Disrobed (The Billionaire's Secretary)

by Malone, Amy

  “That’d be great, Senator.”

  Tracey glanced over at Amanda. This was her doing, though it didn’t seem her style. It wasn’t that she wasn’t underhanded enough. She just lacked the subtlety and intelligence. Her icy blue eyes were trained on Felicia as she possessively rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling viciously. The “’What now, bitch?’ look” was what Cheryl used to call that expression.

  Felicia stared back in anger. She could be ferocious when she wanted to. She was well-educated and mild-mannered, but there was a part of her that wanted to take off her earrings and kick this white bitch’s ass!

  Gaining control of herself, she looked away and took a few deep breaths. She was sure that there was nothing that would please Amanda more than to have her act a fool and get dragged out of the party. She scanned the scene, looking for a familiar face to distract her. That was when she spotted him. Behind Amanda, in another circle of chatting socialites, stood Felix. He was talking with wide gestures that were careful never to spill his drink. Every movement was cool, calculated. It was clear to her, knowing him, that he was enjoying being the center of attention, though she was sure that he respected or liked no one in that small circle. It was clear to her, now. He was pathetic. Broken. She resented the fact that such a man had ever held complete sway over her world.

  She looked over at Tracey. His shoulders were broad, and his laugh was easy and earnest. His confidence was authentic, not a piece of theater used as a tool to manipulate and control. Felicia looked back at Felix. After a few moments he turned to look back at her, meeting her hazel eyes with his steely grey. He seemed surprised, but raised his glass politely and went back to his conversation.

  That’s right Felix, she thought. Don’t even think about coming over here.

  As Felix told his story to a captivated audience, he could think of one thing, and one thing only. It was her, burning on the edges of his peripheral vision. Felicia Aimes. His infatuation with her had started as a small desire, burning in a corner of his heart when they were dating. He’d taken it for granted, taken her for granted, and after she’d left it had surprised Felix to find that his feelings for her persisted. Now, she was beginning to consume his every thought. He had thought the term was over used at his country clubs and in his social circles, but there seemed to be no better phrase to describe her than “ebony goddess”. Ebony goddess indeed, he thought, continuing to sip champagne and feigning interest in the insipid conversations of two or three spoiled, soft, socialites.

  He wanted to worship her, but his form of worship was domination. He needed to control and own her completely. Felix smiled inwardly. An ex-girlfriend of his had once called him the devil. She, however, had been no better than he. Simply a selfish sociopath who hadn’t gotten the upper hand in the relationship the way she had intended. Felicia, on the other hand, was better than him. He knew it, and didn’t care. Life wasn’t fair and, as far as Felix was concerned, this was a very good thing. All that mattered were results. And he was very good at getting the ones he wanted.

  Felix had been at the party for about half an hour, fraternizing with the guests. He disagreed with the idea of being “fashionably late”. The prey was often far easier earlier in the night, and by the time the so-called “fashionable” people got there, a person who played his hand correctly could be a rock star. Even if you hadn’t known a soul there only hours earlier. That, incidentally, had been exactly what had happened this night. Felix couldn’t help glancing around the party.

  Patience, Felix. It won’t do to ruin the clout you’ve built by implying someone here is more important than you. You’ll need the admiration and respect of these people if you are to succeed.

  Right now, Felix had it. Every joke he made was laughed at. His well rehearsed stories of adventures abroad were listened to with awe. By the time he caught Felicia entering the room, he’d had a small crowd of five or six people around him. She hadn’t noticed, though. All her attention belonged to the man whose arm she was on. Tracey Gordon. Felix had to give it to Tracey. He was rich, handsome, and ambitious. Felix thought he was certainly a better man than he, and appreciated this fact. It was simply that he was in the way. Felix was a little sad at having to destroy him. Well, at least his relationship with Felicia. He was too strong, and his influence was like a shining light beaming onto Felicia’s blooming garden. While she was under it, the gates to that garden would never admit Felix.

