by Kalpana Kali
And he was back again the next day, this time with two policemen and his lawyer. Beth stayed in the corner, behind two servers while her father confronted them.
One officer said, “Sir, we have a report that you are refusing service to this man. Your business is a public accommodation and that means you have to seat any customer—”
“He was being disruptive. I’m allowed to remove people for that.”
“How was he disruptive?”
“He made threats against my daughter!”
Now Hayman pounced. “Name me one credible, specific threat. You cannot just depend on your fantasies. My client, Stuart Sinclair, is not some beast. He has nothing but warm and peaceful feelings for your daughter.”
Stuart Sinclair? The billionaire who owns Magna Mining?
That explained why he was wearing work-site clothes. But he seemed so young. He couldn’t be more than thirty.
The cops forced them to let Sinclair have a seat and drink his coffee. All day, Beth stayed in the back, hoping the man would get tired and leave. But he was settling in. He even had a few meetings there.
In the middle of one meeting, Beth’s phone buzzed with a new message.
Middelharnis Maternity has the best clothing catalogue for pregnant women. You should look them up. They’re pricey but nothing’s too good for the mother of my child. -Stuart.
She threw the phone in a desk and left it there.
For a week, Beth and her father had to tolerate Sinclair taking over their restaurant, sometimes occupying four or five tables with his people as they worked on some project.
That was when Beth had called the reporter and declared that Stewart Sinclair was stalking her.
***
Now her words had gotten her here, in the back of a limo pulling up to the base of the Infinity Tower, tallest building in the city, where she would be forced to spend a night with a man who seemed intent on impregnating her.
Beth didn’t wait for the driver to open the door when they stopped in front of the plaza entrance. She stepped out, slammed the door behind her and walked up the stone steps.
Her breath stopped.
Stuart Sinclair turned at the top of the short stairway, smiling when he saw her. His dark hair was neatly coiffed and his slight beard gave him a roguish look. The suit seemed molded to his body, dark blue and buttoned over a silver tie.
The effect was transformative. What had been a fairly good-looking man when he was stalking her in his work clothes was now a picture of sophisticated, carefree wealth.
He extended his hand to her, saying, “My beautiful Beth. Thank you for coming.”
His attempt to claim her broke her free of the spell his appearance had cast. She ignored his hand with scorn as she walked onto the landing. Leonard and Hayman were already there. Beth said to Leonard, “Has this date started yet? Or can I be myself until we’re inside?”
“Well, I suppose it’s started since you already were in his car and—”
“No,” said Sinclair. His eyes had not left Beth this whole time. “I think Beth has something she wants to say and it’s best we get it out of the way. We won’t apply the contract until we walk inside.”
“Good,” said Beth, looking up at Sinclair and mustering all the contempt she had into her voice. “I’m going to do what I said. I’ll be pleasant for you, but you need to understand that it means nothing. It’s pretending. No matter how happy I seem tonight, to me you’re less attractive than a pus-filled monkey scrotum.”
For just a moment, Sinclair seemed hurt, but a smile covered it. “Hayman,” he said. “You hear how she spoke to me? I like that. I can’t respect a woman who doesn’t speak her mind. That’s the kind of mother my child should have. If she has any other passionate outbursts tonight, we won’t hold it against her, understood?”
“But, sir, there are going to be other people who—”
“Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Beth looked up at the tower, with its distinctive white bars racing to the top. This was where she would lose her virginity.
Wait, no. She had never agreed to that. Why had the thought even popped into her head? She knew her captor wanted to have her body—to use it for some pregnancy obsession he had, but she had no intent of giving him anything.
Sinclair let Beth walk on her own to the building lobby.
He said, “I love your ponytail. I’m glad you didn’t overdo the hair and makeup. I’ve always loved that you have that girl-next-door spirit about you.”
As they stepped through the sliding doors, he put his arm out for her. She stared at it and Leonard cleared his throat.
Sinclair’s arm took the weight of hers easily. The man felt immovable despite not being the body-builder type. She felt a slight tremor of desire rise in her at the contact.
He guided her across the floor past the main elevator.
“We’re not going up?” she asked, a little disappointed since she had never been in here before.
“Oh, we’re definitely going up,” Sinclair said, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “We just go up in style.” They walked through a security checkpoint and a guard opened an unmarked door to reveal a private elevator with internal glass walls.
Once they were in and facing back the way they had entered, the elevator operator hit the controls without being told the destination. He also changed the music, clearly knowing his passenger preferred classical to jazz.
Sinclair rubbed the fingers of his free hand with his thumb. Beth got the impression he was unsure what to say to her, especially with the lawyers cramping them. Good to see he wasn’t all supercool like he wanted her to think.
She was just about to make a sarcastic remark to him when light hit them from behind. She turned to see the elevator shaft in this section was transparent. The sparkling Brisbane River wound its way east through the lights of the city as they rose into the sky. Beyond, was the port and Moreton Bay, dotted with the lights of ships and boats.
