by Anthology
“I came back because I wanted to meet you,” I reply in his native Norwegian giving his hand a squeeze. He pulls me a little tighter. His large hand is planted firmly in the small of my back. I am in the arms of one of the most powerful men in the world. The gravity of what is about to happen weighs on me like a great iron safe full of secrets and lies.
He looks shocked at first hearing a voice from home here in London. “Where are you from, my dear and what brings you to London?” he asks eyeing me suspiciously.
I bat my eyes and look up at him hesitantly. “I was born and raised in Bergen. I am studying clinical medicine at Cambridge. One of my best girlfriends at University works for Madame Gadero. When she told me of your party … Well … I just had to meet you,” I say with all the innocence and eagerness of a school girl meeting her idol.
“Of course you did, my dear. Call me Erik will you, darling.” His smug self-confidence oozes from every gold seam. He can have any woman in here and he knows it. But he is with me. I have to keep it that way. I trace my fingers back and forth along his shoulder as we move in circles. He is smiling down at me and I can almost picture X in his place. “You are truly exquisite,” he whispers against my ear. I feel him breathing me in. He groans and I can tell the pheromones are working.
This is all business but I need him to feel the same exhilaration that X gave me. I need him to want to trust me. I close my eyes and imagine X has me wrapped in his arms. “There is nowhere in the world I would rather be than in your embrace. I’ve waited all night for the chance to be with you,” I whisper and he pulls me tighter to him.
His strong hands remind me of X’s. My drug infested mind plays tricks on me. Under the mask even his eyes seem similar. I know this is all in my head which is spinning out of control. I let my head rest on his shoulder when the tempo slows. I long to keep my eyes closed until this is all over but I know better. I likely won’t survive the night. The clock is ticking and I have a job to do.
The Lord and Lady Hedrick waltz over to us in all of their finery. I can’t get over the intricacy of their costumes. This close I can see the sheer beauty of her stunning gold mask adorned with bright green filigree, and covered with emerald and diamond accents. She reminds me of Mother Nature. A large plume of green and gold feathers jet off to one side like a beacon and bob and sway with her every movement. Her dress is truly fitting for a royal. The yards of rich fabrics have been custom designed just for her. The emerald gown is the same deep green as X’s eyes. The fine gold lace that covers the bodice shines as if the threads are made of real gold. Small and medium emeralds and gold ingots form a high waistband before yards of satin and tulle spill carefree to the floor. She laughs and talks to her husband as she looks up at him adoringly. I can’t help but feel a little jealous of their bond.
That life isn’t for me. I am a harlot, a siren, and I have a job to do. Erik talks about an upcoming meeting with Lord Fredrickson. I memorize the details but remain silent. To him I am a decoration to be used as he pleases. That’s exactly how I like it. I will keep quiet, he will never suspect me. I am at home in the shadows and the lies. I will be his arm candy through every deal, every encounter. Only a trophy, they won’t even know I’m here. I will learn all his tricks, and at the end of the day when we are finally alone he’ll never know what hit him.
The music picks back up and we are once again on the move. “You dance like an angel, my darling. So light on your feet. What is your name?” he asks as he parades me around the room so that every man here can see his prize.
“Does it really matter?” I ask honestly. I am very aware of his reputation with women. I smile at him like a naïve kitten with star struck eyes. The surprised but amused smile on his face tells me we both know the truth.
“Humor me,” he replies and toys with my hair. Dark locks are finding their way out of the updo. He wraps his thick fingers around one and caresses it fondly.
“Lorelei,” I respond and hide the cringe I feel inside. The last thing I want is for him to take me traipsing through the garden to some midnight fountain and find X unconscious with his pants down.
He says nothing for a moment but looks me over as if he is trying to gauge if I am telling the truth. My heart rate picks up. I’m blowing this. Why didn’t I just choose a respectable name like Carmen, or fucking Jane. “My mother was a bit of a romantic,” I explain, heat rising in my cheeks.