  Felix had known of Tracey in his days dating Felicia. He’d always known he was a threat, but had thought there’d be time to deal with him, later. He’d underestimated Tracy’s connection with Felicia until it was too late. In retrospect, it was clear that it was only a matter of time before their bond became too strong for Felix to reach through. Indeed, a mere few months after they had begun being friends outside of work, Felicia had packed her things and left without a word. One evening, he’d found that she had blocked his number, cancelled their joint gym membership, and removed every trace of herself from his apartment, leaving her set of keys with a note: It’s over. Felix had known better than to try contacting her after that.

  He’d dated a few other women, and had tried to put Felicia out of his mind. Tried and failed. She somehow only grew in her importance to him. He missed her naked brown curves, the scent of her in his bed, her laugh. No one had ever left Felix in such a state, before. It was more than that, though. No one had ever been intelligent enough to understand the secret that Felix knew well. The thing that had allowed him to control almost everyone he knew. It was simply this: control over oneself was a myth. Human beings were at the mercy of a hundred desires, each pulling them in a different direction. The best they could hope to do was choose the desires they cared to satisfy the most, focus their energy there, and be swift about doing it. Not everyone could be satisfied, after all. Not everyone could get what they wanted. Only the few ruthless souls who took the initiative to do whatever it took to get what they wanted. Life was just one case of “first come, first served” after another. The fact that she had known that he would be able to break her resolve and had shown the wisdom of making her break swift and sure revealed a facet of her character he had never witnessed. Taming her into a good little girl would be his life’s crowning glory.

  In his research, Felix had discovered Tracey’s weakness: the Senator. Tracey needed Senator Woolworth, and his ambition would lead him to do almost anything to get the precious connections at the Senators beck and call. From there, it had been easy to find the Senator’s weakness: his daughters. He was forever trying to satisfy the whimsical, spoiled desires of the girls who so closely resembled his late wife. Especially Amanda, who as fortune would have it, had a weakness for Tracey. Felix couldn’t believe how easy it was. He wanted to laugh to himself every time he thought of it, and sometimes did. He would promise Amanda could have Tracey if she did as he said. He would promise the Senator that Amanda would get what she wanted if he could get him a job with Tracey, and he would work his way into Tracey’s inner world. Just too easy.

  He glanced quickly over at Felicia, who was obviously trying to overhear Tracey’s conversation with Amanda and the Senator. Too late, Felicia. Felix smiled and turned back to his conversation. A few moments later, sensing eyes turn in his direction, Felix caught her looking at him. He could tell that he had caught her off guard with his presence, but made no move toward her. It was critical that he seemed unrelated to unfolding events, and approaching her was too suspicious. Especially for such an intelligent woman, he thought, smiling inwardly. He raised his glass silently, grinned politely, and turned his attention back toward ignoring the people in front of him. That’s right Felicia, he thought, careful not to look back in her direction. It’s all a coincidence. His mission for tonight was accomplished. Things were going according to plan. It was time to go.

  Later that evening, as the party dispersed, Felicia looked around for Felix. She had found a charming older couple that she recognized from one of Tracey’s yacht partie
s and had spent the rest of the evening with them, happily listening to their tales of travel and what their grandchildren were up to. A few moments ago, the wife had mentioned a charming young man with grey eyes, and Felicia instinctively knew it was Felix.

  She was relieved to find he wasn’t there and, as she said her goodbyes to the couple, began to search for Tracey. Boy did she hope he was up for a few drinks, tonight. She certainly was! Looking toward the entrance, she could see Tracey saying his final goodbyes to the Senator and Amanda.

  “It was good to see you, Senator. I look forward to dinner.”

  “You should, our chef, Raoul, cooks food as good as the best restaurants you’ve eaten at. We’ll open a good bottle of wine to celebrate,” he said, and moving in closely to Tracey whispered, “and perhaps you and I can move to the study after for cigarettes, coffee, and bourbon.”

  Tracey smiled and nodded.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world Senator,” he said.

