Serving Mr. Stevens, Part Three: Masquerade -- An Erotic Romance (Part 3 of 5)

by Nathan Stratton

  I don’t know how this guy could do it – take me from the heights of suspicion, to the depths of despair, and back to this hot, sexy embrace in a matter of minutes. But right now, I didn’t care. All I knew was that I wanted him – now.

  Boldly, I grabbed his hand and clutched it to my chest. He took my cue and grabbed a handful of my breast, eliciting a hungry moan from my lips. My body yearned to go further, but out here on the rooftop I didn’t know if it was possible. Tearing myself away from him, I looked wildly into his eyes, knowing full well he could read the desire on my face.

  “Do we have time?” I asked him, and he knew exactly what I meant. He didn’t answer, instead choosing to crash his lips into my own for another hot kiss. Forgetting my question, I succumbed completely to the desire building within me. He pulled me back towards him and kissed me again, his hot tongue probing into my waiting mouth. God, I wanted him. He reached his hand down between my thighs as we kissed, just teasing me by lightly rubbing the inside of my thigh over the sheer fabric of my gown. I felt my body responding to his touch, that familiar need emanating from my core, all down my legs and up to my throat.

  He bit my lip lightly, sending a chill through my body and causing my eyes to flutter open in surprise. His eyes were wide open, and the intensity I saw there was almost frighteningly sexy. His look was one of pure, unbridled dominance, knowing full well that I was his to do with as he pleased. My lips parted with anticipation, ready to obey whatever command he gave me.

  But the joke was on me, for he pulled away again a moment later. “Actually, Candace, we don’t have time for this,” he said, and I couldn’t help but notice the sly grin on his face as he said it. He knew I wanted him, and he was clearly enjoying the chance to deny me the satisfaction. My sexual frustration was in danger of boiling over, and there was nothing I could do about it. I could have smacked him. “...Oooh!” I cried out, in utter exasperation.

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, my dear, there will be time for that later.” He went in for another kiss, but I turned my head away so that his lips landed on my cheek. My gesture of defiance only made him laugh more. I could see I wasn’t winning this one. Grumbling, I reluctantly let go of any amorous thoughts for the time being.

  “Oh, do cheer up, Candace,” he implored me, as he pulled me by the hand over to the elevator doorway. “Come on, we’ve got a party to go to! And trust me, even though you may not think so now, you’re going to have a wonderful time here. I promise.”

  I stepped into the elevator hesitantly, looking at him warily as I did so. “Well, what am I supposed to say to all these big-shots at the party?” I demanded. “I’m not used to all this fancy-shmancy socializing.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said. “I’ve arranged for Katarina to keep you company. She won’t leave your side the entire evening. Just follow her lead, enjoy yourself, and know that no matter what happens at the party, I’m never too far away.”

  Katarina? I thought to myself, rolling my eyes. Oh, great. As if nothing could make me more ill at ease at this party; now I had to deal with the so-called companionship of a woman who, I was quite sure, clearly detested me.

  But the elevator was already moving, and there was no turning back now. I might as well make the most of it -- this was part of the contract, after all. If Mr. Stevens wanted me to attend fancy parties with him, then that’s what I was going to do. And really, how bad could it be?

  “…There better be Champagne at this thing,” I muttered.

  Chapter 3: Man of the Hour

  As the elevator carried us downward, Mr. Stevens placed a hand firmly on the small of my back. I looked up at him, enjoying the feeling of his touch on my body, even though I was still pissed at him for stopping our make-out session a moment earlier. But my engine was still revved up, and he knew it. He traced a finger up my spine and ran his hand up to my neck, caressing the soft skin between my neck and shoulder. A chill ran through me. He knew I liked this; he knew that he could turn me on with the slightest touch. If it were up to me, I would have hit the STOP button on the control panel and let him take me right there in the elevator.

  But it wasn’t up to me, now was it?

  Just then, the elevator stopped, and a hollow chime rang out above the door. “We’re here,” grinned Mr. Stevens. I sucked in my breath, not knowing what was beyond the other side of the doorway, but preparing myself for whatever lay in store. Through the crack between the doors, I saw a bright, warm yellow light trickling in, accompanied by the muffled sound of voices from the room beyond.

  Finally, the doors swung open. With Mr. Stevens’ hand behind me, I stepped out into the bright light. As my eyes adjusted, I realized we were standing on a small balcony, looking out over a ballroom with an incredible number of people bustling around on it. Everyone was dressed to the nines: the men were in tuxedos, the women in fancy gowns. I had felt over-dressed earlier, in my royal blue sleeveless evening gown, but now I was glad to be wearing it. The light I’d seen was coming from an immense crystal chandelier, which hung in the middle of the ceiling as a fitting centerpiece to match the rest of the grand décor. The carpet beneath us was so plush and supple that I could feel my heels sinking into it.

  Somehow, it was exactly what I’d been expecting.

  But what I hadn’t expected was the reaction of the crowd to our arrival. As I looked down upon the party, I realized everyone was turning to look up at us. The conversation ceased; for a brief second, there was pin-drop silence in the room.

