The Executive's Red, #1

by Leeanna White

  Sara walks across the white tiled floor and I follow. I look up in awe to the fourth floor, noticing the great chandeliers hung on different levels. She goes behind the bar and flicks on yet more lights, then she takes a bottle of wine out from the fridge.

  I feel lost in this massive space. When the place was full to the rafters with partygoers, I didn’t notice all the small details which make this a club unlike any other. From the tiled edging around the vast dance floor, to the fancy handles on the doors. I hover a few steps back, taking in the magnificence of the building.

  Sara opens a wooden cabinet as I make my way back to the bar. She takes out six high-cut crystal whiskey glasses, and places them on a tray. Then, while wiping her hand on her skirt, she presses a button on a small grey intercom on the wall.

  “Yes,” Mr Knight’s voice calmly echoes through the speaker.

  Sara pushes the button to reply. “Mr Knight, Miss Lovell is here.”

  “Good evening Miss Lovell. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Oh, I don’t think my heart can take this. I twiddle my fingers as my fever climbs. I can’t keep my legs still. It’s hard enough being around him without wanting to implode. Never mind meeting his close friends and trying to make a good first impression.

  I peer down at my pumps and jeans. I should take this jacket off and at least make myself look less, what’s the word, scruffy. God, I should have chosen a dress. You’re a stubborn fool Liz.

  Sara watches as I eagerly tear my damp jacket from my arms. She pours me half a glass of wine and slips it my way. I smile with a lip quiver and pick up the glass, flinging my jacket over the bar. After last night I should be throwing up at the sight of the stuff, but now, I need it. I’m heading right for borderline alcoholic status here.

  I rest the rim on my bottom lip and as soon as I tilt my hand, Mr Knight, out from nowhere, steps before me and pulls down the glass. His lips straighten and fiery eyes glare. I scrunch my brow and huff loudly. I really needed that wine.

  “Ah-ah. Don’t think that’s a smart move is it.” He puts the glass on the bar. My mouth is still open at the sight of him, and I have to fight to snap it shut. “What happened to the dress; I went to a lot of effort,” he enquires in a ruthless manner.

  “Sorry.” I shrug, noticing he’s dressed informally, because to him I think Marco Polo is.

  He’s still wearing black jeans and Lacoste sneakers, but he’s changed his shirt to a white Marco Polo number, with black cuffs and buttons. Wow, it’s so suggestive the way he’s left the top buttons open. I breathe out as his sensuality melts me inside.

  “Elizabeth.” He grabs my fluctuating attention.

  “Hmm, the dress, well not to be rude, but you don’t need to provide me with clothing.”

  Unclothing me however, well, you need to do that, and soon.

  My mind wanders to a dirty place. He smirks like he knows where my head is at, and sways closer so I can smell his irresistible cologne. Hell, he makes my mouth water.

  “I thought this may happen,” he says. “Some things cannot be tamed with ease.”

  Pardon Mr Knight. You want to tame me? I’m not some wild animal in the zoo. I take offense. You may be gorgeous, prosperous, and absolutely sex worthy. But please don’t make me more uncomfortable than I already am.

  I go quiet at his comment as Sara looks on. She’s probably getting off on this awkward display.

  He sighs, pushing up my chin. “What I mean is, you don’t need expensive garments to radiate your beauty. You’re perfect the way you are.”

  Why does he speak this way to me; like he’s just walked straight out of a Bronte novel? Even his American accent is too smooth. I blush, not only because I hate receiving compliments, but Sara is still observing and I see her pupils revolve.

  “Elizabeth, there are a few things you should know about my friends.” He leads me away from Sara’s ears into the middle of the dance floor. “You may find them ambiguous.” I stiffen up at his warning. “They can be a little unforgiving, occasionally.”

  I frown, nipping on my cheek. I really do not understand why he wants me to meet them at all, if it’s going to be a difficult encounter. It’s like me asking him to come over to Cate’s and watch football with Nathan. For one- he doesn’t strike me as the football type. And two- Nathan has become a Neanderthal when it comes to Mr Knight. I can imagine them both drinking beer, eyeballing one another until it turns into some bloody boxing match.

