Enthrall

by Vanessa Fewings

  When I braved to look again, it was to meet Richard’s reassuring expression.

  “Well, that was articulated well,” he said with a dangerous softness.

  Still riding the wave, ready for whatever happened next, my legs weakened. I was relieved it was over and yet tormented with a fear it may never happen again.

  Cameron tugged down my skirt and stepped back. I turned, relieved to see him smiling, his nod letting me know everything was fine.

  A wave of dizziness hit me again.

  Cameron stepped forward and took me in his arms, guiding me across the room. When we reached the studded couch, he eased me down to sit and I sank into the leather. He settled beside me, rubbing my back with affection. When I finally braved to look up, Richard had gone.

  Pressing my hands against my chest, I willed these palpitations to slow, hoping to remember how to take deep breaths again and make it look easy.

  Lotte entered and made a beeline for us. In her hand she carried a beige folder. She joined us on the couch, sitting beside me.

  She tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “How’s my darling Mia?”

  “Oh, fine.” Eyeing that beige folder suspiciously, I hoped it didn’t contain my official marching orders.

  Not now, not after having tasted the sweetest forbidden fruit.

  Cameron straightened my skirt, his fingers easing my hem towards my knees, his touch firm and comforting.

  Lotte handed me the file. “Type these up, please, and have them on Richard’s desk by tomorrow.”

  My gaze shot up to meet Cameron’s.

  “Well done,” he said. “Ms. Lauren, well done.”

  Lotte squeezed my arm. “Mia, your boss wants you to check his emails one final time and then you’re permitted to head home early.”

  I gave a nod and tried to make it to the door without tripping. I couldn’t bear to look back and have them see me flustered. I’d already shared more of myself in these last moments than I ever had, exposed my heart as well as my most private of places, shocking myself into silence.

  Outside, I took a moment to steady my nerves, pressing my forehead against the wall, trying to catch my breath and calm my shaking hands. Those stunning tingles of pleasure still lingering between my thighs and made me ache for more; an indescribable longing. I willed these unfamiliar thoughts away before they rendered me useless.

  Vaguely, I became aware that Mistress Scarlet had appeared out of nowhere. She closed the gap between us.

  “Mia,” she said. “You have color in your cheeks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so lovely.”

  “I understand now,” I told her. “This place.” I felt silly for saying it, my mind so consumed, my heart still racing.

  She smiled. “Cameron?”

  My cheeks blushed wildly and I averted my gaze.

  “No one understands the delicate blossoming of a bud more than Cameron.” She stroked my cheek with curled fingers. “My sweet butterfly, draw in your wings when near Richard. He has a penchant for singeing them.”

  She headed off down the hallway, showing remarkable poise in nine inch heels.

  Hadn’t she warned me off Cameron? A trace of his touch still lingered low in my belly; the shadow of his grip.

  All for Richard’s approval.

  Clutching that beige folder, I made my way toward the reception desk, grateful it was mine again, and tried to grasp Scarlet’s words.

  “HOW ARE WE THIS MORNING?” said Richard.

  He lingered on the other side of my desk, oozing his usual sexual confidence and looking ridiculously dashing in a suit. This whole pretty boy mixed with rugged explorer was distracting. I’d been so busy shoving invitations into envelopes for Chrysalis’s party I’d almost forgotten yesterday’s breathtaking event of getting my job back, with what Cameron had assured me was panache. What would usually be considered tartsville behavior was all so normal here.

  “Mia?” he said.

  Ravaged by the memories, I blushed wildly. “Fine, thank you.” I slid a blank post-it note inside a beige file trying to look busy. “How are you?”

  “Fine, thank you,” he echoed. “Are you sure?”

  I glanced up. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “We could perhaps talk about yesterday?”

  “Oh, no thank you.” I waved it off while subduing this threatening blush.

  As though still trying to extract more, his eyebrows drew together. “Do you want to meet me there?”

  My blush brightened. “Where?”

  “Our three o’clock.”

  “Huh?”

  “Brentwood.”

  I dragged the diary across the desk and opened it. “We?”

  He leaned forward and rested his fingertip on the page. “The Sullivan’s.”

  I hoped to read the answer from his face.

  He shrugged. “Or we can go together if you’re uncomfortable with finding the place.”

  “We can go together,” I said, my gaze finding the Sullivan’s name and wondering what we’d be doing there.

  “It’s their interview. They feel ready for a stay at Chrysalis.” He narrowed his stare. “You know about Chrysalis, right?”

  “Of course,” I fibbed, and used a pencil to underline their name.

  “What you did yesterday was impressive. You know how to take your boss’s breath away.”

  A flutter of nerves tingled in my chest and I wondered if underlining a name ten times might look strange.

  “Mia?”

  Braving a look up, I let go of the pencil.

  “Do you regret it?” he said.

  “No.” And I didn’t. Not really. It was merely this embarrassment of having to face him again.

  He sat on the edge of the desk. “That will never be expected of you again. Or anything sexual for that matter.”

  “Thank goodness,” I said, and in response to his look of surprise added, “Thank you for giving me my job back.”

  “We’re happy to have you back. I think you’re going to like it here.”

