by Rhea Wilde
"Now that you're spending more time with me, what do you plan on doing?"
I raised one of my eyebrows from across the table, curious as to what he could possibly have planned for me even though my instincts told me it was obvious. I was dressed in nothing but a towel, my hair still damp from the shower.
Thomas just stared at me. The emeralds in his eyes were full of something that couldn't be mistaken. I stood up from the table and took his signal. Slowly, I sauntered my way over to him. I gripped the towel and untied it, letting it drop down onto the floor.
"Would you like some dessert for breakfast, Mr. Livingston?"
I gave him a look of seduction, staring deep into his eyes and biting my bottom lip ever so slightly. He reached out slowly with his hand and placed it upon my stomach. I closed my eyes as I felt his fingers trail down my flesh and toward my center.
"You are built to perfection," he whispered. "But..."
I suddenly felt the pressure of his hand disappear. I looked down at him and he had returned his attention back to his cup of coffee.
"We have a busy day," he said. "I'd prefer you save your strength."
"Busy day? What could you possibly have planned for me?"
"Get dressed. We’re heading out. You'll see."
I didn't remember the last time I had been told to put my clothes on. There were times when some poor guy lied about how much money he had. There were times when the clock ran out on them. There were even times when guys got nervous and changed their mind. This was the first time someone had ever denied me, even if it did seem to take him some effort.
"Are you sure you won't reconsider, Mr. Livingston?"
It wasn't just because I was in disbelief. It was a blow to my ego. I could admit that. But there was more to it. Seeing Thomas in this kind of light was different. He wasn't in a suit but he still managed to look as handsome as he always did. For a second, I wanted him to take me and the question spilled out as if by accident.
He didn't look at me. Instead, he turned his attention to the view while he took another gulp of coffee.
"Angel, if I did reconsider, this food would have been shoved onto the floor and you would have been spread across this table. But we do have a long day ahead of us. Please, don't tempt me any further. That's what I want."
"As you wish, Mr. Livingston."
I picked my towel up off of the ground and slowly made my way back to the bedroom. I turned around one last time to see if he was even watching me walk away but the city still had all of his attention. Now I was really curious as to what he had planned for the day.
“Angel…”
I stopped in my tracks.
“Make sure you put your hair up. No wigs today.”
I nodded politely to him and returned to the closet in the bedroom we both shared our time in. It was easier to get dressed these days. Everything in my wardrobe was flattering. But I still took the time to look like I belonged on the arm of a billionaire. Thomas didn’t mind. I put my hair up as he asked and painted my face to perfection. In a black skirt and matching top, I jumped into a pair of pumps and returned out to the living room where Thomas was holding the door open for me.
“After you.”
I stepped out of the suite and was greeted immediately by William, who escorted me through the hotel. Flanked by the two men, I made my way into the limo, my mind curious as to where we were heading. Thomas looked at me from across his seat with a sly smile on his face but didn’t say anything.
“So, where are we going?” I asked him as I looked out the window.
“Patience.”
The view of the city was different from the inside of a limo compared to the penthouse but not by much. On the top of a building, you could look down on everybody. From here, tinted windows shielded you from any prying eyes that might be trying to get a peek. No matter what, I was always at some kind of advantage. I liked it. It was like I was right there, close to all of the people in the city, but I didn’t have to deal with them unless I wanted to.
Staring at all of the people going about their day was all I could do to occupy myself. Thomas remained silent for the entire trip, only smiling coyly at me when I was about to inquire as to what his plans for me today were.
Eventually, the limo pulled into a small parking private parking garage in the heart of the city. William opened the door for me and when I stepped out, I was still confused as to what was going on.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“Hold on. You’ll see…”
I took Thomas’s hand as he led me through the small garage to a back entrance of the building right next to it. I could hear something behind the walls. There was music playing. It was loud enough for it to be thumping through the walls. Underneath the sound of the beat, I could hear someone speaking. Thomas held the door open for me and ushered me into the building and finally I saw where he had brought me.
The room was small. The windows were tinted and even though the sun was still bright, the lights shining above were necessary to light the room. The wooden floor squeaked underneath me. The rest of the walls were lined with mirrors. And standing at the center of the room was a man dress in nothing but a white tank-top and a pair of black slacks.
He was a tall and slim man. He looked like he was in his older years but none the worse for wear. His posture was a line straight down from his head to the ground. The firmness of his muscles was apparent even though his skin had shown some signs of age. His gray hair was cut short against his head and he had a focused look in his eyes.
He stared at a couple who were in one another’s arms. They were ordinary. A man whose hair was long gone and thick-framed glasses that practically hid his face. The woman he held was similarly unspectacular. She wore a thick sweater to hide her figure and a pair of pants that matched her mate's.
Together, they danced intimately with one another. Their steps were measured and uneven, barely in rhythm to the music. It was clear they weren’t professionals but the look in their eyes told me they didn’t care what they looked like. They were enjoying themselves.
