by Ann Raina
“Yes, yes, I’m all right. But I can’t go back! Not to my home! My car! Nowhere!”
“Have a seat, my child. You look like you’d fall any moment.”
She sat down on the edge of the chair in front of the desk, clasping her hands, not knowing how to tell him how frightened she truly was. Her heart beat up in her throat so hard she felt it like a living being.
“Do you want some coffee?” He waved his mug invitingly.
“Yes. Yes, please.”
“Good, that’s a better start into the day.” He walked to the coffee maker and spoke with his back to her. “Who attacked you?”
George’s voice, his very presence calmed Alyssa down. As usual, George was immaculately dressed. The dark blue polo shirt and the white pants were made for him, the blue boat shoes in white, red and blue a nice addition. Not for the first time she recognized that she adored her employer. He was a man to respect. He would help her. “I don’t know the men, really. Haven’t seen them before.”
“Good. Here you go.” He handed her the mug. “Little cream, no sugar.”
“Thank you.” She held the mug with both hands.
He sat down again, folded his hands on the table and gave her a fatherly smile. “Now, tell me, please, precisely what happened yesterday. How come you were in DC?”
“I was out, watched a movie.” She took a sip of coffee. It didn’t make everything better, but a bit. “After that I walked back to my car. The alley was rather dark. I didn’t see shit until they were right in front of me. Two goons, guns. They wanted to kidnap me.” She pressed her lips tight to stem the tears. “A friend of mine helped me out. Otherwise, I don’t know what would’ve happened. They had gotten me for sure.” The memory was bad, had haunted her through the night and would for many nights more. She looked up pleadingly, still shaken by the fact that there were people out there who wanted her so badly they had not just asked her to come. “I don’t know who’d want to do this to me, George! I know nothing important!” She saw him pale and try to save face. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice called that he had known something like this would happen. She wondered why. “George, do you know what’s going on? What was this about? These men? Do you know who they were?”
“No.” George Summerston took a deep breath, frowning with worry. He smoothed the paper on his table with his palms. “You sure you are unhurt?”
“Yes. I’m fine. As much as I could be.” She swallowed. The coffee tasted bitter. She placed the mug on the edge of the desk and put both fists in her lap. “George, please, I need you to help me out. They might still—”
“Did you call the police?”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “I took off and ran.”
“What about your friend? I suppose, it was a man.”
She nodded, lowering her chin as if to admit she had been wrong in taking him.
George huffed quietly. “Could it be that I even know the man in your company?”
“You might.” She looked up again, worry clear on her face. “Please, George, I can’t go home! They might still be after me.”
“Where did you spend the night?”
“In a hotel.”
“With him?”
“Yes.” It was a whisper. Alyssa felt like drowning. She had never before been threatened in her life. Not with abduction, anyway. Not with being killed if she didn’t oblige. She had always thought to control her life. She had been so wrong.
The door flew open and crashed against plaster. Kamal made a step into the room, his voice harsh with restrained anger, like a storm about to break loose. “I heard there was an attack on you last night. What the fuck happened?”
* * * *
Lady Summerston scrutinized her former handyman from top to bottom. Tousled hair, bruised chin and cheeks, unshaven, eyes hollow from lack of sleep. His clothes needed cleaning and his shoes a new polish. There was a cut on the back of his left hand and his knuckles were chafed. He looked deranged and—if she wasn’t mistaken—anxious. The way he walked indicated he was in pain, but he kept himself as upright as possible. Deep in her soul, in a place she would never admit to have, she longed for Matthew to be hers. A living toy. A man at her will, begging for her attention, hoping to be loved. Her heart beat faster, saliva got into her mouth and she needed her hands to be occupied. She wanted to grab him, to force him down and hear him submit. Reining her imagination before it ran wild was the hardest thing to do. “You reported an accident last night,” she said sternly, keeping eye contact until Michael lowered his gaze. Guilty. “What kind of accident was it?”
“I’m sorry, milady, it wasn’t a real accident. Two goons tried to rob me.”
