by Lucy Jones
Luckily, I was so busy that morning – with arrivals, departures and the visit of the Head of Personnel, Mr Guttierez -, that I didn’t have time either to be too annoyed at my verbal diarrhoea or to think about the effect that Daniel Wietermann had on me, or even to analyse his words.
Slightly before midday, I received a phone call:
"Hello, Miss Belmont. This is Candice, Mr Wietermann’s secretary. He would like to see you. Without delay."
She had added “without delay” after a short pause, kindly, as if she were giving me the information for my own good.
What does he want with me? Regardless of his earlier request, I was not completely at his beck and call!
Tom was at the reception desk with me.
"Is everything all right, Julia? You seem annoyed about that phone call…"
"Don’t worry Tom. Just a guest who wants to speak to me, but I don’t know what about."
"Another guest who’s hard to please…"
"Looks like it… Could you stay here on your own for a while?"
"Of course Julia. Good luck!"
There was no point telling Tom which client it was. I left my workstation and went to the lift.
I listened at the door to suite six-hundred and seven for a while before knocking. I couldn’t clearly make out what was being said, but I could hear Daniel Wietermann giving instructions in a commanding voice. I rang the bell. Candice opened the door. I had been struck by her stature when I had seen her crossing the lobby. With her long legs, slender build, generous chest, flamboyant red mane, pretty face and haughty bearing, she really was extremely classy.
"Come in Julia. I’ll tell Mr Wietermann you’re here."
Suite six-hundred and seven was the biggest in the hotel. I had read the description of the hundred and eighty metre squared apartment in the hotel brochure, but I had never entered the room. Alone in the entrance, I took a few steps as discretely as possible and had a look around. To the right, I discovered a living room whose decor and atmosphere were warm and personalised, a far cry from the standardised, characterless interiors which usually typify hotels. Candice had left the door on the left ajar. I could not see much, but by twisting a little I could make out a sort of large office, a meeting room, and I could see piles of small black briefcases. Suddenly, the door burst open, taking me by surprise. I jumped, broke out in a terrible sweat and blushed with shame at being caught spying. Daniel Wietermann was standing there in the doorway. I could clearly see on his face that he was preoccupied, irritated and annoyed.
"Julia. Over the next few days, it is possible that someone may ask for me. The name is Camille Wietermann. Whether I am here or not, you must say that I am absent. You and your colleagues – I’m relying on you to pass on the message – will not give out any information about me, my room number or my departure date, nothing. Do you understand?"
Did I really have to reply?
He stood there, still and silent. He was waiting. His frosty look obliged me to say “yes”. I was furious inside. I understood that my curiosity was not the cause of his annoyance, as he probably hadn't even noticed anything. I had made myself afraid, imagining that he might notice me, but he was far too focused on himself to do that. And if I wasn't the cause of his annoyance, why was I the target? And was it really necessary for me to come here for this? Before I turned away, I couldn’t help muttering that he could just as easily have told me that on the phone.
"Keep your insolent comments to yourself, Miss Belmont," he said aggressively and closed the door on me.
I was devastated and hated myself for it.
Why am I so sensitive to the way this man talks to me? Why do his demonstrations of coldness seem to take away the very air I need to breathe? Why, behind his charming appearance and kind words, was there a world of sensuality which stirred and aroused my body and heart? And who is this Camille Wietermann? His wife?
I had to pull myself together. When I got back to the lobby, I tried to look indifferent and asked Tom to look after reception, using the pretext of a backlog of paperwork to be filed; I shut myself in the office behind the reception desk without really waiting for his answer. I needed to be alone and lose myself in work which required more precision than thought.
Late in the afternoon, I went back to join Tom, calmed and slightly dazed by the daunting filing work. We were waiting impatiently for the next shift to arrive so we could finally leave our workstation, when Daniel Wietermann walked across the lobby.
"Wow, did you see the way that guy looked at you?"
I shrugged my shoulders. How did he look at me? Tom thought it was obvious that I had caught his eye. I burst out laughing to forestall the way the conversation was heading and hide my embarrassment. Two minutes later, the telephone rang and Tom answered:
"For you."
Mr Wietermann wanted to see me immediately. I had the unpleasant impression that I was a student summoned by the headmaster for something she didn’t realise she’d done wrong. I had a strong urge to tell him to get lost, but I was afraid of the consequences. And after all, perhaps he wanted to apologise? I took advantage of the fact that Tom was talking to the colleagues who had come to replace us and escaped.
"Come in!"
I closed the door of suite six-hundred and seven behind me. When I turned round, I discovered a very different Daniel Wietermann to the one I had seen that morning. His mask of hardness had been exchanged for a seductive air. Not knowing what to expect from this man who was by turns charming and distant, warm and cold, but also motivated by a kind of hope and still captivated by his good looks, I remained in front of the door without speaking.
He didn’t say anything either. He came towards me in a way which I found extremely sensual. He was very close, and came closer still. We looked at each other. The tension between us was palpable.
"You know, you're very attractive, Miss Belmont."
Me, attractive? Was he serious?