His face softens, he must find my embarrassment endearing. “It’s lovely, my compliments to your mother.” He gave me a twirl and then pulled me back to him. “Lorelei, it’s my pleasure to meet you.” He takes my hand and kisses it. The scene is all too familiar. I guess it should be no surprise that X learned his Casanova ways from his mentor. I know better than to fall for their charms.
We move past the great clock and the hands taunt me. Only forty minutes left. How will I ever finish in time. I need an excuse to leave the party with him. I need to get him alone. If I seem too eager, though, he may lose interest or worse suspect something and have me detained. The flame from a fire breather comes a bit too close and shatters my thoughts. I gasp and cling to Erik.
“Relax, my darling,” he soothes in his thick Norwegian accent. His strong arms are like tree trunks. It is no wonder he has crushed his competitors. Erik rose to power in the shipping industry in the late seventies. He is known to be shrewd and ruthless but a genius they say at predicting which shipments are worth the gamble and which are not. The shipping industry is one of great risk and even greater reward. No matter what my personal feelings are I have to admire his skill.
But personal feelings have no place in what I am about to do. This is all business. Something he would understand completely. I wonder for a moment if we had met under different circumstances if we would have been allies. I shake the thought from my head. Thoughts like that will get me killed. I let my fingers trail up and down the exquisite fabric of his suit. So this is what a forty-five-thousand-dollar suit feels like. I can hear mother telling me fabric doesn’t make a suit, the man makes the suit. I have to agree, Mr. Hook is a force to be reckoned with. Ironic that a man so great will fall at the hands of someone as small and insignificant as me.
The music stops, the lights dim and a single spotlight shines on the center of the conservatory floor. Everyone stops moving. Erik wraps his arm around my waist and we wait. At first nothing happens. What the hell is going on? I look up at him but he just nods toward the center of the floor where a single white sash has dropped from the ceiling all the way to the floor. An absolutely gorgeous blond woman in a shimmering leotard slides down the sash one leg wrapped around it and her arms gracefully out to each side. She is an aerialist of unmatched skill and ability. Her skin is covered with some kind of glitter and she radiates every beam of light. A second sash drops to the floor and a slow mysterious serenade begins. I watch her in awe as she seems to roll and twist up the ropes. Her strength and grace remind me of gymnasts on the rings defying gravity with each breathtaking move. Something about her is very familiar but I can’t place it. I can’t take my eyes off her. She rolls down the sashes rapidly almost hitting the floor and the crowd gasps. When she is only a few feet off the floor she stops suddenly and tips her head back. Our eyes meet. Shit! I know her.
She spins away and rolls back up the sash but I am frozen with fear. My heart pounds like a bass drum in a great marching band and a sheen of sweat breaks out on my palms. It is a full minute before I remember that I am wearing a mask and standing in the dark. There is no way she could have recognized me. My mind flashes back to the last time I saw her. Her bright blue eyes were wide with fear, her pale face strained from lack of oxygen as my hands closed in around her throat. Then the rush of pink as the blood returned when they pulled me off of her. I was just a child but that was the day my life changed forever. My, what different roads we have traveled. Yet here we are.
“What’s the matter, darling? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Erik tips his head in concern. Damn
that mask, I can’t tell if he is serious or patronizing me. Does he know? How could he? This night is so fucked up. “If you would like I can introduce you after the show,” he offers.
“You know her?” I ask hesitantly. He nods and gives a half grin that tells me, he knows her very well. Of course he does. This small world is coming full circle. But then that’s the whole point isn’t it? I remind myself. What will I do if she recognizes me? I fight down the panic. The crowd cheers as she performs another death defying feat. Breathe, I remind myself. There is no way, different eye color, hair color, different language and accent. My own mother wouldn’t recognize me. Still the closer we get to the end of the song the worse my nausea becomes.
She twists to the top and drops for one final grand display and the moment I have been dreading finally arrives. The lights come up and Erik takes me by the hand and leads me over to the beautiful woman she has become.
“Sasha. So good to see you.” He embraces her and kisses each cheek.
“Erik, my love, thank you for inviting me. I hope the show was to your liking.” Sasha hugs him back with a familiarity that makes my skin crawl. She turns to me and smiles raising her eyebrows. “Who’s your lovely friend?”