The rigid man watching them nodded his head to the slow-moving tune. His eyes were locked upon them, his lips moving and counting silently as they did their best to gracefully move across the dance floor.
I stood next to Thomas as I watched them dance, in the back of my mind curious as to why he brought me here, but somewhat captivated as to what was happening in front of me. This wasn’t the kind of dancing I saw at these wealthy social functions I had been spending my time at. It was the complete opposite. But none of it mattered.
I could feel Thomas’s gaze fall upon me from time to time but I didn’t look back at him. I was still looking at the average-looking couple struggling to stay in rhythm with the music and with one another. The music almost mercifully came to an end and the man closely observing them nodded his head with approval, a smile coming across his face.
“Very good. Very good. You’ve made a lot of progress. You guys are going to do great when the time comes.”
Almost in unison, the couple sheepishly nodded their heads as they thanked the man.
“T-this… Why did you bring me here?” I asked Thomas. “What’s going on?”
Thomas continued to remain evasive, not saying anything to me. It was frustrating and confusing all at the same time. I shook my head as I started to laugh at him, standing at the edge of the dance floor while the man said his goodbyes to the couple.
“Just remember to relax,” he said to them. “Remember. It’s your wedding day. Nobody will be focused on your steps or your timing. The only thing you have to do is dance with one another. Everything will take care of itself.”
The two thanked the man again and they left the studio. Now alone with Thomas and the stranger, I was finally going to get the answer I was looking for.
“Ah, Mr. Livingston,” the man said as he turned around to see us. “Right on time as usual. And this must be the lovely young lady
I’ve been hearing all about.”
He walked up to me and took his hand in his. His charm knew no end. For what he had lost in youth, he made up from in experience and wisdom. He placed his lips across my hand.
“Angel,” he said. “It is my pleasure. My name is Marcus.”
“Nice to meet you, Marcus. What exactly did Mr. Livingston tell you about me?”
They looked at each other and the smiles on their faces told me they were hiding something.
“He said you seemed to enjoy dancing,” he said.
“I… It can be fun,” I said. “But I don’t know how to dance.”
“Really? Mr. Livingston tells me you’re a natural.”
“She is,” Thomas intervened. “Angel will be able to pick up everything you’re willing to teach her.”
“Wait a second,” I said. “Teach me? Am I here for dance lessons?”
“That’s correct, Angel,” Thomas said to me.
“Um, can I talk to you for a second?”
“Of course. Marcus.”
Marcus nodded his head as he excused himself. He made his way to the other side of the room where he fiddled with the stereo system. The music skipped as he sorted through the various tracks. Different beats, slow and fast, lively and somber, all filled the room while I spoke to Thomas to the side.
“You brought me here to take dancing lessons?” I asked him.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“But—”
“Yes?”
“I…”
“Angel, we made an agreement. Your body is mine and I’m free to do whatever I want to it. In this case, I’d like that you learn how to dance and improve upon it.”
I wasn’t sure what to think. He was paying me to take dance lessons. I had never imagined that he would want something like this out of me. It was even more confusing than when I didn’t know where he was going to take me. But I couldn’t object. We had a deal.
“Do you not want to do this?” he asked me.
He must have noticed some of the hesitation on my face. I looked back at Marcus as the slow music started to fill the background. The empty dance floor looked so massive. Glossy wood sprawling from one end of the room to the other. The light shining down upon it reflected back up to the ceiling.
“No,” I said. “If this is what you desire, Mr. Livingston.”
“It is.”
“I make no promises about my abilities. This isn’t something I’m used to doing.”
“I know, Angel. That’s why you’re taking lessons.”
“Will you be here with me?”
Thomas shook his head.
“I know enough to make my way around the floor. I’m not asking for much Angel. William will take you here every day. I’ll be waiting for you in the evening.”
“I don’t know how long this will take,” I said. “If you want me to be a world class dancer or something—”
“Angel, I have all the time and money in the world. You can take as long as you like. And you can leave whenever you please. This is all I ask of you.”
“Okay.”
I nodded my head with confidence, finally realizing that Thomas was serious about his request. Marcus made his way back over to the two of us and held his arms out.
“Well, shall we get started?” he asked.
I looked at Thomas one last time then back to Marcus.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m looking forward to this.”
The enthusiasm of the two men seemed to have rubbed off on me. I was somewhat fascinated when I first saw the ballroom. I never imagined that Thomas would actually want me to pursue it with any type of seriousness. But I was in no position to object and as long as he was paying me, I was more than happy to comply.
“I’ll be out of your way,” Thomas said. “William will be waiting for you when you’re through. Marcus, please take care of her.”
“Of course, Mr. Livingston.”
Thomas exited the small dance studio and I was left alone with the gray-haired Marcus. The music played in the background and I became anxious, unsure of what else to expect.