"Don’t look so astonished. What this suit you're wearing hints at is… stunning."
As he spoke, he moved his right hand over my left shoulder and down my side as far as my hips. Despite the barrier of the material, this light touch made me quiver.
"Those golden curls which always escape from your bun…"
And he slowly tucked a lock of hair back behind my ear. I closed my eyes so I could savour the moment better.
"The delicate nape of your neck..."
He stroked it. His touch was so enchanting. I felt all my resistance desert me. He was bewitching me with the tips of his fingers.
"These cheeks as fresh as dew…"
He put his hand on my face. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was finding it hard to breathe.
"Your dreaminess and the way you hold a pencil in the corner of your mouth when you are behind your desk… How I would love to be that pencil…"
And he ran his thumb over my lips.
Why did he not just kiss me?
I opened my eyes. He took a step backwards. Was he playing with me? I wanted to throw myself at him, but something made me hold back. He was in control, I knew it, I felt it.
Suddenly, he grabbed me quickly and almost brutally around the waist, pulled me towards him and kissed me forcefully. Our tongues entwined and our mouths twisted. I no longer knew where his face began and mine ended. I could scarcely catch my breath.
He pushed me back against the door and leaned against my arms so I couldn’t move at all. He was devouring my face and biting my lips. I could feel his hot kisses on my neck. My head was spinning. I uttered some sharp, almost stifled, sounds. This controlled violence was terribly arousing.
But then he pulled away brusquely. I was panting and gave him an enquiring look. His apparent character had changed, he looked serious. After a few seconds’ silence, which seemed to last forever, he said, with a hint of irritation in his voice:
"What is it, Miss Belmont?"
"I don’t know… that’s for you to tell me. It’s… this way you
have of becoming so… cold after being so… nice…"
He came closer, leant over me and said, between acknowledgement and regret:
"I am not nice, Julia."
After this verdict? This warning? Daniel Wietermann disappeared into his living room and I left the suite and ran back to my room. I threw myself into the comforting arms of my old armchair and closed my eyes. My lips still tasted of his kisses. But the bliss which I should have felt (He kissed me! That means he feels something for me!) was tainted with incomprehension and fear. All these enigmatic changes were totally disconcerting.
I stood up, grabbed my computer and turned it on, hoping for a message from Sarah.
* * *
From: Sarah [email protected]
Date: Friday 13 July 2012 9:21
To: Julia [email protected]
Subject: Thunderstruck at last!
What good news! Don’t be so worried, Julia, the turmoil you're feeling is completely normal. The feelings aroused by desire can often be disconcerting, but that’s what makes them even more exquisite. Reason doesn't really come into it. You think you are losing your mind, but you'll actually discover an important part of yourself.
And stop torturing yourself! So he’s rich? You’re not the same age? Is he really that old? Can’t you see how pretty you are? Sometimes I despair of you…
Stay true to who you are.
love,
Sarah
P.S. I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m going to join my family in our house in Sicily! Who knows, I might even bump into Luca again…
* * *
* * *
From: Julia [email protected]
Date: Friday 13 July 2012 22:07
To: Sarah [email protected]
Subject: Fire and ice
Everything seems so simple and so clear with you, Sarah. Your words are comforting after the trying day I’ve just had. I saw the man again several times but didn’t manage to work him out in the slightest. He is, by turns, Prince Charming and an ice-cold monster. It's making me really angry! He behaves like someone who just issues orders and likes everyone to be at his service. But there’s something I find irresistibly attractive about him.
I’ve just left him. Even though our exchange of kisses was very passionate, I am incapable of knowing what he feels. He ended our meeting very strangely, leaving me plagued by doubt, ignorance and fear.
I have to face facts, how could I be the object of his desire? He, as well as being married, could have beautiful women falling at his feet.
And also, I wonder how he made his money… I have seen black briefcases in his suite. Could they contain arms? And the two men who accompany him? Bodyguards? Assassins?
Enjoy your Italian holidays!
Baci,
Julia
* * *
The next day, nothing. Daniel Wietermann didn’t send for me at all, which annoyed and saddened me. He stayed in his suite and had meeting after meeting, judging by the procession of attaché-cases which passed through the lobby and the comings and goings of Candice, who welcomed and accompanied the businessmen, smiling warmly at me, but not saying a single word, whenever she walked past. She even found time for some luxury purchases between two meetings. Around six pm, she stopped by the desk. Despite her busy day there wasn't a hair out of place, her make-up was perfect and she showed no sign of tiredness; she looked immaculate.
"Well that was the last client. Mr Wietermann is expecting you at seven pm. Don’t be late."
I hoped that Tom, who had just arrived, had not heard this invitation, which had been accompanied by a wink from Candice.
"Hi Tom!"
"Happy birthday, dear Julia!" he said, opening his arms wide to hug me. For you. Tom held out a flat packet. He had slipped a note into a fold of the wrapping paper, saying “voucher for a proper celebration”. I tore open the paper. In a clip-frame was a magnificent drawing of a place in the city that we liked a lot, which Tom had drawn in Indian ink.