  “Me too.”

  He stood there, staring for far too long. “Five minutes sound good to you?”

  I tried not to look nervous.

  He knitted his brow. “Until we leave.”

  “That’s fine.” I cringed inside.

  Richard headed to his office.

  It felt good to clear the air. He was a hard man to read, and although I’d glimpsed his ability to show kindness he still scared the hell out of me. Maybe it was his east coast demeanor. That well-educated elitism that he’d never shaken. Yesterday had broken down some of that wall between us. Still, I sensed we had a long way to go before I felt relaxed around him. You’d have thought that after my erotic shenanigans there would be less tension. It was hard to tell if he was looking down on me because I obviously lacked his Ivy league background or whether I was just as much a conundrum to him. My first impression of Richard having a privileged upbringing had been right. I imagined him and Cameron both drinking expensive foreign wine in some dark cornered Massachusetts bar, while discussing philosophy and other pretentious subjects. I wondered if they’d ever been members of a secret society while at Harvard, like the Skull and Bones, or was that Yale? Anyway, I made a mental note to ask him when we’d gotten to know each other better. As well as the most intriguing question of all: how he ended up here.

  My iPhone buzzed and I reached into my handbag and read the text.

  Bailey: “How did it go?”

  Mia: “Mission accomplished. Have job back.”

  Bailey: “Did you use new super sexy ninja moves?”

  Mia: “Yes, kind of.”

  Bailey:”OMG. Call me.”

  Richard stood in the doorway. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Um, no.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  “No. My friend, Bailey.”

  “Please don’t use your phone in front of clients.”

  I gave a nod and shoved my iPhone back into my bag, hoping he
didn’t ask to look at what I’d texted.

  The phone vibrated with a new message.

  Richard came closer and leaned forward on the desk. “You’re itching to see what it says aren’t you?”

  I assumed it was Bailey again asking for all the rude details of yesterday. Of course we could have discussed this last night, but she was at her yoga class. I’d rented a documentary on Netflix, some penguin film I’d found hard to concentrate on as my mind kept dragging me back to when I’d flashed my boss.

  “Well?” Richard’s face changed and he stood tall. “Ready?”

  I rose and grabbed my bag. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “You have no idea what the appointment’s for, do you?”

  I ignored that question and with a flick of my mouse sent my computer to sleep. “It’s nice to get out,” was all I could think of.

  “This is certainly going to be interesting.” He led the way to the lift.

  Inside the chauffer driven Lincoln town car, Richard worked on his iPad, pausing now and again to check his BlackBerry.

  Sitting quietly beside him, nudged up in the corner of the back left seat, I marveled at his ability not to get car sick. He took a phone call and it was reassuring to see him loosen up, crossing his legs casually and laughing. Something told me the caller was Cameron.

  After turning off the main road and heading up what appeared to be a private lane, I was grateful Richard and I were travelling together. I doubted I’d have found this place on my own.

  White pillars rose high, emphasizing the grand entrance to an enormous mansion. The architecture mingled Italian and French styles and oozed billionaire. Lush landscaping wrapped around the estate and an ornate dolphin fountain welcomed guests at the front of the house. The lavish outside of the estate equaled the inside, with sumptuous furnishings evidently decorated by an eccentric stylist. It made me wonder if the residents had been too polite to pull the designer back and tame the leopard print theme.

  The fifty-something uniformed housekeeper led Richard and I into a living room.

  Though I wanted to keep my sunglasses on to ward off the brightness of mismatched golds and reds, Richard reached over and removed them off my face.

  “We pay danger money,” he said, arching a brow.

  I tucked my glasses into my bag and shoved it beside my feet. Perched on the end of a light blue sofa, I was nervous of causing a crease. Seriously, this was the richest house I’d ever been in. The enormous pink marble fireplace must have cost a fortune and the two ornamental dogs sitting on either side of the mantel gave it a regal air. All the furniture in here seemed overly decadent, garish even. I wondered what kind of people the Sullivan’s were and how they made their money.

  Richard seemed relaxed, leaning back casually on an over-stuffed cushion. “Well?” he said, sweeping his hand wide. “What do you think?”

  “This is the biggest house I’ve ever been in,” I admitted.

  “What about the decor?”

  “Not really my taste.”

  “What is your taste?”

  I wondered if I’d overstepped the mark by being honest. “Simple.”

  “You mean cheap?”

  I threw him an annoyed glare.

  “I’m hungry,” he said grouchily.

  “Maybe they have cookies.”

  “How old are you?” He frowned. “I mean really?”

  “From now on I’ll bring a snack in my handbag for you.”

  “Initiative too. We’ve outdone ourselves.”

  “Why are we here?” I said, trying to ignore his attempt to rile me up. If he wanted to get a reaction out of me so he could find another excuse to fire me, he wasn’t getting one.

  “The Sullivan’s need to sign some forms so they’re set for next week,” he said.

  “You can’t send them in the post?”

  “Tell me what you know about Chrysalis?”

  “Well...um...”

