Enthrall

by Vanessa Fewings

  “New York?”

  Maybe a visit to see his mother, which would be good for him and nice for his mom, too. I’d miss him terribly.

  He put the clock down and twisted it to face the bed. “I’m going to be staying at Chrysalis.”

  All color drained from my face.

  He shrugged. “We rotate. It’s what we do. Four weeks at Enthrall and one at Chrysalis.”

  My chest felt heavy and I dared to ask him the haunting question. “Will you be...”

  “It’s my job, Mia. It’s what I do.”

  I pulled my hand out of his. “Will you be having sex with people?”

  “I’ll be working as a senior dominant.”

  I scrunched up the blanket and pulled it higher. “Senior?”

  “Let’s discuss this some other time, huh?”

  “Maybe if you talk to Cameron he’ll let you skip this week?”

  He looked sympathetic. “I refuse to let him down. Anyway, Chrysalis is as much my business as it is his.”

  The ache in my chest tightened. “Business.”

  “We have high-paying clientele arriving.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to go.”

  “Don’t.” I knew it sounded clingy but I couldn’t bear the thought of him touching anyone other than me. Even if it was with the end of a whip.

  Thoughts of Courtney came to mind. Richard would be doing a whole lot more with a greater number of clients.

  I rubbed my stomach to ease the tension. “I’ll come with you.”

  He scoffed. “I’ll see you soon. We’ll go to Santa Barbara for the weekend. I’ll get to spoil my girl.” He went to kiss me.

  I pulled back.

  “Don’t be like this. I’ve been honest with you right from the start.”

  “Don’t go,” it came out as a sob.

  “What we do requires concentration. Focus. Stop rubbing your stomach like I’ve delivered bad news.” He sat up and folded his arms. “Your support would be appreciated.”

  “Support.”

  “Yes. Be mature. Accepting. Non-judgmental.”

  “How can I?” I snapped. “You’re off to play manwhore for a week.” It came out wrong.

  Richard rose off the bed and let out a long, steadying breath. Casually, he strolled out. The front door opened and shut.

  I was alone again.

  CRYING IN ENTRHALL’S PARKING lot yet again, I recalled the last time I’d been pouring my heart out here. Right after Richard had fired me.

  He’d been trying to protect me from his lifestyle as well as his past. The thought of him not being in my life wrenched agonizingly at my heart and the knot in my stomach tightened.

  I’d ruined everything.

  Peering through my car window, I took in Enthrall. The building appeared so elegant from the outside with all that ornate brickwork sculpted along its facade. No one would guess the kind of things that went on in there. I couldn’t go in until I’d gotten these tears under control. I dared not arouse suspicion about having an argument with Richard this morning.

  I didn’t mean that awful word I called you.

  It felt like someone was trying to dig my heart out with a spoon. I grabbed my iPhone and I dialed his number. I was sent to voice mail. A lifeline within this terrible storm.

  “Richard, I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I hate myself.” I clamped my hand over my mouth, afraid of wailing into the phone.

  I waited for him to call back. Richard had opened up his heart for the first time in years and I’d betrayed his trust. My moans filled the car again.

  A ping snapped me back.

  I read his response.

  Richard: “Mia, I love you. Everything is fine. We’ll talk. Are you still my girl?”

  Mia: “Yes. Do you hate me?”

  Richard: “I only have love for you. I understand. Please be happy. Eat breakfast.”

  I’d been nothing but cruel to him and he’d responded with kindness. It was all too much. I burst out crying again.

  Mia: “I miss you.”

  Richard: “Miss you too, my sweet Mia. More than you know. I may be off the grid soon. Don’t worry. Nothing will change between us. Unless you want it to.”

  Mia: “No.”

  Richard: “Tell me you’re okay.”

  Mia: “Now I am.”

  My cell’s low battery signal flashed on and off.

  Mia: “Cell dying.”

  Richard: “Stepping into a meeting. Will call later. I love you!”

  Thank God, we weren’t over.