He places his massive hand on the small of my back possessively. “Sasha this is Lorelei.”
“Lorelei …” She repeated as if she was tasting a wine she wasn’t quite sure she liked. “Interesting name yes? Like the story. The fish girl … yes?” Her English was still partially broken with her Russian accent.
Siren, you bitch. I think as my cheeks flush. “Something like that,” I answer as sweetly as possible.
Suddenly she cocks her head to the left. “Have we met?” she asks and looks me over. Bile rises in the back of my throat.
“I don’t think so.” I furrow my brows as if I am searching my memory for a time when our paths may have crossed. “Did you ever come to Bergen to perform with Les 7 doigts de la main?” As the second largest city in Norway, Bergen is a perfect place to be from without having to know any common acquaintances.
“No, but I have seen their show. Marvelous,” she replies. “Still, you are quite the picture. There is just something familiar about you.” She takes a sparkling finger and trails it down my bare arm to the edge of my silk glove. The drugs heighten every physical contact and I shudder at her touch but do not pull away. A beam of satisfaction spreads over her face.
Shit. “Maybe I just have one of those faces,” I stammer although half my face is covered by the mask.
“Maybe,” she answers smugly, not at all convinced. “I wouldn’t mind exploring further though,” she adds and twirls a loose lock of hair in her fingers. I fight the will to stiffen and plaster a smile on my face. I have always hated her playing with my hair. Does she know it’s me? Before I can say anything Erik jumps in.
“Care to join us on my private terrace for the fireworks?” he asks Sasha and gives me a squeeze. “There is always room for one more.”
“Oh Erik, I would love to but I am supposed to meet X. Have you seen him?” Her eyes flash with excitement at the mention of his name and I can’t help the stabbing jealousy that spreads like poison in my bones. “We have … um … plans this evening,” she says and gives Erik a wink. “Next time for sure. If I don’t know this little doll I would like to.”
“He’s here, I saw him earlier,” Erik answers. She kisses us both on the cheek and then takes off in search of X. I hate the thought of her with my moonlit god in the garden. I resist the urge to chase her down and strangle her with her own sash. I have to get the image of the two of them out of my head. X is of no consequence, I remind myself. I have known him for about a minute. He is no one. Except now he knows I am potentially dangerous and he knows I am looking for Mr. Hook. What if he wakes up in time to stop me or have me arrested? What if those stupid panties didn’t get soaked and he is able to track me down. Shit. He was a mistake that I never should have let happen and never should have let him live. But I just couldn’t do it. I will never be able to tell mother about this. A thought creeps in and grips my soul. What if I can’t go through with it with Mr. Hook? What if when the moment comes I can’t do it. I feel dizzy and sway into Erik’s arms. He catches me and holds me close.
“Beklager,” I apologize still holding to his arms. “Perhaps I had a bit too much champagne.
“Ikke bekymre deg kjære,” he tells me not to worry. “Darling, let’s go to my private terrace to watch the midnight fireworks.”
I flash my big eyes up at him. That would be perfect. “Fireworks on the terrace?” I ask and give his arm a squeeze. “Those don’t start until midnight. We still have twenty minutes.”
“I’m sure we can find a way to pass the time,” he replies with a smile that could eat Kansas and he grabs a firm hold of my butt through the red fabric. “Yes, I’m sure we will find a way.”
He leads me out of the great conservatory and down a long marble hallway to the attached Syon Park Hotel. He has guards positioned at the entrance and guests are showing their room key to enter. Mr. Hook just nods at them and they open both doors in a grand gesture. They all work for him. When we enter the large open lobby every staff member is at attention and turn to watch us as our footsteps echo in the great space across the tile and wood floor. It is suddenly apparent he has rented the entire grounds, hotel and all. He truly is like a king in a castle. He nods and bids hello to each of them as we pass like royal subjects. The modern decor is somehow warm and inviting although I feel a bit like Alice with the oversized furniture and massive chairs.
