“Can I what?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“I want my Granddaddy to go to heaven knowing another Branch is on the way. And it would be nice for him to know it’s a boy that we are naming Atticus the Fourth.”
“Are there hidden cameras in here? Is this a joke? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I just…”
I could see the pain plastered across his face. I felt awful for making the joke, but this was just... insane. Who asked for this kind of thing? Coming from anyone else, it might’ve seemed like a prank. But Atticus was so genuine.
I reached for his hand to comfort him. Electricity shot through my body. It was an honest gesture, one that I really didn’t think twice about—but I should have. Because as soon as my hand touched his, Atticus froze. His gaze lifted and I swear he felt what I felt: that heavy, all-consuming desire to touch. More.
I cleared my throat and pulled my hand away, wishing I was daring enough to touch him longer.
“I wish it were a joke, Kate. I know this sounds insane. But I’d be willing to pay you anything. Anything you want.”
“While all of this is very flattering, Atticus,” I began slowly. God, I loved that name. I loved saying it. I gathered my thoughts carefully. After all, it’s not every day one is flown privately in a helicopter to the grandest estate ever seen! Continuing, I said, “I just…don’t think...” You’d be with a girl like me, I wanted to say. I wanted to burst out and sing, I’m still Jenny from the Block! I’m just a girl from Brooklyn. But this was a very grave, grave matter.
So I took a deep breath and explained, “I mean, what I’m trying to say is that considering how the other night went, I don’t think I quite fit in with your society friends. Wouldn’t, I mean, shouldn’t you be doing this with another woman? I’m sure there are dozens, if not hundreds, who would gladly sign up for this job.”
“But I want you.”
You want me? Holy hell. My lips pursed together and I held my breath waiting for him to go on.
“You mean you don’t get along with Brittany, who influences all of the other Junior League girls? There will always be mean girls. And don’t sell yourself short.”
I’m convinced my face must be purple by now from holding my breath. Oh my god, was he saying he was interested in me? A guy like that, with the face of a god?
“Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. But I have to go. I can’t be late for this function.”
“A midnight affair out here in the wilderness?”
“Something like that.”
He was dressed so handsomely in a tuxedo. It suddenly struck me that perhaps my job was being sidelined to someone else escorting him to an event.
I sat at the kitchen table feeling suddenly like a high school student with my ridiculous outfit on.
“I just needed an answer from you tonight so I could proceed with planning everything. He only has three months left. There’s a lot to orchestrate. Baby bumps, fake doctor visits, sonograms, I want to go the whole nine yards. And any woman who would be carrying my baby would be living with me. And this is perfect timing, with all of the family functions this week, which I’ll tell you more about it in the morning. But right now, you don’t have to worry about a thing. That’s if you agree to help me-- I really need your help.”
It all sounded so calculated and I wondered if maybe I had misjudged his intentions. Maybe it wasn’t real attraction I sensed between us. He was just desperate. Suddenly, this all felt like a science project. Something very logical, practical. Definitely not the romantic gesture I was playing out in my head.
I considered my circumstances carefully. I looked down at my sketchbook thinking about my own baby—my business. If this was the random deck of cards being dealt my way, I might as well take advantage of it all. I could keep things logical. I’d have to.
“$200,000,” I replied simply. That amount would take care of my debt, it would take care of marketing, licensing, pretty much everything needed for this company to have a proper launch. I felt butterflies of excitement at the possibility of being in a brick-and-mortar store with an industrial kitchen. I was surprised at myself for just blurting out the number like that. I hoped he wouldn’t think me vulgar or greedy. But he didn’t even blink an eye.
“It’s yours. Thank you, Kate. Now, please excuse me. I’ll have Bentley escort you to the sleeping quarters and I’ll have everything squared away for you. I’ll give more details tomorrow. Don’t worry about a thing.”
His expression brightened and I was thankful to see it. This could be a very mutually-beneficial business deal, it seemed. He spun around to leave and a skeleton key fell out of his pocket. I picked up the key quickly before he could see. He didn’t seem to notice.
Where was he going at this hour out in the middle of nowhere? And why wasn’t his driver taking him wherever it was? I knew it was probably a little early in our fake relationship to start asking paranoid, intrusive questions like this, but I couldn’t help feeling curious. I couldn’t shake it, I just had to know.
Then Bentley walked in, right on time.
“Are you ready, Miss Kate?”
Surprising myself again, I said, “Actually, there’s been a change of plans. Atticus is blindsided by his grief, his head’s in the clouds.” What was this-- the surprise variety hour of Kate Longhouse?
Bentley shook his head as if agreeing. I decided to keep going and see where my impulsive lying could take me.
“Well, Atticus has asked that I join him tonight at the uh, event. He wanted to go ahead, though, because he didn’t want to be late. He knows I take forever,” I lied nervously.
He looked over my outfit as if thinking, girl, you cannot go dressed like that. At least, that’s what I thought until I saw him look at me again more curiously. Uh oh, was he on to me? Did he smell my bluff?