Marcus looked down at the ground and my eyes joined his. He was staring at the pair of red pumps I was balancing myself upon.
“Are you planning on practicing in those, Miss Angel?”
“Uh, yeah. Is that going to be a problem?”
Marcus looked at me and snickered softly to himself.
“Let’s get started,” he said. “We have a lot to go over.”
Chapter 16
I stepped into the limo and pulled my pumps off. Despite my attempts at trying to rest my weary feet, Marcus could only give me so much mercy. It only took me a few minutes to realize he was laughing at me and after three hours, the joke was entirely on me.
I slumped in my seat as William sped away from the dance studio. Even though we did nothing that was of any high intensity, the strain I had put my legs and feet through left the lower half of my body lifeless. The limo made its way through the city and back to the hotel suite, where I was immediately going to get a foot massage.
I got an early start, rubbing my fingers against the arches of my feet. I looked in the mirror and could see the tiniest of smiles beginning to form on William’s face as he looked back at me.
“What’s so funny?” I asked him.
“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“My apologies. It wasn’t my intention to find any amusement in this.”
William turned his attention back to the road and I sighed.
“I guess I can’t blame you,” I said. “I’d be laughing too if I could see myself right now.”
William couldn’t drive fast enough. I had no problem with straining my muscles and working up a sweat. But the problem was that most men usually had me on my back when I was doing it. Being on my feet was a complete contradiction of my job description. Curious as to why Thomas was the one man proving to be the exception, I asked William for some answers.
“Do you know Marcus?” I asked him.
“Yes, I do.”
“So does Thomas come out here often?”
“Not often,” he said. “Initially, when Thomas was first learning how to dance, he would be here on a regular basis. But I suppose Thomas has learned enough that he doesn’t need any lessons.”
Thomas knew what he was doing on the dance floor. I learned that first-hand. I wondered how many of the millionaires and billionaires I first saw in the ballroom that night actually had the proper training like Thomas. Then a thought suddenly came across my mind.
“Am I the first woman that Thomas has ever made you bring out here?”
“No.”
“So there have been other women that Marcus has taught?”
“That’s correct.”
“Was Gabrielle one of them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Miss Angel?”
“Why does he make all of these women take dancing lessons? What do you suppose he’s up to?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Angel, but that sounds like a question you’d have to take up with Mr. Livingston himself. I’m only the driver. His intentions are just as much a mystery to me as any outsider.”
“But there has to be a reason. I mean, I think I did well enough on the floor the first time and I had no idea what I was doing. It’s like he wants me to improve or be better for some reason. What do you think?”
“Anything is possible, Miss Angel.”
I was curious as to why he had brought me out here but now Thomas’s intentions were even more unclear. They were so unclear that they were beginning to frustrate me.
I couldn’t get back into the penthouse suite fast enough. I immediately had a masseuse sent up to the room to soothe the pain away from my feet. The man’s hands were like some kind of ambrosia. The pleasure resonated from my soles and up through the rest of my body. This particular massage was just as much a rel
ief as knowing that Thomas was paying me for all of this.
I lounged around in the penthouse suite for the rest of the day. I lazily laid on the bed while room service catered to my appetite. It felt like all of the work of the day had been done and I could finally enjoy the freedom I didn’t fully admit I needed to Thomas.
Night came and I hopped back into the sexy outfit I had been wearing when I escorted Thomas to the dance studio. The door to the suite opened and he stepped inside. He looked different. The fatigue of a hard day at work was gone. It was replaced by the look of a man who had been on a well-deserved vacation.
“You look amazing,” he said to me. “I guess Marcus didn’t beat you up too bad.”
“He did,” I said. “I had never been on my feet so long before. Remind me to never wear pumps to that studio again.”
“I think you’ll remember. Speaking of which, I bought you something.”
I didn’t notice the box he was holding when he first walked in. He held it out to me. Slowly, I took it from him and opened it. I looked down at a pair of black leather sneakers, unsure of what to say.
“W-what are these?” I asked.
“I don’t expect you to stop wearing the heels you’re accustomed to when you accompany me to different social functions. I’m sure you’d rather wear them as well. But that doesn’t mean you have to practice with Marcus in them.”
“So you bought me dancing shoes?”
“They match your outfit,” he smiled. “And nobody is going to see you anyway.”
“No… It’s not that. It’s just…”
I knew Thomas was serious about wanting me to learn how to dance. But holding the box of shoes just reminded me that I needed to ask him why again.
“Is this really what you want?” I asked him.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Mr. Livingston, it just seems strange, that’s all.”
“Why is it strange?”
“You still haven’t told me why you wanted me to take lessons.”
Thomas nodded his head as he started to walk away from me. He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he made his way to the phone. He took a moment to order some room service and I didn’t complain as he didn’t answer my question.
