The Alphabet Game the Complete Alpha Series a to X, Y, Z

by Andie M. Long

  After a shower and dressing, I call into The Riverside, the local coffee shop for our apartments. It’s literally, step out of the apartment block, turn left, left again and I’m in. I swear this is not the reason I took the apartment, though it certainly helped. I call in almost every day and quite a few evenings and this may be the reason why Col already has my Latte on the side with my name written on the paper cup.

  ‘Ha, I’m staying this morning, so you can transfer that to a proper mug,’ I challenge him.

  ‘Oh it’s a Princess day is it, only the best china will do?’

  ‘I’m celebrating. I have a new job, starting on Monday, so while you’re getting me a better receptacle, you can add a piece of that white chocolate and raspberry flapjack that’s looking at me tantalisingly from that display stand.’

  The cafe has many comfortable chairs and tables but I take a seat on one of the high bar stools near the window and Col places my mug and flapjack on the counter that runs below it. I like it here, I can people watch or turn and talk to Col.

  The door swings open and Veronica ‘Ronnie’ Huntington-Jones hurtles through, long blonde bob swinging.

  ‘Espresso, pronto, Monsieur,’ she yells at Col with an accompanying finger click.

  ‘Oh God, double trouble,’ he shakes his head. ‘Sit next to her, I’ll bring it over to you.’

  ‘Thanks honey.’

  She holds on to the wall to help hoist herself up on the seat. ‘You know I’m a titch, why do you always sit up here?’

  ‘I like the view.’

  ‘So do I,’ she says, admiring Col’s midriff as he stretches to put some mugs away and his top rides up.

  ‘We’ve been through this many, many times,’ I chide her, ‘Ronnie must not shag the Barista, because Stella needs her daily caffeine.’

  ‘You’re just no fun. There are loads of other coffee shops in London.’

  ‘Not next door there aren’t, so behave yourself.’

  ‘He’s not rich enough for me yet, so you’re safe, though I sure could use him for practice.’

  I’ve known Ronnie for the last couple of years since I moved into the apartment block. Hers is three doors further down than mine. We’d met outside her apartment on the corridor one night when I’d heard the most blood curdling scream and found her outside shaking, saying there was a mouse inside. It turned out to be rolled up cotton wool balls she’d thrown down on the floor when drunk. She’d not been too sober at that time either. Ronnie was the daughter of Penny Huntington-Jones, Socialite and Henry Jones, Entrepreneur, a close mate of Richard Branson. She’d been bottle fed champers and brought up largely by nannies. Like my own, her parents had bought her apartment as an outright gift. In her case hoping that home ownership would help her to grow up, with the bonus that any tantrums would be miles away from the family estate.

  I love her to bits, drama and all.

  ‘So, fill me in, asap. You got the job, yes, but what’s the rest of the gossip, I sooo need to hear something exciting?’

  I tell her about my very unusual Wednesday.

  ‘Gabe Gregory? You’re working with Gabriel? You lucky bitch. God I’d deal with his dick-tation any day of the week.’

  ‘Ronnie.’

  ‘Oh don’t tell me you didn’t consider it, or I’m taking you to a psychiatrist.’

  ‘He is bloody hot. I can’t get distracted though, I’m going there for a reason.’

  ‘Oh fuck that, bringing down your stepdad can wait. Let Gabe dick-stract you; honey you’re in dire need.’

  I pick up one of the newspapers Col has placed on the ledge and whack her with it. ‘Can you just behave.’

  ‘Seriously, Gabe used to hang with my crowd on and off in our late teens, though he mainly lived in New York. He used to be a serious party animal, but he’s been off the scene quite a while now. Gosh I haven’t seen him in an age. Wow, you’re going to be his’, she pauses, ‘Personal Assistant.’

  ‘There’s only you who can make Personal Assistant sound like Prostitute.’

  ‘Honey, how long is it now since you’ve had any? In all the time I’ve known you, you only dated Jimmy, idiot fucktard that he was. It’s about time you got back on the horse - and rode it hard.’