The elevator passed through the transparent part of the shaft and stopped on a wide platform encased in glass. It was a restaurant, with dining to the right and a stage and a dance floor to the left. The lighting was just suited to a party without being too glaring. There were maybe a hundred guests in all.
A maitre d’ immediately escorted them to a table for two near a large window and left to get them drinks. The table cloth was a rich burgundy, layered in lace. Candles glowed softly at the center. The lawyers took another table not far away and Beth giggled.
“Something amusing?” Sinclair asked.
“Yes. Never mind.”
“Come now, Beth. That’s not being sociable.”
“Fine.” Beth crossed her arms in front of her. “I was thinking that Hayman and Leonard look foolish sitting like that with the table all decked out like it’s a romantic date.”
Sinclair looked over at Leonard, who was fighting with the menu and Hayman, who looked like he just wanted to eat everything. “I’ve seen stranger couples,” he said, smiling.
“Yeah,” said Beth. “Me and you.”
“It’s not that bad, is it?”
“You haven’t ripped my clothes off or anything, so sure, it’s going much better than I expected.”
“I would never do that.”
The waiter came for their orders.
“What’s the most expensive thing on your menu?” Beth asked him, her eyes locked with Sinclair’s.
“That would be the Caspian Special, madam. Lobster and caviar frittata with a side of first-harvest Brisbane mangoes in sour cream.”
“Great. I’ll have three.”
“Certainly, madam.” Then he looked at Sinclair.
Her date had an amused expression on his face and nodded in appreciation of Beth’s prank. Then he said to the waiter, “Tell Hiro to do some of that sushi I like. And bring the usual wine too.”
“I’m sorry, sir, Hiro is not on duty this evening. Diego is the head chef.”
“That’s even better,” said Sinclair, leaning towards the waiter. “Don’t tell Hiro I said so, but Diego’s sushi has a better mix of seasonings.”
The waiter smiled and winked, then left.
“So you intend to bankrupt me through food?” Sinclair asked Beth.
“I want to at least make sure it hurts.”
“The owner will be pleased with the business at least. He appreciates people who run up a large bill.”
“You know him?”
“Yes.” He grinned.
Beth smacked her forehead. “This is your restaurant, isn’t it?”
“You figured it out faster than most people.”
“Yeah, I’m special.”
“You are.” He reached over and held her hand, his palms warm.
She thought about pulling away, but that was probably unsociable behavior, so she let him be. It felt kind of good actually.
He said, “I have a confession to make.”
Her heart thumped, but she stayed cool. “Mhhm,” she said. Beth calmly opened her purse. After calmly tapping the phone inside to turn on the recording function, she took a wet wipe out of it. As she set the packet down, she hoped the restaurant’s music wouldn’t block out Sinclair’s words.
“What’s the confession?” she asked.
“You were devastated when you found out about your fertility problems. You’ve always wanted to be a mother. So—”
“I think you misunderstand. A confession is when you tell me things about yourself.”
He chuckled. “Yes. I’m getting there.” He held her hand a little tighter. “You couldn’t afford the treatments. But then the doctor called you up and said you could enter an experimental treatment trial for free.”
“Right.”
“Beth, there was no drug trial.” Sinclair had a serious expression on his face. “I contacted the doctor and paid for you to get the regular treatment. And it worked. The doctor said you—”
“You bastard.”
“I just wanted to help. How is that being a bastard?”
“Because it makes me feel grateful to you and you’re a bastard for doing that. I don’t want anything from you.”
The food arrived. The waiter seemed in a hurry to lay all the platters down, as if he could sense their conflict.
When they were alone again, Sinclair said, “You know, it’s okay to not think of me as all evil.”
“I shouldn’t even feel grateful. You only did it because you want me to be able to fulfill your strange pregnancy obsession.”
She began eating and he followed suit. The lobster and caviar was an alien flavor to Beth, but she could see herself acquiring a taste for it after she’d eaten it a few more times. But there would be no more times. Why was she even thinking of more meals in this place? Tonight was the end of it.
“Why me?” Beth asked, tossing her fork down. “You could have a dozen supermodels.”
“Because you’re you and you’re perfect.”
“You didn’t find me in that cafe by accident, did you?”
“No. I had doctors all over the country scouting for me, to find a woman like you.”
Beth said sarcastically, “What? Blond, five-six—?”
“A woman who would appreciate motherhood. Who was desperate for it and knew how precious it was because she was in danger of losing the ability to create life. You never hesitated to get that experimental treatment. Even being so young and not ever having a boyfriend, you wanted your body to be whole.”
“I could have had a boyfriend if I’d wanted,” Beth said defensively.
“Yes, but you had to help take over for your mother when she died. It’s a lot of work taking care of two kids. You were just a kid yourself.”
“I just did what was needed.”
“I know.” Sinclair was looking at her strangely, like he really understood her. “But I can see you enjoy it. Like when you take them to the park sometimes and they’re on the swing and you look so happy—”
“Listen,” said Beth. “I accept that getting pregnant is important to me, but you’re going about this all wrong. What kind of life do you imagine us having?”