  “Unforgiving?” I ask, confused.

  “Elizabeth, it’s just business. You have absolutely nothing to fear.” He grins down at me.

  “Business?”

  “There are formalities when it comes to the people I let into my life.” He hesitates, touching my shoulder. “Confidentiality is the key to the success we’ve had. Just trust me, you have nothing to worry about.” He sweeps his hand over my ear. “I will introduce you, we’ll have a drink, and then that’s it.”

  Okay. I believe him. How can I not? He’s reassuring me with his magnetic words and touch. It’s difficult to question him when he turns on the charm. Like he said, just say hello and goodbye, then we can finish what we started in that garage.

  I nervously smile as he leads me to a small red elevator beside the bar. There’s not much room, just enough standing space for two. My chest tremors as I shuffle inside and the door slides shut. This is the smallest elevator I’ve ever been in.

  Mr Knight chuckles under his breath as all the blood drains from my face.

  “Confined spaces bother you?” he asks, pressing zero on the keypad.

  “Hmm-hmm.” My hands clench as we descend.

  “Look, see, not that bad,” he says as the door opens and I’m the first one out of there.

  Cigar smoke, it reeks of it. I used to smoke myself, but the smell of a rich man’s toot knocks me sick. I cough, looking down the hallway at the deep red walls and black padded doors to each side of me. There must be over twenty rooms down here.

  He walks ahead and I follow, feeling my heart beating erratically against my ribcage.

  “So, what kind of music do they play down here: house, metal, grunge?” I ask to break the silence.

  I’ve been to plenty of underground clubs before. It’s always dark, dingy, with an eardrum bursting beat. And of course there’s a bar and dance floor. I look at each door, wondering where these things are.

  He stops and turns to me, lowering one brow. He seems stumped by my question. It isn’t a difficult thing to answer, and he’s looking at me as though I’ve just given him a conundrum to solve.

  “It’s my storage facility.” He glances down to his sneakers. “Full of my paperwork.”

  I look at all the doors. “That’s a lot of paperwork,” I say, sceptical.

  Storage facility. Not upstairs, or in some nice restaurant. He wants me to meet his friends down here in the depths. Either he has me well and truly under his spell, or I’m just plain stupid. I want to say to him, ‘look Mr Knight, we don’t need to do this, let’s get out of here.’ But instead, I stand aversely still with my hands before my waist.

  “Elizabeth.” He gestures his head, but I don’t move.

  He approaches me, biting his lip. You’re forgetting Mr Knight, we do not bite, hmm.

  I don’t know if he’s more apprehensive than I about this. He places his hands on my face, so my eyes can only take in his. Oh, his breath on me, it sends a quiver right down my legs. He swallows loudly, releasing his lip.

  “You should not be scared,” he says in a low tone. “Are you? Because shit, I never intended you to feel this way?” I nod a slow no. His power over me is too great. “If you want me.” Yes-yes-yes, I want you, my head screams out. “Then come meet my friends. They’re not criminals, they are family to me.” He lets me go and wraps his fingers around the silver door handle.

  He stands aside to let me through first. It’s foggy, and right before me I can see why. There’s a guy about my height, I’d say no older than mys
elf, beaming like the Cheshire cat. He’s definitely a city worker, wearing a slack pink tie, with a cigar in his hand that cradles a whiskey glass. He has light blonde lengthy hair, and abnormal stark blue eyes.

  Mr Knight runs his hand across my shoulders, blade to blade, and stands at my side.

  “Elizabeth, this is Dominic Lawson.” Dominic holds out his hand to me. “He’s just arrived over here from Seattle. Here to tie up some loose ends for our associates in Europe.” I pull my lip to the side and smile faintly. “Elizabeth.” Mr Knight motions at Dominic’s hand that is out waiting to greet me.

  “Oh... sorry.” I take his hand and notice how well trimmed it is. Smooth skin, clean cuticles, and not a mark or scratch on him. Now he’s going to notice my unrefined dry digits.

  He arches over and kisses below my knuckles. “My lady, pleasures all mine,” he says in a broad American accent.