  I sigh. It has indeed been a long time. Eighteen months to be exact. I’ve probably re-virginised. Thank goodness for buzzing plastic friends. Ronnie doesn’t know but Jimmy is the only person I’ve ever slept with and if what he offered is what it’s all about, then to be quite honest I could live without it.

  ‘So are you two finished talking dirty in my coffee shop, or are you having another couple of drinks?’ interrupts Col.

  ‘Oh we’ve only just started,’winks Ronnie, ‘Have you got a bit of brandy for the coffees?’

  I make a barfing action, ‘Its ten-thirty in the morning.’

  ‘I’ve got to face the folks later, I need some sustenance.’

  I shake my head at her and address Col, ‘Do not put alcohol in the coffees.’

  ‘Never would.’ He points at Ronnie, ‘You’re wild enough without liquor.’

  She looks at him over her shoulder, and pouts ‘roar’ in a throaty voice.

  Monday morning comes around quickly. I dress conservatively in a pair of black skinny trousers; the most gorgeous black and white ankle boots which are inspired by a tuxedo; a white blouse; and black jacket. I’ve just added some mascara and a slick of clear gloss to my morning routine as the sun has been out enough this summer to give my cheeks a healthy glow that removes the need for blusher.

  On arrival at the office, I’m met by the Head of Personnel and the morning is spent completing paperwork and my induction. To say I’m disappointed to get to lunchtime and have not seen Gabe would be a gross understatement.

  ‘How long do we get for lunch around here?’ I ask Lorraine.

  ‘Usually thirty minutes but I’ve cleared it that you can have an hour today as Mr Gregory isn’t due in until two. It’s in his diary to follow up on your induction himself.

  ‘That’s great. Thank you.’ I say and head out to grab a quick sandwich, so I can spend some time making myself look effortlessly pretty in the bathroom before two. I berate myself for becoming this tragic woman and remind myself what I’ve joined the company for and it isn’t to stare at my new Boss’s hot bod.

  But, oh what a hot bod it truly is. I sit in front of him, in my new office. Today he’s dressed in a dark grey suit, his jacket open and his mauve tie lies askew across his pale lilac shirt. I want to walk over and straighten it for him. Is that part of being a Personal Assistant, to make sure the boss looks neat? I sure hope so.

  ‘So, I’d like to start with a typing test, which I apparently should have done at your interview the other day, but which for some reason I got distracted from.’ He gets up and gestures for me to take a seat in his chair.

  ‘Erm, sure,’ I say, moving to seat myself. It’s warm from where his own bottom has been and I kind of shuffle in the seat to get comfortable, whilst enjoying the warmth.

  He coughs. ‘Well if you’re ready, at the side of you is a document I’d like you to type. I prefer to write things out, rather than dictate them, so we need to see if you can decipher my handwriting, because I’ve been told I’d have made a good doctor.’

  I smile, which he no doubt assumes is at his little joke. However I’m actually recalling Ronnie saying dick-tation. I then find my eyes homing in on his crotch which happens to be at a similar height to the piece of paper I’ve to type from.

  ‘Do you need anything else?’ His tone is deep and assured.

  I shake my head. ‘I’m fine, you just get back to work and I’ll let you know when I’m finished okay? Are you timing me or anything?’

  ‘No, I just want to see how capable your fingers are.’ I flush and look at him, but he’s wandered over to extract something from his briefcase and isn’t looking at me. I must stop finding double meanings in everything he says. I don’t know what’s gotten into me since I m
et this man. Oh God, here I go again. I take a deep breath and begin typing.

  He interrupts me. ‘Here, I got this for you as a welcome present.’ Gabe hands me a dictionary, brand new, hardback and crisp. I pick it up, it’s heavy and I see he’s written in the inside page. ‘To Stella, to help you keep top of the game. Gabe.’

  I laugh. ‘That’s very kind, but you do realise we all look everything up on Google nowadays don’t you? Dictionary’s are so old-fashioned.’

  ‘Don’t knock what you haven’t tried. You might find you need that dic-tionary yet.’

  Is it my imagination or did he just emphasise that word exactly the same way as Ronnie did?

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it. There’s lots happening in the world of celebrity law.’

  ‘Okay,’ I reply, by now well into typing my test.