The elevator attendant holds the door and we step inside the tile and mirrored enclave. Without asking, the attendant selects the top floor and we begin to rise. Erik stands behind me his arms wrapped around my waist. He exchanges knowing glances with the attendant. I am a prize he has won, a trophy to be manipulated as he sees fit. This time, my dear, it is the fly who lures the spider. I just hope I can outlast the effects of the drugs to get the job done. My head is spinning faster than The Eye of London. Round and round it goes. I close my eyes for a moment and all I can see is X and his beautiful green eyes looking back at me. Why of all nights did I have to meet him tonight. The thought of him in the moonlight causes a shiver to run over my body and a slight moan to escape my lips.
Erik shifts behind me and presses his thick bulge against my hip. I almost jump as my fantasy is broken and I realize once again where I am and what is about to happen. He groans and grips my thighs tightly pressing himself against the back of my dress. The elevator attendant looks away and pretends not to notice. Is he really going to take me right here in the elevator?
Mercifully the car stops. We have arrived at his penthouse suite. The entry hall is silent. I look around the silver and deep blue décor, it reminds me of an antique ice palace. The attendant leaves the elevator and opens the large black wooden double doors, to welcome us to Erik’s home for the evening. I realize that when I leave I will have to go back down that same elevator. Perhaps there is a staircase here somewhere. But that would seem obvious. Shit, the drugs are already giving me paranoia. I don’t have much longer. I contemplate turning and running back into the safety of the car and begging the attendant to call me a taxi or better yet an ambulance, but I have come too far to turn back now. Whatever mistakes I have made are mine to pay for.
“This way my love.” Erik motions me into the suite. The frosty midnight decor continues into the formal dining room. A large glass and mirrored table is surrounded by six deep blue gray upholstered chairs. A crystal chandelier hangs over the dining area. I set my small clutch on the table. He walks on into the living area and goes over to the mirrored bar and removes his mask. With the click of a remote the suite is filled with slow sultry music. The kind I want to make love to all night long. The melody and bass work together to incinerate my panties and get my hips moving before he even touches me.
The sofas are made of the same fabric as the dining chairs and the coffee table seem
s to be a smaller version of the table. “I would offer you a drink, darling, but it seems perhaps you have had enough for now.”
I start to protest but realize I am holding onto the table for support. Hesitantly, I reach up to remove my mask as he had done but he stops me.
“Keep it on,” he instructs. “I like it.” Thankfully, I comply. I can see the bedroom behind him. The bed catches my eye. I have never seen anything quite like it.
“Is that a four poster bed made of mirrored glass?” I ask perplexed. Each of the posts and the sides are like giant prisms jutting up out of the floor with deep blue leather upholstery on the headboard surrounded by the same mirrored glass.
He laughs a hard carefree belly laugh at my naïvety. “Stunning isn’t it? Nancy has been a friend of mine for many years.”
“Nancy?” I ask confused. How many women am I going to have to contend with tonight?
“Nancy Corzine, the designer,” he clarifies. “This entire suite is designed around her mirrored collection. It’s almost magical. Perfect for a Siren of the sea. Don’t you think, darling.”
I nod but I have to get a closer look at the masterpiece and I am already walking toward it. The reflective work of art is positioned against the far wall of the room. The thick deep blue and dusky silver billowy bed linens complement it perfectly. “This is magnificent,” is all I can manage to say.
“Wait till you see this.” He is still chuckling as he throws open the heavy drapes and turns off the lights. Moonlight spills into the enchanted room and reflects off every surface, sending fractals of light like icicles dancing about the room.
If I am to die tonight I am thankful to do it in this room. I only hope to be able to haunt it for eternity. He walks back into the living area to gather his whisky and returns to me. I know as soon as he stands close it is the Balvenie. Immediately I think of X. I both love and hate that he affects me so. I wanted to taste him desperately. I never dreamed I would meet someone like him. I wanted him to hold me and kiss me slow in the moonlight. I close my arms and imagine that once again we are dancing in the dark. I can feel his arms around me as we moved barefoot on the grass to music that drifted through the trees. It was perfect. I know that I will cherish the memory for as many days as I have left.