  “Stop being an asshole. Call him Dom, Elizabeth, and ignore his immaturity. New blood, whiskey. And why the hell are you smoking, can you not read?” Mr Knight takes the cigar from Dom’s fingers and drops it into his drink.

  I chuckle quietly at the dumbfounded expression on Dom’s face.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Dom,” I say.

  “Yeah, same to you.” A degraded Dom drops down into one of the green leather chairs around a large mahogany table.

  Now I see the others. Three men sitting in this dark red room. All below thirty, and all watching me like I’m a piece of fresh steak. Crap, for a second I thought this wasn’t going to be as intense as I feared. But these guys don’t look as pleased to see me as Dom.

  “So, here she is.” An austere man leans back in his chair and hums at me.

  He’s freaking me out. I come over all peculiar and can’t look at him for more than a second. He has jet black hair all gelled back, and is wearing a black suit. He looks like he’s just been to a funeral, and has the leaden expression to match. I find him so harsh on the eye.

  “You must be Miss Lovell.” His gravelly voice sends a chill down my spine.

  “Hello.” I wave, fleetingly.

  “Elizabeth, this is Laurence Carmichael,” Mr Knight says. “Call him Laurie. As you can see he’s lacking in manners, and a personality.” He jokes, but it doesn’t lighten my apprehension. “And this is Ben Blackstock.” He points to another man.

  I look to Ben who is sitting beside Laurie. He has warm brown short hair, fair skin, and he looks like he’s had a little too much whiskey. His eyes are barely open and he’s swaying against his hand. Suddenly, he jolts up with a start and stares straight at me.

  “Nice to meet you, Elizabeth,” he says in a sigh, then slumps back into his stupor.

  “Hi.” I grin.

  “And you’ll be relieved to know that our last introduction is, Connor O’Leary.”

  Connor looks about as enthused as this get together as myself. His shirt is half open, cuffs undone, and he’s inclined back with his arms across his chest.

  “Elizabeth,” he nods.

  “Right then, let’s get down to business. I do have more important places to be right now,” Laurie announces.

  Business. Business! What the hell is this turning into? Shit, this is not one of those freaky bondage rooms is it?

  I peer around quickly, looking for any handcuffs hanging from the walls, or attached to the chairs. If this is some fucked-up fetish club, I’m out of here.

  I can’t breathe. Breathe for crying out loud. Take a goddamn breath. My heart is galloping like a horse in the Grand National. Oh, I need to sit down.

  “Elizabeth, jeez, sit down for fuck sake.” Dom notices me crumbling.

  Oh god. Dom. That’s not a nickname is it? Short for something more sinister. He doesn’t look sinister.

  Mr Knight takes my arm and leans close to my ear. “Elizabeth, you’ve got this all wrong.”

  I catch my breath as Laurie scrutinises my pathetic nerve attack. I fall down into the seat, waiting to hear the words, ‘okay Miss Lovell, are you ready to be punished?’ I mean, don’t get me wrong, we all have fantasies. But mine don’t involve being flogged for pleasure on some medieval contraption of torture.

  “Okay.” Laurie rolls his eyes in a superior manner as I fidget in my seat.

  Mr Knight comes to stand behind me. He reaches over my shoulder and places a wine glass on the table, then pours me half a chardonnay. He didn’t want me to drink upstairs, but down here he’s fine with it. Is this supposed to be my Dutch courage?

  Laurie picks up a briefcase and sets it down on the table. He opens the lid and his head disappears under the top. Oh god, is he about to introduce me to a cat of nine tails, or some bizarre tickling stick? Brace yourself Liz. Cate told you to always carry your pepper spray you fool.

  Mr Knight grips my shoulder and angles down to my ear. “Will you be still. I told you this is just a stupid formality. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”

  Yes you did Mr Knight. And I subconsciously told you, I specifically remember this, that only you can have full access to my body. Not your freaky friends. Oh please let it be that my mind is simply running haywire here.

  Laurie closes the case. He’s holding a piece of paper. I don’t think there’s a sexual act you can perform with paper is there? I think long and hard about this, and try to be as demure as possible.

  Mr Knight embraces my shoulders. He grips firm and repeatedly kneads me with his fingers. He’s nervous. Why in god’s name would he be nervous?

