The Logan Brothers - Books 1-4: (EXPOSURE, CRASH, TWIN PASSIONS, and ADDICTED TO YOU)

by Shorter, L. A.

  When Tess came knocking at lunchtime I filled her in on what happened.

  “Damn girl, this room needs some love.” That was the first thing she said to me when I opened it up to her at about midday. She hadn't seen it properly since Jen had left.

  She was overly chatty, still buoyed by the booze in her blood, talking excitedly about her antics the previous night: it seemed the night had morphed into some sort of monster fetish orgy after I'd left, everyone given some sort of anonymity by the outfits and masks they were wearing. It sounded like something out of Eyes Wide Shut - a sex masquerade party with halloween costumes. Damn was I glad I left when I did.

  After she was done with the gory details - that I really didn't want to hear by the way - I told her about the guy with the V mask, the guy who broke into my dorm.

  She had no explanation, but reacted just as I'd expect her to. Go the the campus police. Go to the real police. Report it. Do something!

  Of course, I knew there was no point to any of that. First off, what the hell could they do? Secondly, would they really care? College hijinks, nothing more, they'd say. I dunno, maybe they were right. Whatever the case, best to put it out of my mind, I had a lot bigger fish to fry.

  I told Tess, politely as possible, to piss off, dropping my head back into my books to polish up my paper and pushing everything else from my mind. That's something I'd always been good at - pushing unpleasant thoughts out of my head. Growing up the way I did it was a skill I had needed to learn.

  Mid afternoon I heard another knock at the door. “Alice, are you in there?” I recognized the voice from the day before. That warm and smooth voice.

  “If you're looking for Jen, Kyle, she's not in I'm afraid,” I shouted from across the room. “I told you already, she's moved out.”

  “I'm not here for Jen, I'm here to speak to you.”

  I dropped my pen and picked my head up from my books. “Huh? I don't know you.” I spoke. I had no time for nonsense.

  “I know that. I wanted to apologize.”

  “For what?”

  There was a short silence before he spoke again. “Last night.”

  A frown inched across my face. “That's OK, Kyle. You only disturbed me for a moment. Instead of apologizing about that, maybe you should leave me alone right now? I've got lots of work to do.”

  “No, I'm not apologizing about coming here yesterday, well, not during the day at least.”

  My heart fell to the floor. It was him, last night. It was him in the mask.

  I walked slowly towards the door. “Who are you?” I asked, my words cautious.

  “Please, let me in and I'll tell you. I have a proposition for you Alice, something you may be interested in.”

  Who the fuck was this guy. He comes looking for Jen, then sneaks back into my room when I'm out later that night dressed like a creepy comic book character, and now he's telling me he's got a proposition for me. I didn't even know him, had never properly met him.

  “Erm, I'm not really interested in anything you have to say. You broke into my fucking room last night!”

  “OK, OK, I'm sorry for that.” I looked through the peephole as he spoke, his stubble slightly thicker than before, owing to an extra days growth, his blue eyes apologetic, his wavy hair swept back behind his head. He was achingly manly, his chin and jawline cast from stone, his voice so deep and smooth.

  “Please Alice, let me apologize, let me explain why I'm here.”

  He sounded earnest, sounded genuine. Even though I didn't trust him, my curiosity was spiked too high for me to give this up. In any case, he didn't look to me a man to stop at the first hurdle. I had a feeling that if I didn't hear him out, he'd be coming back anyway.

  “Look, I don't feel safe letting you in. I'll meet you down the road at the cafe on the corner in ten minutes.”

  “Sounds fair,” he said. “I'll look forward to it.”

  I watched as he walked away, turning the corner at the end of the corridor and spinning around to down the stairs. I looked to the mirror by the sink in the corner of the room and shuddered at the sight of me. I looked so pale, so tired, so drained - like one of those ghoulish masks I'd seen people wearing last night.

  Yuck!

  I don't know why I cared but I did. I quickly applied some light make-up and dragged my most dashing woollen jumper from my closet, pulling on a pair of tight jeans and wrapping a heavy scarf around my neck. OK, here we go.

  ....

  A few minutes later I was standing outside the cafe looking in through the glass. Inside I could see him - Kyle - casually stirring a large cup. I hesitated briefly before stepping in through the door, the bell clanging lightly as it opened.

  He quickly looked up, our eyes meeting properly for the first time, and I stepped forward. He stood quickly as I approached and held out his hand. I extended my own and took it. It was large and strong, but his touch gentle.

  “It's nice to meet you officially Alice,” he said, smiling. I struggled to withdraw my gaze from his white teeth, flashing between his dimpled cheeks, his dusty stubble helping to define his jawline. Jesus Christ he was even more beautiful without a door between us. His face held no imperfections, no a blemish, not a thing out of place. His eyes were even bluer than I'd thought, contrasting against his dark hair, his features strong, yet soft.

  “And you,” I said on autopilot, forgetting momentarily that this was the guy who'd broken into my room.

  “Let me get you a drink,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No, I can't stay. I'm just here to find out what you have to say.”