  “Oh, enough with the formality,” said Woolworth. ”Call me Henry.”

  “Alright Henry. See you there.”

  As they left, Tracey turned toward Felicia with a beaming smile. Tonight had gone even better than expected. His rule of making appearances regularly might even have to be updated to twice a month. He hoped Felicia was up for celebrating with drinks! He waved her over.

  “Did you get through the night, okay?” he asked, smirking slightly. He hadn’t seemed to have seen Felix, and that was alright with Felicia. She didn’t even want to think about him.

  “I survived. How about you?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

  He laughed.

  “Better than expected. Yes, even with Amanda present.”

  They both began to walk out of the large doors of the Empire Room and toward the lobby of the Waldorf. Felicia didn’t know how, but the limo driver always seemed to be waiting for them as they left. Surely he doesn’t wait out there the entire time? She mused, resolving to ask at the next opportunity.

  “So. Drinks?” he asked, taking her arm in much the same way he had when they’d entered.

  “Sure,” she said. “Where?”

  Tracey thought for a second. In the blur of events that evening, and off of the high that came from his encounter with the Senator, he had forgotten about the encounter between Felicia and him, earlier. Also, being a practical man, he didn’t think it mattered much. Felicia was his friend, and what had happened was merely a fluke. Besides, he didn’t want to risk losing the best damn assistant he’d ever had. What he did want, however, was to chat with Felicia undisturbed.

  “The Penthouse?” he offered, holding the door open for Felicia.

  Felicia’s heart quickened. She had certainly not forgotten about earlier, and didn’t dismiss it at all. Was this a proposition? What was going to happen? Her first instinct was a resounding no, and it almost came crashing out of her lips. Then she felt it. The crushing feeling of having literally shut the door on sexual adventure, and the helpless feeling of not being able to do otherwise. This time, she would do as she liked just to prove she could. Besides, they were both adults, right? What had happened earlier was a mistake, nothing more.

  “Sure,” she responded simply, hoping it sounded nonchalant.

  Chapter Three

  They rode to Tracey’s place in silence, both looking out of their respective windows at the passing cityscape and absorbing the events of the evening. All things considered, Tracey didn’t think the evening could have turned out better. Across from him, Felicia had thought the evening was worse than expected. They were both glad the evening was over, however.

  At Tracey’s apartment, they rode up the elevator in silence.

  She considered bringing Felix up, and thought better of it. It was beginning to shape up into a nicer night than before. She didn’t want allow Felix to ruin her life even when he wasn’t there. She looked over at Tracey and smiled.

  “You look sharp in that suit, sir,” she said, looking up at him.

  “Thank you ma’am,” he responded, in a terrible fake southern drawl. He eyed her up and down. She didn’t look bad, herself. Her gorgeous brown outfit complimented her darker skin, hanging off of her curves in a tasteful manner that accentuated them without being overt. Not that Tracey would mind if they were more overt…

  Opening the door to his apartment, Tracey let out a small, whimsical sigh of relief. This was his domicile, his fortress of solitude, and at the end of the day this is where he let his guard down to recharge himself.

  Walking over to the oak liquor cabinet, he began looking up and down, taking his time to eye the contents. Felicia walked over to the windows overlooking Manhattan, glittering black gold in the moving night.

  “I’m going to grab a beer, what would you like?” Tracey asked as he closed the liquor cabinet and turned toward the fridge.

  “I think after such a luxurious evening, a beer is exactly what I need to bring me back down to earth,” she said smiling. She walked over to the other side of the kitchen bar, curious about what he had in stock.

  Opening the fridge, Tracey remembered that he had a few local craft beers, one or two of the larger brands, and cider (the cider was rarely used, and Tracey rarely had guests, but he liked to be prepared).

  “I’ll take the Shiner Hefeweizen,” she said, taking note of the impressed look Tracey shot back at her.

  “Oh ho, a woman of discerning tastes,” he said, grabbing the beer. He decided on an IPA made by a small brewery in Maine.