  “Okay.” Laurie slides the paper against the table several times. “This is a red agreement.” Hmm, red agreement, never heard of it. “This is for you to sign.” He pulls a pen out from his inside jacket pocket, and clicks it.

  Yes, of course I will sign so you can spank my ass. I’m not signing a thing, until I know exactly what it is I am signing for. I’ve got more than one brain cell in my head.

  “What is it? I mean, am I signing myself over to you. The fact is, I thought I was coming here for drinks with friends, that’s all.” I speak fast and begin to sweat. “Why do I need to sign this?” I almost shriek.

  Laurie peers up over my shoulder at Mr Knight. They stare at each other for a length of time, then his annoyed dark eyes fall back onto me.

  Weirdly, he smiles. “I do believe that Adrien has not explained to Miss Lovell what this meeting is for.” He stands up, brushing his hand down his jacket. “We shall give you a few minutes to speak privately, then return for the verdict.” Laurie shuffles around the table, ordering the others to follow him out into the hallway.

  Now we’re alone, it has gone eerily quiet. I watch Mr Knight. He’s rubbing his head with his thumb and finger. I don’t have a clue what’s going on here, so release an extensive sigh as I think of what to say to him.

  “Are you...”

  “Don’t!” He stops me questioning this. “Call me Adrien for Christ sake, and I do owe you an explanation.”

  Hesitantly, I wait for him to clear this up. I don’t like the tone of his voice, it’s downcast. He steps further back as though he has given up, and the explanation doesn’t come.

  “Adrien?” My voice weakens saying his Christian name.

  “Elizabeth.” He pulls up the chair next to me and sits down. “You don’t have to do a thing you don’t want to. I have never had to do this before. I never needed to... until you.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What is it?”

  He curves over to me, pressing his right hand on my cheek. He kisses my lips delicately and stops, resting his forehead on mine. His eyes are destitute, and his jaw fused in agitation. I stare at him, I can’t stop, and my lids remain open until my pupils haze.

  “This has been the craziest twenty-four hours. You can’t just blow hot one minute and cold the next. Why the hell bring me here to sign papers?”

  “Don’t sign it,” he says, sternly. “You should leave here and never look back.”

  “You’re a strange man, Adrien.” I swallow, upset he’s being off with me.
I hate this obscurity. I can’t just walk away. He’s a drug to me and I need another fix.

  “Elizabeth, you’d be better off taking my advice.” He slams his back against the chair.

  “Why?”

  “Because you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  “You came to me remember. The coffee shop. The shades. The outright flirting.” I gulp down. “Can you enlighten me; what am I getting into?”

  “You should go live your life... with Nathan.” Pissed-off, I let out a slight growl at his comment.

  “Okay. A few simple questions.” I blow out as I lean back. “Is this like some fetish club, and am I expected to wear a collar with studs?”

  “No.” He sniggers. “Though, that would be a fair sight to see.”

  “If I sign, do I have to do what you tell me to, and if I don’t comply, will I be spanked for it?”

  “No. Jesus!”

  “So, you really think that Nathan is better for me. I’ve been there; done that.”

  “He can give you much more than I can.” He sounds like he’s giving up, and it rips a little of my heart away.

  Why is he being so difficult? Live my life with Nathan. Nathan is a busy boy. He has a different girl every week. I would never go back there again. And I seriously doubt he’ll ever come close to making me feel the way Adrien does. This fire in my belly, the intense longing that has almost made me sick, it’s all new. And it all began at the charity banquet.

  I pull the paper and pen to me, squiggle my first initial, then stop because my subconscious is screaming, ‘you’ve not even read it yet.’

  Adrien shuffles to the edge of his seat and reaches over. He looks angry by my burst of stupidity. He holds the pen still in my hand as I notice the typed wording is in foreign. I stare at it. I think it’s in Latin.

  “It needs to be signed in your blood,” he says with a deep and grave look in his eyes.

  Oh yes. It’s perfectly normal to sign in blood. That’s if you’re making a deal with the devil. Am I? Laurie sure looks like he’s a disciple from hell.

  “I’m in a very exclusive club,” he admits. “I am the executive, and this form you need to sign, tells others that they have no right to touch you.”