“I don’t want to scare her off,” Robyn said. “She’s ideal for one important reason.”
“If that’s the only reason she qualifies we should get rid of her and find someone more experienced.”
“It’s too late for that, Charity.”
My mind screamed at me that I should chuck in my heels and get the Hell out of there. A vision of Nathan’s mocking smile filled my head. I knew I couldn’t betray my dreams.
I took a deep breath and knocked at the door, entered while apologizing and explained I’d forgotten my bag.
They both smiled with narrow eyes and wished me luck as I renewed my journey.
I smiled as sweetly as I could, even though I was screaming inside as I re-joined Mai at the bottom of the stairs.
EIGHT
Alice’s Journal
I stood in the open doorway of Mai’s apartment and wanted to scream. The place was a palace. Marble walls, antique oak flooring and a maze of rooms I’d need a map to negotiate. But it was the view through the floor to ceiling windows that really took my breath away.
A penthouse suite with a three hundred and sixty degree view over the rooftops of the entire campus and the surrounding Kimberley woods to the lake. It was a lifestyle that less than a day ago I thought would never be mine. I fought back a tear.
I turned to Mai. “What’s the catch?”
Mai shrugged. “It takes a year to clean.”
I glanced at Mai’s three inch long ornate painted fingernails. “I can imagine.”
“Fortunately we have a cleaner who comes by. Though I can never find her. But she does a good job. So is it OK?”
I couldn’t figure out if Mai was being modest or smug.
“I guess I could slum it a while if it makes you happy.”
We both laughed.
“I’ll show you to your room. It used to be Robyn’s.”
The first thing I noticed inside the huge room was the suitcases neatly piled up on the floor.
“Hey, I recognize those,” I said. “They’re mine.”
I opened the first case. It was empty.
“What gives, Mai?”
Mai pointed to a door. “See for yourself.”
I placed the leather file of Michael Maddox on a Queen Anne antique table next to a four poster bed.
I opened the door to a walk-in closet. On one side a rack ran along one entire wall. I recognized my clothes neatly hanging. But on the other side of the room, a longer rack was filled with designer dresses.
“They’re even in my size,” I said and shook my head in disbelief.
Mai giggled. “Sorority Eyes are nothing if not efficient.”
“This is just unbelievable.”
“I’ll make coffee. See you in the kitchen in ten?”
I bit my bottom lip. “Remind me, where’s the kitchen?”
“Just follow the smell of coffee.”
Mai left.
I picked up the leather file, kicked off the uncomfortable heels and stretched out on the bed. It was the most comfortable bed I’d ever experienced. I wanted it to swallow me up into its divine luxuriousness.
I opened the leather file. A picture of Michael Maddox made my throat instantly grow dry. I swallowed hard.
He was gorgeous. Tanned. Tall. Athletic. Green eyes that seemed to burn right through me and a mop of brown hair, accentuated by his chiseled jawline.
“No sex!” I reminded myself wistfully.
There was a brief biography. Michael Maddox. Born to a French cosmetics heiress mother and American father who was banker and US ambassador to France. Educated at the finest schools around the world. Kicked out of several for ‘an uncontrollably independent minded behavior’... whatever that meant.
Graduated top of his class. A rowing medal at Oxford against Cambridge in the grueling annual televised boat race along London’s Thames River. Trained in several martial arts. Plays piano to grade eight level. Non-smoker. Keeps fit. Keen competitor in triathlons.
Parents killed in a car accident in the Swiss Alps. The same year he cut himself of from all his school friends. Known for reclusive behavior and never sleeps in the same bed more than two nights in a row. Hence a private property portfolio of some of the most expensive homes in the world.
So, Mister Gorgeous, you’re paranoid about something or someone. But what are you so afraid of?
There were other details of less interest. Apparently he had the same blood type as me. What was rather intriguing was to note that a page seemed to be missing. It had been carefully, almost expertly sliced out of the document, but one staple was scuffed and slightly raised. Underneath it was a slither of paper caught on the staple.
I wondered what was so important to remove. I hated not knowing everything there was to know. But I assumed if I was meant to know they would have left the information inside for me to read. Asking might just make them change their mind about employing me and I needed the money. I decided to let it go, or if that was impossible to at least push it to the back of my mind for now.
I left the file on the bed as I freshened up in the en-suite bathroom and then joined Mai in the kitchen.
“Any questions, Alice?”
“Only, when will I wake up and realize this is all a dream?”
Mai chuckled. “You’ll find your stride soon enough.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“There must be many girls more beautiful, smarter, more capable and experienced at this sort of thing than me. So why did Maddox pick me?”
Mai avoided my intense gaze and simply mumbled, “Why indeed?”
NINE
Alice’s Journal
A sleek private jet taxied to a halt. A door opened and as a set of air-stairs lowered to the tarmac, I took a deep breath. A pretty, slim young Asian woman in a hostess uniform stood at the top of the air-stairs and impatiently beckoned me. She introduced herself as Sui Lee.