  A bark pulled our attention toward the door. A Pomeranian snarled at us. The dog’s owner appeared, a woman dressed elegantly in a cream suit, her blonde hair up in a chignon. She looked about twenty-five but dressed older.

  “Master Richard Booth,” she said with a strong Texan lilt, holding her hands out to greet him. She flushed brightly and giggled.

  The dog yapped at Richard’s feet. He ignored it and rose to greet his highly perfumed friend. Her scent reminded me of a flower shop.

  “And who is this adorable young lady?” she said breathlessly.

  “Mia, my new secretary,” said Richard. “How are you, Constance?” He kissed both her cheeks, and her hands still held in his.

  Constance beamed at me. “I’m fine. Bill will be right with us. He’s finishing up on a call. Why Mia, do sit and tell me all about you.”

  Richard sat beside me. “We’re not here to talk about us, Constance. This day is all about you and Bill.”

  She took the armchair opposite. “We are just thrilled you could make it. The driveway can be tricky.”

  “It’s a road,” jested Richard.

  “Bill gave you directions though, didn’t he? He’s good at that kind of thing. Me, well if it wasn’t for my GPS I’d be back in Texas every time I went to Beverly Hills.” She let out a nervous laugh.

  “We’ll take it slow,” said Richard.

  Which was kind of strange but it seemed to appease her. She took a long, deep breath and calmed a little.

  “Can I get you refreshments?” she said. “Lemonade?”

  “Your housekeeper already offered,” he said. “We’re fine.”

  She leaned forward. “I am ready for this? Right Richard?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “It’s only natural to be a little nervous.” He opened the envelope. “Once these are signed you’ll be all set.”

  “I wish you guys did a one week thing. A month seems such a long time.” She swallowed hard.

  Richard leaned back and blinked his answer.

  “I am ready,” she said. “Really I am. I know I don’t sound it.”

  Richard looked thoughtful.

  “They call it emersion, apparently.” Constance turned to me. “That’s why it goes on for so long. That’s what Bill tells me anyway.”

  Richard motioned he agreed.

  Constance continued, “Bill’s done it twice before and he says he’s a new man when he comes out of there.”

  The dog yapped toward the door.

  A handsome middle-aged man appeared. “Did I hear my name being mentioned?” he spoke with the same Texan lilt.

  Constance rose and so did Richard. I followed their lead and stood too.

  The man’s stare fixed on me. “Why, Richard, you shouldn’t have.”

  “Terrance.” Richard looked amused and proffered his hand. “How have you been?”

  “Good,” he said, “and you?”

  “Wonderful.” Richard patted his arm with affection. “You’ve been working out, Terrance.”

  “Constance’s personal trainer.” He cringed. “I hate the bastard.”

  Richard laughed with them.

  We all took our seats again and Terrance sat in the other armchair, close to his wife’s. Terrance’s stare found me again.

  I felt Constance looking at me too and yet she wasn’t in the least effected by her husband’s glaring. Over the last few weeks I’d mastered the art of hiding my reaction and prided myself on even hiding my discomfort from Richard.

  “Those for me?” Terrance held his hand out.

  Richard gave him the papers. “We have your NDA, the form for your doctor to sign off, and of course your special request form.”

  I’d signed Enthrall’s non-disclosure agreement on my first day. I wondered if Chrysalis’s might be the same.

  Terrance looked surprised. “Special requests. That’s new.” He placed them on the coffee table.

  I tried to get in a discreet peek at them only to feel Richard’s disapproving glare.

  “This is Mia,”
said Constance. “She’s Richard’s new secretary.”

  “Well done,” said Terrance.

  Richard gestured. “Mr. Sullivan has been a member of Enthrall for six years.”

  “Coming up for seven,” said Terrance.

  “Now.” Richard looked serious. “Constance, I want to make sure you’ve given Chrysalis a great deal of thought. It’s not Enthrall. I’m sure the director’s been over everything with you, but once you sign these...”

  Constance shifted in her seat. “I feel it’s one of those things I’ll regret if I don’t do it.”

  “I’ve told her my first wife loved it,” said Terrance.

  My jaw almost hit the floor.

  “She did,” said Constance with a nod. “I bumped into her last week in Neimen Marcus. We caught up.”

  “Ellen loved it too. My second wife,” said Terrance.

  How many x-wives did this man have?

  “Do you like spending time in Chrysalis?” Constance asked me.

  I looked to Richard for help with that one.

  He merely stared at me, waiting for an answer which he knew I wouldn’t have.

  “I’ve never actually been,” I said.

  “Oh,” said Constance. “Why not?”

  “Sweetheart,” said Richard. “She’s staff. Not a member.” He looked sad for me.

  Constance shot a sympathetic look my way. “Well maybe we could offer to gift her membership?”

  Terrance laughed. “My wife’s unending generosity.”

  “Shall we begin?” said Richard, gesturing to the door, evidently wanting to move on with the proceedings.

  I wondered what this part might be.

  Constance took a deep breath. “How long do you watch for?”

  “It’s a formality. Ticks in the right boxes. That kind of thing. Five minutes. How does that sound?” He lowered his gaze. “I’ll discreetly slip away and the next time you’ll see me will be at Chrysalis.”