“Did they succeed?”
“No. I got rid of them and ran.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “If you were able to run, why didn’t you come back last night? I heard that Ms. Monroe offered to send you a driver.”
“I thought it was better to stay at a hotel for the night.” He dared glancing at her, look and stance wary.
The impression of a wounded animal trying to save what could be saved wasn’t lost on Lady Summerston. She took a deep breath, bringing her thoughts to order. Smelling a lie was one of her gifts and she wouldn’t forgive herself if she let him get away with it. “Will it become a habit of yours to get engaged in brawls?”
“No, milady.”
“First, you side with Eric and win against three rowdies, drunk as fiddlers as I heard.”
“Patrick tends to—”
“I wasn’t finished yet.”
“Sorry.”
“You fight off three guys and now you even beat down two hoodlums of whom I assume to be gutter-trained. Tell me, Matthew, how’s that possible?”
“I was lucky, I guess.”
She did not even need to watch his fidgeting to know how frightened he was. “What was your last occupation again?”
“At Miller’s.”
Her eyes narrowed. Oh, yes, now he is frightened to the bone. “I phoned Mr. Miller and he said you were not quarrelsome by nature. I hope for you he was not mistaken.”
Michael pressed his lips tight.
She changed her tactic. “I assume you weren’t alone last night?”
“If so?”
“Don’t try to be fresh on me, boy. Who was the woman in your company?”
“What does a woman have to do with this?”
“I wonder about this robbery, Matt. About all you said.” She wet her lips. Her thoughts cruised around the man’s flat, muscled belly, his slim hips and how the pants rimmed his perfect butt. A leather harness would be a wonderful accessory. What would it be like to have him on the floor, looking up with the same pleading look? “I wonder what you don’t tell me. You either be honest with me or walk out without a job.”
* * * *
Alyssa shook with fright. Her encounter with the George’s Middle Eastern partner had been restricted to brief and unfriendly business talk. Kamal had not wanted a woman involved, but George had insisted, not knowing how Kamal would treat her. The situation had been a status quo, but now Alyssa wasn’t so sure anymore. Seeing him occupy the small, secret office, she thought she would be sick in a minute, no matter if George was with her and assured her with looks that everything would be okay. There was not enough air to breathe, and Kamal’s presence was a threat in itself. With bitterness, she realized how naïve she had been to suppose this would be an ordinary job. No sane employer paid a secretary five grand every month!
Kamal closed the door to the rear corridor forcefully and crossed the space between them with angry strides.
George got up, one hand lifted as if to stop him. “Wait a moment, Kamal, she was just about to tell me!”
“Yes, I’m here to listen.” His voice was dark and menacing. He pulled a spare chair from the corner and sat down like a rider opposite to Alyssa, elbows propped on the backrest. Their knees were touching, and she moved away from him. “Tell me, woman, tell me exac
tly what happened and don’t leave out a single detail!”
“She won’t remember a thing if you threaten her!”
“She’ll know what I mean,” Kamal replied without taking his gaze off Alyssa.
She wet her lips and took back the coffee mug to hold on to something. “We came back from the theater. We had watched a movie and were talking about it.”
“Who was the guy with you?”
Alyssa looked pleadingly at George, who turned to Kamal. “It doesn’t matter, just let her tell her what she knows!”
“It matters.” Kamal’s expression was grim enough to fear him. “Go on. Who is he?”
“Just a guy I’ve met a couple o’ times. No one important.”
“If you want to sit here for hours just go on! I want a name!”
“Matt. Matthew. I don’t know his last name.”
Kamal turned to George, his fury like a wave he could throw at the person he looked at. “You know him, right?”
“He’s with the escort service. His name’s Matthew Hathaway.”
Kamal’s brows furrowed as he directed his gaze to the young woman. His lips twitched, the closest he got to a mocking smile. “You date a man from here? Why? Are there no more men on the street fitting for you?”