“Funny thing is, I left my place so excited about you liking my cupcakes, I forgot my dress! Silly me!” I added quickly.
“Atticus’s head must really be in the clouds, then.”
He looked at me strangely. Was he on to me?
“You just don’t seem like the type of woman to, well, never mind. That’s not what I’m paid for, is it? There are dozens of dresses around here with all the cousins and the sisters, you’d think it was its own posh boutique,” he said kindly.
“Type of woman to what?”
“Please forgive me, Miss Kate, for interjecting my uh…why don’t you follow me? You’ll want to change quickly to not miss—to not be too far behind him. Did he leave you the key?”
“This ole thing?”
“That ole thing, indeed. Right this way.”
So he knew!
Huh.
Well, fuck me.
Chapter Eleven
Atticus
I let the key drop on purpose. I knew with her curious nature that she just might be the cat to follow the shiny new toy. Would she follow me? iPhone location sharing sure had its perks, and I would know very soon. A smile danced across my face.
You’re not taking your driver? A car’s picking you up? Out here in the middle of nowhere? She had asked me with great concern.
No I did not take my driver. I was hoping you would follow me.
Oh, it was a delicious thing to live life in daring possibilities.
What would she think of my nightlife activity? It would be a whole new world, sparkling like an elusive lost city made visible in the wee hours to dreamers deep in their REM cycles, when all forbidden and hidden desires nestled deep in the corners of their subconscious came to life and out to play. The driver pulled up the driveway of the estate that held our private, elusive, exclusive festivities.
Oh, there was another reason why I loved living in my country home hours away from Charleston.
Because I created this very place before my eyes.
Kate
The iron gates opened before us, revealing a beautifully lit, winding driveway, framed majestically by antique pillars with gas lanterns.
There was an almost gothic feel to it. And then I saw it.
A breathtaking multi-story Tudor estate, filled with so many flickering lights that out here in the middle of nature and the rolling hills, this home—hell, this castle—was lit up against the dark night like Times Square. There were so many windows, so many rooms. It was fit for a movie set to house Bruce Wayne, and I was almost certain I had seen something like this home before in a movie.
The car rolled slowly in front of the entrance, and I suddenly felt nervous. Great. Now what was the big plan.
“Well, allow me open your door, Miss Kate.”
Butterflies floated about my stomach, and knots the size of golf balls constricted tightly. I should leave. I shook my head, convincing myself to turn back around. Not to make a fool of myself.
But the car door opened, and Bentley reached for my hand to lift me out.
“You have your key?”
I nodded and stared at the clutch in my hand.
“Very well. I shall see you later.” He bowed his head in a gentlemanly fashion. His face was solemn as he stole a stare behind my face into the grand palace.
I stood watching the car lights disappear down the driveway, tempted to flag him down. But silly me, I didn’t have Bentley’s number!
I—
“Good evening, miss.” A voice behind me cut the dead silent night’s air.
I slowly spun around to see a man dressed in a tuxedo, wearing a top hat and holding a cane.
“Your key?”
“Oh, right. It’s uh, it’s in here.” I rummaged through the black clutch that did not even belong to me. None of this belonged to me! I didn’t even belong here! Why was I so curious?
The man lurked in the corner of the entryway, watching me as I turned the skeleton key through the intricate lock. It clicked, opening the very large door.
I didn’t know what I really was expecting to see, but this wasn't it.
There was not a single person in sight in this foyer, and I scanned the open space, regretting once again my stupid decision to crash Atticus’s late-night event.
There were six separate hallways that sprawled from the half-moon shaped entry way. With beautiful crown molding over the large archways, I felt like I was standing in a real-life castle, and a magical one at that. I wouldn’t even know where to go. I really wouldn’t! Especially since the hallways were darkened, and I couldn’t see a thing. They were like tunnels. It was strange seeing this, since the outside of the castle was so lit.
“What were you even thinking?” I whispered out loud to myself.
“Good morning, miss.” A woman’s seductive voice echoed off the high walls as I looked around to find where the voice was coming from. I instantly noticed the top of the ceiling. It was unlike anything I’d seen before. I imagined this to be what the gothic cathedrals in Europe to look.
Lost in my observations, I failed to see or hear the woman who called out to me.
No wonder I failed to see her. Not only was she wearing all black, but she wore a mask. It was a lace mask that covered the top half of her face. How strange.
“Here are tonight's coverings.” She handed me a black lace, which looked like the mask she had on.
“May I take your things, please?” Again, curiosity got the best of me, and before I could object and say I had made a mistake, that there had been a misunderstanding, she secured the mask over my hair, tightly, but not too tight. I didn't belong here, and the fact that she acted as if I were expected only added fuel to the fire.
"Personally, I enjoyed last party’s mask, but with tonight’s theme of sinners and saints, the black lace is quite appropriate. Especially with the upcoming Easter holiday."
