both cruel and helpless. Like the two parts of him that were at war emerged at the same moment.

  “Keller,” I said, reaching out to him, “I… I love you too. Why… why does this have to be a bad thing?”

  “Go inside,” he murmured, his voice low, “enjoy the condo until shooting ends, the film is doing great and I’ll have some other films lined up for you when it’s over. You’re going to have a stellar career. You don’t need me, don’t worry about me pulling you from the movie or anything. It’s over between us, but I’ll still help you professionally.”

  “Keller,” I whispered, wanting to touch him, to be held by him.

  “No,” he said, stepping back, out of my reach, “we’re done.”

  He got in his car, revved the engine, and pulled slowly away, leaving me on the sidewalk, my clutch dangling from my wrist, my beautiful night completely ruined, my heart broken for the very first time.

  Darke

  I’d done what I had to do.

  I peeled away from the sidewalk, my heart racing, feeling like I’d almost stepped off a ledge, and then caught myself.

  She’d said the words I hadn’t been able to say to myself.

  I loved her.

  That didn’t mean I had to be with her, though, it meant I had to stop seeing her, to get away, to free myself. It meant I had fucked up, but it wasn’t too late for me to correct course. I just couldn't see her again, I had to find
something new, and quickly. I pressed the gas and raged.

  I was furious at myself. Furious for falling for her. Furious for losing sight of who I was, for breaking promises I’d made to myself.

  Furious, most of all, because I’d hurt her, and her pain, the look in her eyes, was following me no matter how fast I drove, how loud I turned up my music.

  I drove into the hills like I’d done so many times, letting the world glide past as I left it behind on my way to my sanctuary.

  I had to stop everything with Selma. I had to get back to my routine. I had to forget her and everything she’d made me feel.

  I had to get back to being Keller Darke.

  Saber Vale

  CHAPTER ONE

  Saber Vale writes steamy, twisted erotica, with characters who are opened up to the darker, sexier side of fantasy and desire, pushed to their limits and, sometimes, broken.

  To join her mailing list, click

  HERE

  CHAPTER TWO

  An excerpt from Saber Vale’s debut short story, The Contract…

  They’d hired me about a month before.

  I’d had some idea of what I was getting into, but you never know what it’s going to be like, really, until you’re actually doing it. I had agreed to be their completely willing sexual servant and surrogate, never allowed to say no. They wouldn’t hurt me beyond spanking for light punishment, and I’d have Sundays off. I could quit anytime I wanted, but as long as I worked, six days a week, available any hour of the day, I would make two thousand dollars a week and have all of my room and board paid for.