“That’s not your concern.” Alyssa had a nervous twitch under her left eye. She tried to appear composed, but was too shaken to be convincing. “I went with him into the alley to fetch my car. There were two men.”
“Describe them. And be precise!”
* * * *
Michael sweated. How the hell did she know about the fight? Did she also know Alyssa had been in my company? He couldn’t afford to lose the job. Not now. “I don’t know what the goons truly wanted. They stopped us in the alley, there was a fight and I got hit. I fought them off so they couldn’t get to her.”
“So she was the main target.”
The conclusion rattled him. He tried to save face. “Like I said, I don’t know. The attack was quick and ruthless. I had no time to think. When we could, we took off.”
“Did you kill those men?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“But you didn’t check.”
“No.”
Lady Summerston imagined the fight. Darkness, two strangers with hoods, clubs out of nowhere. It was exciting to realize that this Matthew Hathaway, who looked like a true gentleman every woman would want, was able to win in a gutter fight. Her heart raced. So much power. So much strength and determination. She was jealous to the last brain cell that another woman had been at his side.
Ideas formed in the back of her head that were amazing and frightening at the same time. She cleared her throat. “Where did you go?”
“To a hotel.”
“With her?”
It cost Michael to nod.
Lady Summerston pursed her lips. The urge to reprimand her favorite callboy was overwhelming. She wanted him on his knees, begging her for forgiveness, even if it was just for the absurd fact that a woman instead of her had been the watcher of his victory. The thought made her wet, dizzy with desire. She was glad to sit and have the wide desk in front of her. It was an effort to keep her voice strong.
“Let me sum up. You fought for her, took her to a hotel where she spent the night with you and now you show up here with bruises and cuts and what more. Did you see an ER?”
“No, it wasn’t necessary.”
“Oh, really? So I rightly assume that this woman helped you out?”
“Listen, Lady Summerston, I had a free day and I can spend those days with whom I want. I don’t need your permission.” The words were out and he wished he could take them back. Lady Summerston looked mad enough to fire him on the spot.
* * * *
Alyssa recalled the coats and hats and all details she knew about their faces.
Kamal ground his teeth. “Your description is worth shit!”
“How did you know about the attack beforehand? I didn’t tell the police, I told no one until now! How do you know of it?” She pressed back tears. She was afraid to get hurt when she saw Kamal clench his fists. Looked at it in daylight—could it have been Kamal who sent killers on her track? It was an awful thought and she trembled with fright.
“I have my sources. Now, what happened after they showed their guns to your faces?”
“They said they wanted me. So Matt took off.”
“He left you.” Kamal and George snorted in unison. “Very much gentleman, ey?”
“I was handcuffed and they threw a hood over me. Then they brought me down the alley.” She had feared for her life. She had been afraid of torture. For a moment, she closed her eyes. The room spun around her so she ripped them open again, only to look into those fierce black orbs that gave her the creeps.
“Alyssa, what happened then?”
She looked up at George. His friendly face was worried beyond belief, but he urged her without words to continue.
“I heard a fight. Matt had come back. He took one out with a bar of some kind. A handle maybe. I heard the impact and the scream. Then he fought with the other. He won. Smashed him at the window.”
“He freed you. What did you see?”
“It was dark, and I didn’t want to stay. I urged him to leave.”
“He wanted to call the police?”
“Of course he wanted to call the police!” She was close to shouting at him and only George’s warning glance caused her to keep her voice low. “He’s an honorable man! I persuaded him to just leave.”
“Are you sure he didn’t call the police on the way? On his cell phone, maybe?”
“He didn’t. I was with him the whole time. And he was in no condition to want more than to lie down.”
“You didn’t go to a hospital?” Kamal was more than suspicious as he leaned forward to stare at her face.
Alyssa looked away immediately. Her actions had been foolish, she knew, but in the situation, it had seemed like a good idea. “No. We took a hotel room. I took care of his wounds.”
“Lovely.” Kamal smacked his lips, then turned to George. “Do you believe a word she says?”
“I do.”