  ‘Well that’s great Stella, your work is as immaculate as you, yourself appear to be. I think we’ll get along fine.’

  I chew my lip as he speaks.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  I hesitate.

  ‘Come on. Don’t be afraid to talk to me. We’re going to be working together.’

  ‘Well, its about what you said about my stepfather and how you can help me.’

  ‘Well I have a plan for that, but I’m not sure I’m ready to share it with you yet.’

  ‘Well I’m ready to hear it now.’

  He raises an eyebrow. ‘Hmmmm, really? Well I think perhaps you may need a little teaching before we start any takeover initiatives.’

  ‘What kind of teaching? I have all my secretarial qualifications.’

  ‘That’s not what I mean.’ He leans back against the window, ‘Listen, it took you two years to get here Stella. It’s not going to take a couple of days to bring your stepfather down. He’s involved in some pretty heavy stuff and in order to get into it, you’re going to have to stop being so naive.’

  ‘I am not naive.’

  ‘Yes you are.’ He walks towards me and perches on the corner of the desk. ‘I didn’t get my part in this company just by being a rich daddy’s boy. I got here because I worked my bollocks off, grafting and making sure I knew everything, and I mean everything, I need to know to make this company work. That extends to you Stella. I’ve done my homework. I know exactly what your experience is.’

  ‘Well it’s on my CV for starters.’

  ‘That’s not the experience I’m talking about. Look, amongst other things, your stepfather and my father run a so-far discreet business of bars, that offer its clientele rather a lot more than a drink and a sandwich.’

  I gasp.

  ‘If we’re going to infiltrate them and be trusted to get involved,that reaction there is one you are going to need to lose.’

  ‘Is it drugs?’

  He shakes his head, ‘No, although I’m sure they’re available to. But no the clubs are all focused around sex.’

  My mouth falls open and my face flushes.

  ‘Did you think my father became a millionaire several times over just because the celebrities like his calm, unruffled manner? They get them in the clubs and then they have their business forever. Otherwise the threat of scandal is left hanging over their heads.’

  ‘So what do you propose?’

  ‘Well firstly Miss Mulroney, we need to stop you from blushing every time the word sex is mentioned. As I said I know exactly your level of experience. I had a Mr James Stanton in here a few weeks ago. It’s amazing what information he was prepared to give up for a price.

  ‘You did what?’ I stand up, knocking the letter and dictionary off the desk.

  ‘I did my research. I’ve told you I’m thorough.’

  ‘You had my ex-boyfriend tell you how I am in bed? That’s disgusting. I’m not some pawn in a game of Daddy Monopoly you know. I’m a person, with feelings.’ I grab my bag and head for the door.

  He’s there in seconds, his arm grasps mine and I feel the heat through his sleeve. His breath hitches and he turns me to him.

  ‘God Stella, I know. I have feelings too and I’ve been resisting doing this since the second you walked through my door.’

  His head descends towards mine and his warm lips crash into my own. He presses me up against the door, holding my face in his hand. His tongue slips into my mouth and I respond, pushing my body further into his, my breath deepening. I can feel the hardness of his chest against my breasts, my nipples hardening.

  He breaks off and looks at me with those grey eyes piercing my soul.

  ‘If you want to do this, I need you to say you’re totally in, Stella. For whatever I have to teach you.’

  I have no idea what I’m agreeing to, but I’m being ruled by the pull from between my legs and I nod, ‘I am. I’m in. Teach me.’

  He backs away from me. ‘Then you better go grab that dictionary off the floor Stella. Because we’re about to commence The Alphabet Game.’

  Chapter 3

  ‘What do you mean, The Alphabet Game. Do you have some weird schoolgirl fetish?’

  ‘Hey, don’t knock what you haven’t tried, but no. I am crazily attracted to you Stella. I want you. I’m rock hard right now thinking about you, but I want to teach you things. Life’s not all about innocent love-making. I want to fuck you hard, in different ways. You’re so innocent and I love that, but I want to know when I look at your angelic looking face that you can be such a dirty bitch. Can you be a dirty bitch, Stella, with me, are you capable, because that’s what I need?’