  “With an aim to being hasty then, I'll cut right to the chase. Jen worked for me, that's why I was looking for her. She had an obligation to meet, but she failed to do so. I hope that explains my fervor at trying to track her down.”

  “I suppose,” I said, nodding. I understood all too well that employers were never that happy when someone failed to turn up to work.

  “It was a matter of some sensitivity, so I was instructed to trace her by all means necessary. That is why I broke into your room. I had to be sure you were telling the truth. I had to be sure that she was actually gone. I never expected you to return so soon from the party.”

  “Yes, I saw you there, in the V for Vendetta mask.”

  He smiled and laughed lightly. “Ah yes, so crude, I know. I was there seeing if I could find her. A long shot, but worth the small effort it took.”

  He lowered his eyes slightly, peering directly at me with a more serious tone to his voice. “I hope I didn't frighten you as you woke?”

  I laughed gently. “You're kidding, right? Of course you frightened me! I'm not Sigourney-fucking-Weaver.”

  “Allow me to make it up to you.” The words came suddenly, as if he didn't expect to say them himself.

  I leaned back in my chair. “How?”

  “Let me take you to dinner. Let me apologize properly.”

  OK, now he must have been kidding! “Dinner? With you? You must think I'm insane.”

  A look of hurt washed over his face, quickly hidden once more under his confident visage. “Just an offer,” he said blankly, “no strings attached.”

  I pondered it for a moment as I looked at him. Tess had been begging me to date a few guys recently, telling me to lighten up. Yeah, easy for her to say, she didn't have to worry about money like I did. But maybe she was right? Maybe it would make for a nice distraction? But this guy? Really?

  “I know nothing about you though. What do you do? What was Jen doing for you?”

  “I run a club. She worked for me there.”

  Ah, so that explained the late nights.

  “Really?” I asked, my interest piqued. “Any work going?” I said casually, jokingly
.

  His reply came quick. “There is now.”

  “Oh, you mean Jen's job? So what exactly did she do? Bar work? Waitressing? I've got plenty of experience with both if that's what you're looking for.”

  What the hell was going on! How had I gotten myself into a job interview situation with this guy?! I bit my tongue. My need to find work was overriding all the warning signs that were flaring up in my head.

  I could see him sizing me up, my desperation so obvious. “She was in client services. Look, how about that dinner. I'll tell you all about it then?”

  Suddenly the idea of dinner sounded a lot more appealing. If it might lead to a job, what could be the harm. Right now I'd take just about anything, at least until I found something better. Plus, it sounded like a night time gig, and that was just what I was looking for. Screw going out and socializing in the evening - my life wasn't that easy. Days for college work, nights for paid work: that's how things had always been.

  “Sure,” I said, my guard dropping, “I'll take you up on the offer.”

  He smiled once more, wider than before, his blue eyes burning into me. “Perfect,” he said, “tomorrow night, 8 PM.” It didn't sound like a question or option, but an order.

  “That works,” I said nodding.

  “Great, I'll come to your room, again,” he said, a playful slant to his words. “One more thing before I go. What's your surname?”

  “Newton, it's Alice Newton.”

  “Great to meet you Miss Newton. I'm Kyle, Kyle Logan.”

  Chapter 7

  I opened the door to the knock, my heart bumping against my chest so hard I was sure he'd be able to see it bulging.

  “Miss Newton,” Kyle said, “you look stunning.”

  I blushed slightly at his words. The only time I ever got complemented was when Tess did it, or maybe some drunk guy on a night out telling me I was 'so fucking hot' or some equally unappealing compliment. To hear a guy like this - a bloody Adonis - tell me I was stunning made my knees go weak.

  “You ready to go?”

  I nodded, my words still choked at the back of my throat. I felt like a giddy little girl inside. A job date, Alice, this is only a job date.

  He led me down the stairs and out towards the parking lot at the front of the building. He was wearing a suit, fitted tight to his body, his hair swept back tidily, his face now clean of the rough stubble that was present the day before. His jawline lost none of its sharpness without it.

  “Which is yours?” I asked as I followed in his wake, struggling slightly to keep up on the icy ground.

  “Right here,” he said, stopping at an Aston Martin. There were a few rich kids that I knew in my dorms, but Kyle's car still stood out like a sore thumb. I felt particularly embarrassed by the fact that he was parked directly opposite my own clapped out banger.

  He opened the passenger door for me and I stepped into the lush brown leather interior. The door opposite opened and he ducked in himself, gunning the engine which roared to life. A burst of heat hit my face as he turned on the heater - warm air, nothing else, not like the heater in my car that carried a heavy stink to it.

  He gripped the gear stick like a racing driver and hit the accelerator, sending the car lurching forward like a bullet.

  “How far is it,” I asked over the roar of the engine. I wasn't overly fond of fast driving, especially over ice.

  “Not far,” he said, glancing over to me with a slight wink. “Settle in, we'll be there soon.”

  He wasn't lying. It only took ten or so minutes before the car began slowing and he pulled into a car park on the side of the road.