  A meeting? That sounded so formal. I wondered when the leather donning, whip wielding, paddle spanking bit began. Don’t go there, I told myself. Think about how wonderful it is to wake up in his arms with nothing but the sound of waves. The ache in my chest lifted.

  Not wearing any make-up this morning had been the only reasonable decision I’d made. I flipped down the sunblind and checked my face in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed and my eyes were red from tears.

  I made my way into Enthrall.

  Within half an hour I’d applied make-up in the restroom and disguised all sign of anything being wrong. Nursing this hot cup of coffee at my desk, I went through his emails and tried to take my mind off the bad start this morning. With Richard gone, I didn’t feel like doing anything.

  Perhaps Richard wouldn’t mind if I took the day off, I mused. With that flash of inspiration, I pulled out my iPhone to text him. He’d get the message after his meeting. Hopefully I’d catch him before he went off the grid.

  Mistress Scarlet strolled through the staff door and I hid my iPhone in the drawer.

  “There you are, Mia,” she said. “How are you?”

  “Fine thank you,” I said, “How are you?”

  Scarlet was clutching a beige folder. “Richard’s out of the office this week, isn’t he.”

  “He’s at Chrysalis.” I tried to fake I was fine with it and studied her with the same laser sighted stare she held me with.

  Her heavily massacred eyelashes blinked at me. “Mia.” She stretched my name out, like a purr.

  I took a sip of coffee.

  “How are things really with you?” she said.

  “Good.”

  “Hhmmm.” She twisted her mouth as though readying to discuss all that had happened this morning.

  Had Richard told her?

  “What’s your favorite movie?” she asked.

  “Um...I’m not sure.” I’d not seen one in months. I could certainly afford to go to the cinema now. Maybe I’d catch a movie this afternoon. Maybe I’d go shopping too and buy some sexy new underwear.

  “Mine’s the Matrix,” she said. “There’s this bit in the film--” She paused. “Have you seen it?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s this scene where Morpheus is offering Thomas Anderson the choice of two pills. One is red and the other is blue. Do you remember?”

  I gave a nod.

  I’d seen the movie with Bailey. We’d watched it at her place on Netflix some time ago. I’d found the younger Keanu Reeves particularly hot in that long, black trench coat. Not surprisingly Bailey had found Trinity hotter.

  “Do you know what those two pills are meant to represent?” she said.

  “Making a decision?”

  “The blue pill represents blissful ignorance versus the red pill that allows a person to embrace reality as it really is. The red pill brings heart wrenching, agonizing pain.”

  She must have seen me crying in the car.

  “If given the choice, which one would you take?” she said. “Red or blue?”

  “Is this about Richard?” I held my breath. “He’s told me everything.”

  She narrowed her stare. “No.”

  “Cameron?”

  “It pertains to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Which pill would you take, Mia?”

  My gaze drifted to the beige folder. “Have I done something wrong?”

  “Red’s my favorite color,” she
said. “I also tend to face my dragons.”

  “Red,” I said. “I’d take the red one.”

  Her voice was steady and sure. “We do a background search on all of our staff. It’s quite routine. It’s the only way to ensure we hire responsible and honest staff.”

  A wave of guilt washed over me...but you haven’t done anything wrong.

  “We conduct a thorough search,” she said. “We hire a private detective to round out the vast body of information we gather.” She lay the folder on the desk and rested her perfectly manicured fingernails on it. “Your background search turned up something interesting. Richard and Cameron both decided it was best not to confront you with it just yet.”

  A wave of dizziness came over me with the thought of what they’d found.

  “I thought you’d want to know. We did of course go round and around trying to make the best decision about how and when to tell you. In the end we agreed to disagree.”

  I took a sip of coffee to moisten my mouth.

  “I can’t keep this from you anymore,” she said gravely. “Just can’t. Cameron will be pissed but he won’t fire me.” She tapped the folder. “I’ll be in my office. Come see me when you’ve read this. We knew you’d need proof when the time came.”

  When the time came.