She was joined by a tall and curvaceous young Latin woman. The Latin hostess introduced herself as Klara as if I was supposed to kiss her hand. She sauntered over to me like she was about to shoo away a dog for leaving a bad smell in the air.
Her enviable curves strained against her tight uniform. When she took my overnight case and stowed it in an overhead compartment I thought her breasts were about to explode out of her shirt and into my face.
Their fake plastic smiles didn’t hide the contempt they held for me in their eyes. I squeezed by them and was directed into the interior cabin. It was lined with polished walnut and marble and accommodated eighteen empty seats. The faint odor of fresh lavender brought a welcome sense of calm to the butterflies in my stomach.
I shot a quizzical look at Klara’s blazing eyes.
“Mister Maddox will join you on arrival,” Klara explained.
For the rest of the journey they ignored me until the plane touched down in New York. It was dusk.
Awaiting me on the tarmac was a limousine. It took me into Manhattan to a private ballet school theater.
I was given a golden ticket by the chauffeur and told to present myself.
Inside I was guided to a private box balcony overlooking the main circle of seats. It had a perfect view of the stage.
The lights dimmed and the curtains raised. A performance of Swan Lake began and yet there was no sign of Michael Maddox. After twenty minutes I gave myself a crick in the neck from constantly turning towards the door to my private box. I told myself he had bailed on me and decided to enjoy the rest of the performance.
By the second act I was so absorbed by the exquisite dancing that I didn’t at first notice the shadow of a figure stood behind me.
I felt a shiver down my spine. It was like a feather sensually awaking a deep desire and yearning inside me. I suddenly remembered where I was and jolted. I spun around to see a man’s lips on my shoulders.
I was about to scream and push him away when a stage light revolved and caught his perfect smile. He was more go
rgeous that his perfect photographs.
“Michael Maddox, at your service,” he said with a rich, deep voice that sent the butterflies in my stomach into a panic.
He was dressed in a custom made black tuxedo and crisp white silk shirt open wide. A black silk bow tie remained loose around his neck. His breath was the stench of a mixture of whiskey and sex.
Despite the lingering sensation on my spine or because of it I blurted out, “I’m not your sloppy seconds, so don’t get any ideas,”
Several heads in nearby boxes turned.
“Shhh!”
Only then did I realize I’d utterly failed to disguise my contempt.
Maddox sat heavily in the chair adjacent and stared at me with a bemused expression.
He slowly shook his head and whispered, “No date ever speaks to me like that.”
“Maybe you should find a better class of date.”
He chuckled. “Maybe I should. Are you hungry?”
My mission objective flashed through my mind. I nodded.
This was going to be a long night.
“Good,” he said. He led me to the theater’s restaurant. It was elegant, sophisticatedly lit and completely empty.
“I guess everyone is still watching the ballet,” he slurred.
We took the best table with a breath taking three hundred and sixty degree view of Manhattan.
Holding a candle near my face he stared at me and shook his head. “It’s just not possible.”
I rolled my eyes. “What? I have a Booger on my nose? I have two heads? What?”
He shook his head.
“Just so we’re clear, Mister Maddox. We’re not having sex, OK?”
He was in such a state I wasn’t sure if he’d even heard me.
When the waiter approached, Maddox stood as if to go. “Madam will eat and drink whatever she wishes. Charge it to the Maddox account.”
He kissed my hand. “I have a pressing engagement elsewhere.”
Yeah, right! Clearly dumped for some harlot more ready to open her legs.
Maddox turned to me, “My car will take you back to the jet, whenever you’re ready.”
When the waiter walked away I whispered, “But you can’t leave already.”
His sneer said it all, but he said it anyway. “Don’t worry, your agency has already been paid.”
“Is it because I won’t have sex with you?”
He said nothing.
With that he hurriedly left. I suddenly wasn’t hungry. I finished a glass of very fine red wine and left to find my ride with a dejected feeling I had whole heartedly ruined the evening and any chance of accomplishing my first mission.
The ride back to the airport was less a fairy tale and more a long road back to a bleak future.
TEN
The journal of Michael Maddox.
I know was I was drunk, but that was no excuse for my poor behavior. When I saw those beautiful, slender, naked shoulders I couldn’t resist. I thought she was like all the others. Easy on the eye and just, well... easy.
I had to have her.
I still can’t get out of my mind the moment she turned in her seat and faced me. It was uncanny. Like I was dreaming. She was a vision. It was impossible, but there she was before my eyes.
A ghost of love had stepped into my waking consciousness to haunt me. Was it fate that she could be in my life? Or was it something more sinister?
All I knew was I needed to get the Hell out of there. Find space and time to think it through.
The look of contempt on her face even now stabs through my heart. There is nothing else for it. I had to know the truth. No matter what memories it dragged up to torture me.
ELEVEN
Alice’s Journal
“Some men are turned on by women who hold them in contempt,” Mai said to me the next morning over breakfast. “Others prefer complete acceptance for who and what they are before they can even get it up.”
“You think I scared him off?” I asked.
“Did you?”
I shrugged. “I tried to like him. I just got the feeling he took an instant dislike to me.”