“Any kind of life you want. I can arrange for—”
“I don’t mean that. Stop thinking of this in some vague way. I’m a person. How are you and me going to be with each other as people?”
“If you want to talk about us treating each other as persons,” said Sinclair, “maybe you could address why you haven’t used my first name all night.”
“I— I don’t need to use your name to—”
“But why don’t you?” He wiped his mouth and sat back, “Call me Stuart. Right now. Prove to me that you see me as a person.”
“Stuart, you’re a dick.” She raised her eyebrow. “Satisfied? I see you for the person you are.”
“Good. Then we can work on why you think I’m the bad guy in—”
Beth said, “Why force me? Stalk me? You could have just said you wanted a date. I would have said yes just to see what dating a billionaire was like. Heck, I would have dated you when I still thought you were a mining worker.”
Stuart seemed pleased, but in a way that showed he had never considered his non-billionaire self to be attractive before. Then he got serious, becoming the billionaire again. “I don’t beg for things. I buy them, or I simply take them.”
“You can’t buy me.”
“I know that. And I remember as a child my mother telling my father she wouldn’t have another baby. That was—”
“That was her right,” Beth said.
“Yes. And you have your rights, but I wanted to make sure that before you and I begin this that there’s no misunderstanding. I take this very seriously and I don’t want you in this unless you understand that I’m in charge.”
“Good. That’s wonderful. Because I don’t want you in charge of me, so we can call the whole thing off.”
Stuart sat back, smiling. He called to the next table, “Hayman, what’s the next social activity for the night?”
“I believe dancing, sir. The DJ has the songs cued for when you step out on the floor.”
Holding out his hand, Stuart stood and said to Beth, “Let’s get to it then.”
“But— But the food. I’m still—”
“Leave it. You haven’t had a bite in three minutes anyway and you won’t enjoy dancing on a full stomach.”
She stood hesitantly. “But this stuff costs as much as my car.”
“We’ll get more later if you want. Besides, you knew you wouldn’t be able to finish it when you ordered.”
He led her to the dance floor, where about twenty couples were already slow-dancing.
Great. He’s going to use this as an excuse to get his hands all over me.
But he didn’t. The music stopped mid-song and was Withd by a dance beat. It was an Elvis remix and he was asking to have a little less conversation and a little more action please while the rhythm got Beth’s feet moving.
Stuart danced well, not doing anything complicated. At least at first. About halfway through the song he looked at Beth and gave her an Elvis sneer. It was simultaneously goofy and still a good impression.
She could not help but smile.
Another Elvis dance remix was next. He was praising Las Vegas. Stuart began doing the singer’s famous moves, still managing to seem like a competent dancer while being silly. By the end of the song Beth was giggling at his antics.
She lost track of time as they danced, not speaking, but engaging with their bodies, matching moves and using the dance floor together.
It was a surprise when Hayman walked up and tapped his watch at Stuart. She checked the time. They had spent forty minutes having real fun and she hadn’t felt the weight of her contractual obligations on her at all.
“Time to go,” said Stuart. “Party’s over. Now it’s the after-party.”
As she picked up her purse from the dining table, Beth shook her head at the unused food.
“Still feeling guilty?” Stuart asked.
“I can’t help it. I’m in the restaurant business, so I know food gets wasted, but each serving of that was five thou—”
“Don’t feel guilty.” Stuart offered his arm. “Tell you what. Let me see you make a genuine attempt to have fun tonight and I’ll donate the cost of your meal to a food bank.”
“I’d accept, but that would make me feel like at least one-eighth a prostitute.”
He smiled and shook his head at her stubbornness.
When he led her to a stairway, she pointed to the elevator and said, “We’re not leaving?”
“Oh, we’re leaving all right, but we leave in style too.”
She got nervous at him taking her somewhere alone, but the lawyers came over to them, as well as three other men and a woman.
“Beth,” said Stuart, “this is my old friend Prince Saeed and his wife Akeela.” He pointed to the other two men. “And this is Collin Calais. He’s the captain of the New Zealand rugby team and his boyfriend, Peter.” Then he reversed the introductions and said, “Folks, this is Beth. She’s interviewing to be the love of my life. She’ll be joining us for the evening.”
Stuart’s friends laughed at his joke and greeted Beth. She went along with the friendliness since the contract said she had to be sociable. Besides, they seemed like nice people.
After climbing three flights of stairs, they emerged on the top of the tower. A helicopter stood there, its blades already spinning. The eight of them got comfortably into the roomy cabin of the aircraft and it took to the skies.
They followed the path of the river out to sea. Beth couldn’t help staring out of her window the whole way, watching the city slip away below them. As the darkness below grew, she caught sight of Stuart, reflected in the window. He was staring at her with a worshipful expression. For the first time, she realized that what he was feeling inside for her was more than just the need to own her and use her. But was that love or something more sinister?