“Maybe she just thinks she can get out like this. Get this Matthew on her side. Tell him things.”
Alyssa shook with fear. Her eyes were wide. “I didn’t tell him a thing! He asked me if I knew the men and I said no! How should I know them? Who were they, for God’s sake? Why did they attack us?”
Kamal rested his fierce glance on her again. “The enemy never sleeps. Isn’t that what you say? That enemy wants you, thinks you know about our operation.”
“But I don’t!”
Again, he turned to George, anger vibrating from his body like an otherworldly energy. “She stays here. Under your supervision. I don’t want no more disturbances.” He stood abruptly.
Alyssa winced as if hit, shying away from his outstretched finger.
“And you, woman, better do what you’re told or I might find you no longer a trustworthy person.” He stared at George, long and hard, letting him know his thoughts. “I had this before. I handled it.”
He left the office.
* * * *
She wanted a whip and hit him. “Your freedom ends when it comes to this house, Matthew. I won’t tolerate any kind of fraternization among the employees. You are warned! There’ll be more than a reprimand next time I see you with someone from the staff! Do you understand me?”
“Loud and clear.”
Again, she wanted him to kneel and beg her, to make up for his belligerent tone. His eyes could express so much compassion, even love. Right now they were fierce, angry. The way he stood there, five feet away from her desk, full of vigor and hardly suppressed anger, he reminded her of Charles while delivering speeches to hotel managers. He had been polite yet firm, appropriate in his choice of words but clear enough to let them know his determination. He had been rough with words when needed. Oh, yes, he had had perfect control of his staff
! After such a day, he had often asked her to take command over him—to subdue him, to take over decision so he could relax and be himself without the pressure to represent a firm.
Lady Summerston took a deep breath. She wanted to rein Matthew’s anger her way, make him obey even if he didn’t want to. The thought made her sweat and triggered an intense feeling down low in her body. Why do I restrain myself at at all? Lady Summerston glared at Michael, cause of her inner turmoil. “Without knowing your present condition, I made an appointment for you this afternoon. Do I have to call it off or will you be able to perform?”
* * * *
Michael thought of a hot shower, fresh clothes and ten hours of sleep after a hearty meal, but he nodded, determined to not anger her any further. He didn’t like to be under her heel like this, but choked on his rebel nature and nodded once.
“Good,” she said as if she hadn’t expected a negative answer. “She’ll be waiting for you in the Starlight Suite. Five PM.”
She glanced at some papers on her desk so he knew he was dismissed. Michael turned on his heels and walked back toward the door.
* * * *
George leaned back in his leather armchair, steepled his fingers in front of his nose and fell silent. He had not asked what had happened to Habib, instead had followed the newspaper articles of recent homicide. The unidentified body in the alley behind a Chinese restaurant had caught his eye. Police information was sparse, no more than a short description, but it sufficed for him to know that Habib was dead. George had not slept well since then. He had tried to convince himself that Habib had been a spy—for whom he could not tell—and that he had deserved punishment. But murder? He did not want to be held responsible for a man’s death! And now Alyssa was in trouble. Kamal’s threat was for real, he didn’t doubt that. What is there to do? How can I save what there is to be saved and get rid of Kamal?
* * * *
Alyssa stifled her sobs and groped for a handkerchief to blow her nose. The radio was on and Neil Diamond’s soft voice bore a sharp contrast to Kamal’s harsh words still echoing in her mind. She lifted her gaze, but there was nothing on the walls to distract her. No framed pictures, no landscape paintings. A pin board with notes was the only decoration on the paneling behind George’s desk. On her first visit to this office, she had found it cold and non-telling. Later, she had been allowed into George and David’s private apartment on the premises and understood the meaning of his nondescript office. David had turned the apartment into a flowery yet tasteful exhibition of pictures, paintings and innumerable nicknack. If George had ever allowed David to start with the office, he would never have stopped adding useless pieces. David was a person so bound to his home and loved ones that Alyssa wondered what he would do if the love between George and him ever cooled.