  Felicia opened the door out onto the patio overlooking the city. It was a warm night, and even at the level of the penthouse the breeze was calm. Around her legs, it felt like the moving current of a massaging blanket.

  Tracey sat in the chair on the other side of the wooden deck table. He undid his tie and top button, rotating his broad shoulders as he did so. Felicia smiled. She’d seen him do this countless times at the office, always during an evening he knew would be long, or just after one that had been.

  Drinking their beers and looking out into the city, Felicia and Tracey let the events from earlier go entirely, laughing and talking late into the night.

  When it got too chilly, they went indoors and decided to switch to wine. Tracey uncorked the top and winked at Felicia, turning the label toward her. Felicia gasped. It was his treasured 1961 Bordeaux.

  There was a light in his eyes, a sly mischievous twinkle in his smirk, as he poured the wine. Rolling it around in the glass, he smelled it, before handing the other to her.

  “I thought you were saving this for a special occasion,” she said, feeling her face blush. She’d never seen herself blush, and didn’t know if it showed through her complexion. She hoped not.

  “It is a special occasion. Wine, and dancing.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, he clapped his hands twice and music played. Felicia laughed. She felt lightheaded, but didn’t want the night to stop for anything. She subtly reached into her purse and turned her phone to mute, placing her bag back onto the kitchen counter. Tracey, not missing a beat, reached into his back pocket, took out his phone and turned it off. As he placed it on the counter, Felicia saw the “Powering Off” notification play and the phone go dark. Her heart skipped a beat. He didn’t plan for them to be disturbed, either.

  The music played on, and Tracey moved closer to her. He leaned against the counter, chatting easily as they sipped their expensive wine and laughed. Felicia looked down at the bacchanal elixir in her cup . It had a full-bodied taste that lingered for moments after the sip, changing into a slightly tart flavor as it disappeared in one’s mouth. Felicia could afford nice things on her salary at the company, but she was sure that this vintage was out of her price range. She tried not to think about how much it cost. Instead, she focused on Tracey. She thought about the way she liked his playful yet formal attitude at work. She thought about the way he was always relaxed after hours, after a few drinks. She thought about the slight ripple in his biceps when he laughed, or
his wink – rarely used but meaningfully conspiratorial. She knew it was silly, but Felicia felt she had seen many winks, but none with the authenticity and light charm of Tracey’s.

  The night progressed, and drinks flowed. Tracey found himself more and more entranced with the brown angel standing before him. Now and again he pulled his eyes back up from the v-neck cut at the top of her dress, or her generous bottom. It wasn’t that he was ashamed but, rather, that he knew that good things took time. And Felicia was the absolute best.

  Tracey stroked Felicia’s bare arm, coming in close in the dimmed penthouse. He was talking softly in her ear now, almost cooing. Felicia rested her hand on his muscled arm, intoxicated with the scent of his cologne.

  “This has been a lovely evening,” he said, looking down at her and resting his cheek in her hand.

  “It has. Listen, Tracey -”

  He put a finger to her lips silencing her.

  “It’s alright, Felicia. We can discuss it in the morning,” he said, smirking. Before Felicia could respond, he grabbed her close and pressed his lips to hers.

  The heat of it made her dress feel too warm, too constricting. She needed to take it off. Tracey, reading her thoughts, began to grow against her, a passion that pulsed and nudged against her thigh.

  In that moment, as she was lost, she wondered: He’s so big. Will he even fit?

  They parted lips, and as Tracey moved both straps of her dress over her shoulder, letting it fall to the ground, he whispered in her ear:

  “Tonight, I will take you.”

  He admired her for a moment. The dimmed light of the penthouse and the ambient light of the city accentuated the small of her back and the bottoms of her pert breasts and ass. He took off his shirt, revealing his cut frame and chest up masculine demeanor. She didn’t curl up or try to hide herself, this time. She saw the intensity of the lust in his green eyes, his love, and wanted to force him to take her.