  Scarlet left me alone with the folder. I slid my mug to the side, careful not to spill any. My mind raced with what might be inside. Richard, Cameron, and in fact everyone here had been keeping a secret from me.

  With an unsteady hand, I reached for the folder.

  HIS FACE STARED BACK in the photo.

  An older version of the man I’d once known as my father. My dad who was meant to have died when I was fourteen, yet these photos proved otherwise. His familiar strong jaw, that thick waft of hair now salt and pepper, and those intense brown eyes. The ones that had stared me down so many times as a child when I’d played in the sand pit too long or made a noise when his favorite show was on.

  Standing with my back pressed up against the lift gate, I eventually found my breath again and took those few short steps back to my desk and sat down. Hands trembling, I searched the file for evidence my mom might be alive too. All I found was her death certificate.

  In one of the photos my father was wearing a sunhat, and from the look of it he was working on a ranch. A vineyard, apparently, from the detective’s notes. Roscoe-Harvey Winery and Vineyards, in a placed called Yountville in the Napa Valley. My father lived merely a few hours away.

  The paperwork clarified how the private investigator had tracked him down. First following up on a lead that someone had been cashing in my father’s social security checks. Perhaps they thought it had been me. The investigator had followed the trail, soon locating the man who’d evaded my life for over seven years.

  In the same photo, a fortyish woman picked grapes alongside him. They were hugging. There was also a close-up of their wedding rings. My father had remarried.

  Panic stuck in my throat and forced a sob out of me.

  Lorraine had known about this all along. That’s why she’d sold his stuff and not kept anything. That’s why she’d not grieved. I needed to know why she’d not told me. Bile rose, bringing the stale taste of coffee.

  My dad was alive.

  And he had never once reached out to me. Surely he’d known the pain he’d caused me, the suffering of trying to make it without him? Surely he knew how much I loved and needed him? My mind raced on with all the reasons Richard had kept this from me. His own broken relationship with his father influenced his decision, no doubt.

  Grabbing the file I ran for the lift, ignoring Scarlet’s invitation to sob on her shoulder. I couldn’t be weak and ineffective. I needed to see my Dad.

  Now.

  As the lift descended my legs gave out and I slid down the mirrored wall, landing on the lift floor and hugged my knees into my chest.

  Still alive.

  Swiping tears away, I tried to focus on driving.

  Speeding toward Chrysalis, I knew Richard would have the answers I needed. How long had he known? Had he already reached out to my dad? I wouldn’t stay long at Chrysalis. I needed to get on the road to Napa. Maybe Richard would come with me. What lay between here and seeing my dad felt like an eternity.

  The manor loomed large on the horizon. I navigated too fast up the long driveway and leaves scraped along the right side of my window and a branch shoved my wing mirror back. Chrysalis was even more intimidating in the daylight. Parking farther down, I avoided the valet. The two men on duty were already busy greeting the arriving guests. One of the valets had a set of Louis Vitton luggage on a cart, having just removed them from the back of a BMW.

  Without the fog machine came a clearer view of the foyer. It reminded me of a five-star hotel, like the Bellagio in Las Vegas. The marble flooring, low ceiling, and soft lighting made everything look expensive. They even had a pretty brunette working behind a reception desk.

  Richard had told me only millionaires could afford to be here. I assumed the thirty-something woman who’d owned the BMW was one of them. She reminded me of Mrs. Sullivan. She regarded me critically.

  Oh no.

  Dominic stormed toward me. Gone was that toga I’d last seen him in and in its place he wore a flashy pinstriped suit.

  “Why, if it isn’t the director’s plaything,” he said.

  “Can you get Richard Booth for me please?” I sucked back tears.

  “What’s wrong?” Dominic reached for my arm. “Let’s hide you.”

  I pulled out of his grip. “I have to see Richard.”

  “Mr. Booth is in a board meeting. As is the director. Come, let’s have you wait in his office.”

  I pulled out of his grip.

  “What’s that?” He stared at the beige folder. The one I was currently clutching to my chest.

  He looked worried. “May I see it?”

  “Please, tell Mr. Booth I need to speak with him immediately.”