I took everything in with great interest. How strange! I supposed this was some sort of dinner, and wearing this mask only made me feel little bit better in my relative anonymity, being able to see what Atticus was up to.
"There you go. You know the rules, but I am obligated to remind you to keep your mask on at all times, even while engaging, unless you really do not care about your identity.
Come to think of it, I could use a nice meal about now. I was, after all, taken from home hours ago, being whisked away here. What a night! And I sure worked up on heck of an appetite.
But then she held up something interesting that suggested something else. Was I at a costume party? Was it someone’s birthday I was crashing? It was a black teddy lingerie. It was high-wasted, as what was in style right now, and the top plunged very deep down the front. It suddenly dawned on me that someone, as in people, would see me in this revealing outfit if I chose to keep going further with this evening. Was all of this really worth it?
Yes.
“You can change right in here.” She held out her hand in the direction of a door and then led me the way.
Atticus
I took a sip of my scotch, refreshing my iPhone every minute, pleased and delighted that she had taken the bait and was now here.
I had instructed Maranda of the special instructions for Kate the moment I saw the red dot and action over the map, indicating that Elvis had left the building, and she was on her way.
My date was at the door. I had called her, as being the owner and created creator of this special establishment gave me special privileges through my phone. All other phones were carefully kept in a secret location for each guest, until it was time to leave.
Chapter Twelve
Kate
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I carefully put on the black lace teddy. What was I doing here, following Atticus out like this? What was the logic in this?
Nowhere, because logic didn’t exist in this scenario!
And as for this outfit? I studied the sexy contraption, a designer lace teddy I’d seen on billboards and Victoria’s Secret commercials lately. And while yes, a part of me always wanted to feel feminine and wear something like this:
A. I didn’t have the money
B.I never had the time, and
C. Who would I even wear it for?
Now all three previously good reasons floated out the window.
Money was no longer a factor; neither was time. And I’d wear it for him.
It was a beautiful, yet fragile, piece of lingerie. Any sudden moves and that delicate number could rip, making the whole damn thing fall apart. That was the last thing I needed, so I carefully slid it on.
I turned around, taking in the designer cut in the back, and how it revealed my derriere. There was practically nothing covering my ass.
Um, earth to Kate. Do you really want to prance out like this in sea full of strangers?
My eyes danced over my appearance in mischievous wonder. I had a mask on. And when you wear a mask, anything is possible, right? You’re allowed to become another person. It’s just the grand rule of every costume party.
What now?
The only way to find out was to walk out.
So that I did.
I walked out of the dressing room, here in God knows where in the middle of this freaking mansion, all the while knowing that this was a huge risk. But if there were any way to risk something, it was with a mask on.
Gosh. I couldn’t believe I had even gotten this far!
“Here you go.” The waitress handed me a glass of champagne, which I gladly accepted to calm my nerves. I nearly dropped my flute from my sweaty fingers and shaking hand. “Are you ready?”
I nodded. I wasn't sure what I was ready for, but why the hell not? Six pathways lie before me; which one would my borrowed heels take?
She led me to the second archway on the right. As soon as my feet tread into the entrance, light burst from everywhere, illuminating my view. Before me were twenty or so beautifully lit grand crystal chandeliers, sparkling in their luminescent glory. What once was dark was now dazzling with light. The entire scene was breathtaking and mesmerizing.
A Sinners and Saints party.
That’s what she’d said it was. Was I Sinner…or
Saint?
She continued leading me down the corridor, past different doors that each contained different sounds behind them.
Past one door, I heard an abundance of laughter.
We walked further, and I heard china clanking against beautiful violins and string quartets.
As we passed yet another door I overheard the sounds of moaning. An erotic chorus of sounds seeped from underneath the door’s crack, causing me to stop in my tracks.
What the fuck was going on and what was this?
“Come along, please.” My escort instructed in a clandestine effort to move me along whilst maintaining discretion.
My heart doubled its speed as we continued our journey, my mind racing with confusion and nervousness as I attempted to figure out what I was walking into.
She finally stopped at another door. I strained to hear something, anything, but it was serenely quiet.
“I believe what you're looking for is through this door.”
“Is… is it?”
She nodded.
“Have fun,” She cooed, propping her elbow on her hip. Her dark painted eyes sparkled seductively behind the mask as she stared at me. “Go ahead,” she urged. “You may open the door.”
Gulp.
I slowly turned the gold handle as I listened to the clicks of her heels as she began sauntering away.
To my surprise, there he was, Atticus, sitting on the edge of the sleigh bed with a mask on, holding a drink in his hand. I knew it was him because I knew his suit. I knew his signature ring. I knew him.
I don’t know what surprised me more.
Seeing him, or seeing all of those adult toys displayed in clear cases. They were framed in gold on the wall behind him. And no, they weren’t Toys R Us toys.
They were adult toys.
What the fuck was this?
You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to put this all together—
Bed. Toys. Lingerie.
This was some sort of high-class sex party.
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