  ‘And I need to do this to bring down my stepfather?’

  ‘No.’ He gazes at me, a look of helplessness in his eyes. ‘I’ll help you get him anyway, even if you don’t agree to my proposition. It won’t be half as much fun though and you won’t be able to get him through the clubs. I’m not taking you there as you are, you’d be like a kitten in a club full of lions and their tamers.

  ‘What’s the Alphabet Game, Gabe?’

  ‘It’s a little something I thought up once I’d seen how damn smoking hot you are. It’s simple. We take it in turns to name a word following through the letters of the alphabet, but it has to relate to sex in some way. For example maybe A is for acquisition and I don’t stop working on that until I claim you. He bends his head down to my neck and nibbles the tender flesh there. Goosebumps appear down my arms.

  I pull his head closer to my neck and he growls in his throat.

  ‘Acquisition is too easy. I think you’ve accomplished that.’

  He lifts his head and grins at me. ‘Really, you’ll do it?’

  ‘Yes. I must be crazy but yes. I want to play your game.’

  He lifts me up in his arms, holding me close against his body and then lets me slowly slide back down the length of him.

  ‘Meet me tonight for dinner.’

  ‘Don’t you think seeing me day and night is a little too much?’

  ‘No. I don’t think it’s too much at all.’

  ‘Fine, dinner. But I’m not promising I’m putting out on our first night. I have some morals you know.’

  In reality, my innocence sexually is something that’s annoyed me for a long time. I’ve always felt there was a world out there I’d not gotten to know. Now was my chance and to be honest I couldn’t wait to get my hands on this man.

  ‘How can someone with the initials S&M have any morals?’

  I put my head down embarrassed. Oh my God, my parents have a lot to answer for. I was teased mercilessly for those initials at school.

  He shakes his head from side to side. ‘You are so easy to torment. I hope you tease easily in all ways.’

  He releases me and goes to pick up the dictionary. He hands it to me, along with my bag and my coat that I’d dropped near the door.

  ‘Your induction for work is complete. I’ll pick you up at eight for dinner. In the meantime,’ he nods towards the book, ‘be studying the words beginning with B very closely.’

  ‘B? What happened to A?’

  ‘I have A covered, you’ll find out
later.’ He runs his hand up my leg, glides it up my skirt and slowly cups my mound in his warm hand before moving his hand to create a little friction. ‘Here’s a clue. Now go before I take you right up against this door.’

  I leave, feeling so damn turned on and as jittery as if I’d mainlined twenty espressos.

  I’m quite relieved to close my apartment door. I have just short of two hours before dinner. I walk into my lounge and drop my coat across the back of the sofa and then I head for the main bathroom. There are two bedrooms at each side of the apartment, which my stepfather said was in case I had friends to stay. One of the bedrooms is separated from an en-suite by a large closet area and I use this room as my wardrobe, throwing clothes and shoes around until I can be bothered to tidy them up. That’s the problem with living alone, there’s no-one there to stop you from being slovenly. The other side is my bedroom, separate from the main bathroom and the only room I do keep tidy. It just contains a bed, a bedside table with lamp and a mirror. There are built in cupboards down the wall but apart from a few pieces of spare bedding these are empty. Coming out of my room and walking to the lounge you pass the kitchen, a fully equipped but small and compact space with mahogany units. The dining table is in an offshot off the lounge at the back, before the second bedroom. My lounge looks out over the Wharf. In my view apart from a vista of London is the O2 Arena and an array of workmen and diggers. Anyone who thinks the development of this area is finished would be mistaken. It’s often the diggers rather than the alarm clock that wakes me in a morning. I have a small balcony at the front of my lounge, hosting a silver metal table and two chairs. I very rarely come out here as although I’m not scared of heights, I do find the whole balcony look a bit precarious.

  I walk through to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of fresh apple juice and then take this through to the lounge where I collapse onto my lime green sofa. I kick off my shoes, sighing in relief. My apartment is plainly decorated with cream tones so the colour comes from the furniture and prints. I spy the clipper coming down the River, get up and throw open the balcony doors and then lay back down on the sofa.