"Oh…thank you. Thank you, Tom, I said, very moved."
Five fifty-five pm. I found an excuse to leave. My curiosity had won out over my resentment. I knocked at suite six hundred and seven.
"Come in Julia! It’s a big day today! I am taking you out for dinner."
However pleasantly surprised I was, however jovial Daniel Wietermann was, I wasn’t going to get carried away.
"That’s very kind, but I can’t."
"Yes, you can. It has been arranged with Mr Guttierez."
Was this man all-powerful? Was it impossible to resist him?
"Go and get changed, I’ll wait here for you," he said, indicating the room behind the living room.
I tried to protest.
"Do me a favour, Julia, do what I say, you’re not going to the restaurant in your receptionist’s uniform," he said, drily.
In the bedroom, I recognised the bags with the haute-couture logos I had seen Candice carrying. They contained a black dress with a lace back, a set of satin lingerie and court shoes, all the perfect size for me…
As I crossed the lobby, I glanced apologetically at Tom, who was looking at me, stunned. One of the two men who accompanied Daniel Wietermann took us to an establishment in a completely different league to the places I had been to so far. Discrete atmosphere, exquisite dishes, I allowed myself to be carried away by the magical location and the excellent champagne. Daniel Wietermann was pleasant, he asked me questions and I replied politely. At dessert, he handed me a small packet.
"Happy birthday, Julia."
I had lost some of my shyness and reserve under the combined effects of Daniel Wietermann’s entrancing voice and the alcohol. I untied the ribbon enthusiastically, tore open the paper and found a small black box. I opened it. I was stunned and speechless to discover a magnificent diamond bracelet.
"I couldn’t leave a compatriot, and a very charming one at that, alone on her 20th birthday."
"I can’t accept it."
"Don’t refuse it, it makes me happy and it’s not much for me."
I was pensive during the journey back to the hotel. This dress, this evening, this gift… it all seemed excessive. What did it all mean? I couldn’t tell my benefactor what I was thinking. I did not want to seem ungrateful and I couldn't spoil this moment when he was being so adorable and cheerful.
When we arrived at my room, where he had insisted on escorting me, Daniel Wietermann pulled me towards him to kiss me.
"Invite me in."
We rushed into the room. His put his hands around my face, kissed my eyelids, my chin and my neck and bit my earlobes.
I was so absorbed in his kisses that I didn’t even notice that he had unfastened my dress and bra. In no time at all, I was almost naked opposite him. He looked at me. I was trembling slightly.
He carefully lay me down on the bed and began to lick my body.
The wanderings of his tongue over my skin overwhelmed me. When he took the tip of one of my breasts in his mouth, my budding arousal intensified.
He took off his shirt. His smooth, muscular torso touched mine. I could feel the heat of his body and I felt intoxicated by his woody aroma.
He slid my knickers down my legs and buried his head between my thighs. He licked the outside of my lips, then the inside. Then my clitoris. He lingered over it, licked around it, sucked it. The movements of his tongue were precise and sensual. They varied in length and their speed quickened. My pelvis rose, sank and rose again as my pleasure mounted. I moaned. I was about to implode, when suddenly Daniel stopped and moved his head away…
I stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Be patient, Julia, and be confident that your pleasure is the object of my desire."
As he said this, he took off his trousers and uncovered his erect penis. I looked at him pleadingly.
He then picked up his jacket and took a small shiny packet out of the pocket (I had been carried away by my arousal and had completely forgotten about a condom!) He tore it open and, look
ing at me, slid the latex onto his rod slowly, surely and intently, as if he wanted to make me wait for longer and enjoy looking at his penis.
Daniel came back towards me with the look of a predator who doesn’t want to scare his prey, lay on top of me and penetrated me gently. His slow backwards and forwards motion re-aroused my pleasure. My breathing became erratic. He gripped my hips tightly and began to move faster. I exploded with a cry and he came with a muffled moan.
Silently, Daniel stood up, got dressed and left, leaving me half asleep. I no longer knew anything, I was entirely overwhelmed by bliss and I could feel nothing else.
I would never forget my twentieth birthday.
3. A rough diamond
The reality of certain journeys can be the source of dreams. Daniel Wietermann had given me a one-way ticket to a new land and my first steps in this unknown territory had been promising. I felt like an explorer and I dreamed of unfurling the maps of pleasure and discovering them to the full. This stay in New York was definitely full of surprises and was constantly revealing new facets of my character.
Sleep had not diminished either my feeling of completeness or my desire; on the contrary, it had etched them onto me, carved them onto my being in a lasting memory and a permanent desire. I felt so different that morning and it felt as if my rapture were visible to everyone.
"You seem so dreamy, Julia. Are you here?" asked Tom in a worried voice tinged with sadness.
He made no reference to what he had seen the previous day and I was grateful to him for that. He must have suspected something, but he didn’t dare mention it and as for me, I couldn’t say anything, it was all too new and confusing for me to share it with him. But I felt that he was worried, like a protective big brother. I told him I was thinking about my impending departure, but that he was right, I was still here and I should make the most of it, so I proposed that we spend our next day off together.