  He held his hand out. “Give it to me.”

  “Is Cameron here?” My tears welled. “Dr. Cole?”

  “Oh dear, please don’t. We have VIP’s arriving.” He gave a reassuring nod to Mrs. Sullivan’s look-alike. “You can’t be seen sniveling.” He snatched the folder.

  The contents went flying. Papers glided through the air and fanned around us, showing photo after photo of my father going about his business, thriving in his new life and no longer caring about those he’d left behind. The only clue to his selfish philosophy was his Ayn Rand book.

  I escaped Chrysalis.

  Driving at full speed towards the 5 freeway, hands shaking, wiping tears away, I knew there could be no other way but to face this alone. My iPhone rang but I ignored it and left it inside my handbag on the passenger’s seat. I didn’t want to talk. No one would understand this anyway.

  “Roscoe-Harvey Winery and Vineyards,” I made it a chant, having left the file scattered on Chrysalis’s marble tile.

  A mixture of hurt and hope welled within. A sense that if I could get over this betrayal a brighter future really did lay ahead. If I’d learned anything it had to be the wisdom of allowing others to open up in their own time and give them the space they needed until they were ready to share the reason for their decisions. Thinking of Richard and all he’d taught me brought comfort.

  Still...

  I’d been betrayed in the worst kind of way by the one person who was meant to protect me from these kind of horrors. Anger and relief wrapped around each other and it was hard to tell one from the other.

  A blue light flashed in my rearview mirror, followed by the wail of the police car’s siren.

  Oh no. Oh fuck.

  Blood pounded in my ears. With my indicator on I navigated across three lanes and pulled to a stop on the hard shoulder. Despite wanting to hide my face in my hands, I acted like nothing was amiss. I buzzed my window down and placed both hands on the wheel and watched the officer approach. My right wing mirror was still fli
pped back from its collision with Chrysalis’s foliage.

  The cop leaned low and peered into my window. “Turn off your engine, Ma’am.” He flipped open his notebook. “Driver’s license and registration.”

  He barely glanced at my license. “Ms. Mia Lauren?”

  “Yes.”

  “Step out of the vehicle, please.”

  “Why?”

  “Step out and lock your vehicle, please. Bring your valuables.” He glanced behind him at the speeding cars. “Careful please.”

  Gripping my right arm, he guided me around the back of my car and toward his patrol vehicle. Its light still flashed. Clutching my handbag into my chest I cringed; other drivers were catching this. The officer opened the rear door and gestured for me to get in. Somewhere in the far reaches of my mind I tried to remember if this was routine. Wasn’t he meant to give me a ticket and send me on my way? His partner, a young officer with a kind face, turned in his seat to peer back.

  “Your car will be towed,” he said. “No need to worry.”

  His colleague climbed back into the driver’s seat.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my car,” I said. “I got the oil fixed.”

  They swapped a glance with each other.

  “Please put your seatbelt on,” said the young officer.

  “Have I done something wrong?” I said.

  We took off smoothly and merged into in the slow lane. The other cars on the freeway gave us a wide berth. Abandoning my Mini felt horrible, as though somehow I’d let it down.

  The young officer turned and held out the contents of a yellow candy packet. “M & M?” He offered me one.

  Half in a daze, I reached in and took one. “Was I speeding?”

  “Yes,” he said, reaching into the bag himself and popping a candy into his mouth.

  Upon the central console flashed my driver’s license photo. The officer driving punched a few buttons and cleared the screen. The radio crackled and he replied in short bursts of lingo.

  The M & M was melting in my palm. I peered down at the small red oval of stickiness.

  “Which one would you take?” Scarlet had asked. “Red or blue?”

  I popped the candy into my mouth and sucked away on this surrealistic moment.

  We sped down the other side of the freeway, heading fast in the opposite direction of Napa Valley, and my heart ached with my failure to even get out of L. A. I considered phoning Richard but then again his meeting could keep him busy for hours and I wasn’t sure if I really wanted him knowing about this. Though his private detective would probably find out.