  I opened the door and stepped out myself before he could round the car to open it for me. This wasn't a date, just a job interview. Let's keep it all official.

  The concierge at the front of the restaurant stood to attention immediately as Kyle walked through the front doors. “Mr Logan, your table is all prepared for you as you like it.”

  “Thank you Tim,” he said, slipping him a note as he led us through the main restaurant towards a door at the back. It looked like a $50 bill.

  The concierge opened the door to a small-ish room, a single table in the middle, a bottle of champagne sitting in a cooler to the side. “I'll send your waiter in for your order shortly Mr Logan.”

  Kyle nodded again and the man left, shutting the door behind us and plunging the room into silence. The room was simple and doused in reds across the walls, the lighting dim and romantic.

  “I enjoy a level of privacy when I dine,” Kyle said, seeing the look on my face. “It allows me to speak freely, without prying ears.”

  He walked to the table and pulled out my chair. “Please, take a seat.”

  I sat as he reached for the bottle of champagne in the cooler and poured two glasses. He handed one to me before sitting down, holding his glass aloft and saying “cheers.”

  I felt suddenly awkward. This wasn't what I was expecting at all - champagne, a private dining room. I thought we'd be off to Nando's for a chicken dinner and a quick chat. At least that's what I usually got on my dates.

  “You're a brave girl, aren't you Alice,” he said suddenly as he placed his glass back down on the table.

  A shot of nerves pulsed through my body at his words. “How do you mean?”

  “Perhaps brave is the wrong word - trusting might be more appropriate. I'm not sure many girls would have agreed to take this date after the way we met!”

  Date - it was just a job interview/dinner, that's the only way I was looking at it.

  “I suppose so, but I don't have the luxury of being picky.”

  His face turned to a frown. “I'd have thought that someone as beautiful as you could be as picky as they like?”

  “Oh, no, no, I didn't mean it like that. I'm talking about the job - this is a job date isn't it? An interview?”

  His voice suddenly hardened, it's light tone thickening. “Yes, it is.”

  There was a short silence before he spoke again.

  “So tell me, are you working right now?”

  I put on my official voice, my interview voice. “Not currently, no.”

  “But you're looking for work? What sort of thing are you interested in?”

  I could feel the desperation creeping into my voice, my words being rushed out. “Um yes, anything really. Like I told you before, I've got lots of experience waiting tables and working behind the bar. Um, I'm a quick learner and am reliable, hard-working...”

  He held up his hand to silence me and my words dropped to the floor. “Alice, you don't need to read me your CV.”

  My body deflated slightly and I could feel my face going slightly red - it always did that when I felt embarrassed.

  “There are other characteristics you possess, other than being hard-working and reliable, that I am interested in.”

  My eyes narrowed slightly, my brows falling down over them. “Like what?”

  “The work is largely looks based. It isn't a matter of experience and skills. What you know currently is irrelevant.”

  I was getting really confused now. “Looks based?”

  “Yes Alice. You're a stunning young girl. You don't seem to realize that. You hide it.”

  I looked down at the table as his eyes pierced me. I never saw myself like that, never made the effort to look as good as I could like other girls. With everything going on in my life the idea of being good looking wasn't that important to me, it hadn't been since I was younger.

  “Alice, I don't like to waste anyone's time and I certainly don't like to have my time wasted. It's precious, and one commodity I'm not going to get back. So, let me be very open and honest with you.”

  He paused and took a sip of champagne.

>   “The club I run has a very specific clientele, and they have very specific tastes. They like to watch beautiful women remove their clothing and dance. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.”

  Yeah I knew what he was talking about. A strip club - he must have been fucking kidding me.

  “Stripping, you want me to work as a stripper?” I said incredulously.

  He nodded lightly, as if it was a completely normal request. “I told you I'd be frank and that's what I'm doing. I'm not going to sugar coat it Alice, but suffice to say there are levels that our girls agree to. Some just dance in their underwear, others strip topless, and others go nude. It is up to you what you agree to, but the money reflects the level of skin on show.”

  Screw this. I thought I was going to be interviewed for bar work or waiting tables, not this. What the hell did this guy take me for.

  “I can see what you're thinking Alice,” he said, interrupting my train of thought. “I've seen the same look in the eyes of so many girls: that look of disgust, or superiority. It's an understandable reaction, one I'd expect from anyone. But just think - you could earn in one night what you'd make in a month waiting tables. And what are you really doing? Showing off your beautiful body, something you should be proud of, be happy to share. The club is very exclusive, no riff raff, no touching, no busy hands. We take care of our girls - no one fucks with them.”

  He was making it sound like that's where my objection lay - that I was worried about handsy customers and leering drunks. No, what I was worried about was dancing for money, standing there in front of someone in my birthday suit. I'd fallen, but not that low.

  I stood up from the table to leave, ready to storm out and leave him there alone. As I turned from the table he spoke once more, his words carrying to my ears in the quiet of the room.

  “It's all private, all monitored, all one on one,” he continued calmly, his voice not raising, like he'd been through this routine so many times. “Think about it Alice, you're a real prize, you're a stunning girl. Use it.”