The doorbell rang. Mai let in Charity and Robyn.
Charity stormed over to me. “What the fuck, Alice?”
I fought back tears. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” I turned to Mai. “I’ll move out straight away.”
Mai smiled and glanced at Robyn.
Robyn sat down beside me and patted my shoulder. “I don’t know what you said to Michael Maddox, but you set the record.”
“I tried,” I cried. “I really did, but he just brought out such antipathy in me. I tried to make up for it, but he clearly hates me.”
Robyn’s eyes widened. “Hates you?” She and Charity burst into laughter.
“Alice, Michael Maddox called me last night, begging to see you again. He offered triple the usual fee.”
I blinked like a rabbit in headlights.
“Sorry, I misheard. What did you say?”
Robyn smiled. “You passed with flying colors, Alice. He wants to see you tomorrow night. Same routine. Is your passport up to date?”
“My passport? Sure, I think so. Why?”
“This time you’re off to Paris, France.”
I shook my head. “He wants to see me again? But why?”
“Who cares why? Just promise me one thing.”
I felt a wave of relief roll through me. “Yes, anything.”
“Whatever you doing is working. So keep it up.”
As the realization sunk in I felt like I’d just been saved from drowning and washed up on a strange, alien shore. I was filled with mixed emotions. Relief, yes that my dream of university life was still intact. But also feelings of trepidation and even excitement for meeting a man who brought out the worse in me.
TWELVE
Alice’s Journal
On our next date, a limousine took me to Kimberley airport to meet the waiting jet. The same two obnoxious hostesses greeted me. This time their contempt was a little less frosty.
I soon discovered why. Once inside the jet, I was greeted by Michael Maddox in person.
He was dressed casually. In straight leg navy blue jeans, white sneakers and a white t-shirt. It did nothing for him but accentuate his rippling muscular figure.
I tried not to stare.
He leaned into me, kissing my cheek and scrapping my skin with his two day stubble. He whispered to me, “Don’t mind Rosa and Sui Lee, they’re just jealous of us.”
“Us?”
He motioned for me to take a seat on a leather couch next to him. “You and me?”
He smiled that infuriately perfect smile of his, but his eyes seemed somehow sad.
“You’re expecting me to apologize for the other night.”
This was going to be awkward. “Am I?”
He studied my eyes. “But you’re thinking I disgusted you.”
I sighed. “Perhaps we can start over.”
His eyes lit up. “I’d like that. Really, if you get to know me, I’m sure you’ll at least get to...”
His words dwindled into a strangely unfocused stare.
I cleared my throat. “Get to what, Mister Maddox?”
He snapped out of it and his smile returned. “At least hate me a little less. So call me Michael, Alice.”
Drinks arrived and we toasted the prospect of new beginnings.
“So where are you taking me on our first proper date?”
He put down his champagne glass. “I must confess it’s sort of a work function. A gathering of the great and the good, the bad and the downright ugly. Oh, and us of course.”
“I was wondering in which category you were placing me.”
I couldn’t help stroking my thigh through the dress he had made for me. A traditional Chinese silk wrap-around design traditional.
“Tell me more, Michael.”
He flushed hot and shifted in his seat. “Well, it’s nothing really. Just a function I ha
ve to attend.”
“Anything that makes the great Michael Maddox flush hot has to be important.”
He shook his head. “No, really I wish I didn’t have to attend.”
He steered the conversation away from him onto my personal history. Which, I had to grant him, he at least outwardly found fascinating. For the next several hours I talked and he listened. At first I found it a little disconcerting. Where I was used to seeing a man’s eyes glaze over, his were vibrant. Soaking up my every word. Almost on fire as he hung onto my every word as I talked about my childhood, my hopes and dreams.
“I’m sure you will achieve everything you set your mind to, Alice.”
“Why are you so interested?” I asked.
He laughed. “I suppose you’re used to men pretending to listen because they think it’s going to get you closer to their bed?”
“Am I wrong?”
He pursed his lips together, “There’s just something about you that’s... different.”
“Different? That’s a ringing endorsement is it?”
“For me, it most certainly is.”
I tried to steer the conversation onto his business. “Michael, you must be very accomplished in business to afford this lifestyle? What do you do?”
“I’m retired.”
“After a lifetime of working?”
We both laughed.
Once again, he adeptly steered the conversation away from him and began to regale me with stories of his childhood on a simple farm in France.
“I climbed lemon trees, chased hogs away from weekend hunters and washed in the local river flowing through the farm. So I’m just a simple country boy at heart.”
“The simple boy with the simple tastes?”
“Sure I love the finer things in life. Art, music, women,” he said as his eyes undressed me.
“You must allow me to take you to the Louvre museum while we are in Paris.”
He then proceeded to tell me about his favorite art and I found the depth of his knowledge and his passion for the subject to be breath-taking. Such a breath of fresh air compared to conversations with men like Nathan that usually revolved around could I scratch their back and while I was at it, could I lend them some money.
Sorority Secrets (Campus Love and Murder Sorority Eyes Romance Book 2) Page 3