  Just then, a voice came booming from somewhere amid the crowd.

  “And there he is! The man of the hour!”

  As if on cue, the crowd erupted into applause, everyone reacting simultaneously to the announcement. Mr. Stevens had not prepared me for this. I didn’t know what to do; luckily, all their attention seemed to be on him, whereas I was a minor afterthought. He stepped forward now, into the light, leaning over the banister to receive their adulation. He put a hand up, trying to signal them to stop clapping, but they kept up their applause despite his gesture. What the hell was going on? I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I feel like I’m at the Oscars, I thought sarcastically.

  Finally, everyone stopped clapping, but they didn’t turn their eyes away from the balcony. They seemed to want a speech. A waiter came swiftly over to us and placed Champagne glasses in our hands, then fell away silently. “Well, Candace, at least you got your Champagne,” I muttered.

  But as with everything else these past few days, this glass of Champagne seemed to come with a catch.

  Mr. Stevens looked over at me and smiled, an amused glint in his eyes, as if to see how I was doing. I smirked back at him, letting him know I wasn’t too amused by all this commotion. He laughed out loud, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile along with him. He turned his attention back to the crowd below, raising his glass for a toast as they followed in turn.

  “To Peter Kearns,” he said, in a deep, commanding voice. He gazed out over the ballroom, watching the crowd hanging onto his every word. “Without him, none of this would be possible.” He seemed poised to say more, but fell silent, as if he couldn’t find the right words to convey his feelings. Instead of saying anything more, he simply raised his glass again. “To Peter!” he said, punctuating his brief speech with a flourish.

  “To Peter!” the crowd repeated. Looking out over the crowd, I saw many people’s faces break out into warm smiles as they spoke. As he put the Champagne to his lips, everyone below us followed suit. I still had no idea what was going on. I was so bewildered by the unfolding scene that I forgot to drink until Mr. Stevens looked over at me and raised his eyebrows in the direction of my glass. Hastily, I brought it to my lips and drank.

  As I swallowed the wine, my eyes widened with delight. Holy crap, I thought to myself. That’s good stuff. There were some definite perks to hanging out with the super-rich crowd, that was for sure. I brought the glass to my lips again, and this time, I drained it. I reasoned that if I was
going to have to put up with all this crazy nonsense, at least I was going to have fun doing it. I made eye contact with the waiter and motioned for him to bring over another glass.

  Meanwhile, the party below us had gone back to what it was doing, and their attention was thankfully off of us for the moment. Mr. Stevens turned to me and watched as I exchanged my empty Champagne glass with the waiter for a full one.

  “Easy there,” he said. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us, and I can’t have you falling asleep on me.”

  I grinned at him mischievously. “Oh, trust me, mister big shot,” I said. “I can handle my liquor. Now, can you please explain to me what’s going on?”

  He chuckled. “Not just yet. But for now, I will tell you that we’re at a fundraiser benefit for one of Peter Kearns’ charity organizations – and as you might have gathered, my company’s made a rather substantial donation to them.”

  I nodded thoughtfully, weighing his words. Something didn’t quite add up: I thought Kearns was Mr. Stevens’ mortal enemy, so I didn’t get why he’d be donating to one of his charities. Clearly, there was more to this picture than Mr. Stevens was telling me.

  But I wasn’t going to get any more information just yet. For at that moment, Katarina appeared beside us – looking absolutely ravishing, I noted with some jealously. “Candace!” she cried, by way of greeting. She followed it up with a huge hug and smile – odd, considering how she’d treated me earlier.

  “Uh, hi!” I responded, with considerable surprise. All of the iciness and sarcasm she’d shown to me earlier was nowhere to be found. It was suspicious, to say the least, but in this public domain I had to play along.

  “Ah, Katarina!” said Mr. Stevens. “Perfect timing, darling. It’s so nice that you could make it.” He leaned over to her, and she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. To any observer, the three of us would have looked like the perfect picture of three friends enjoying themselves at a cocktail party – I laughed to myself, thinking about how the dynamics of our little triangle were so very much more complicated than that.

  “All right, now,” said Mr. Stevens, “I’d better go mingle. I’ve got a lot of people to talk to at this party. You two watch out for each other, you hear me?” And with that, he was gone, having slipped off expertly into the buzzing crowd. I wasn’t nearly as adept at navigating fancy parties like this, and truth be told I was a little hesitant to leave our post on the balcony. But Katarina seemed to sense my anxiety, and took the initiative right away.

  “Come on,” she said, clasping my elbow lightly in a friendly gesture at looking at me with smiling eyes. “Let’s go get some appetizers. I’m starving.” She led me over to a large table, decked out in white linen, with a breathtaking array of hors d'oeuvres laid out upon it. They looked fantastic, and I had to admit, I was pretty hungry. Just loosen up, Candace, I thought, trying to chase away my nerves. You’re at a nice party, you might as well enjoy yourself. I took a few pieces of fancy-looking cheese, and what looked to be a bacon-wrapped fig. Katarina and I moved over to a nearby standing-height table. I looked around nervously, not sure what to say to her. But before I could think of some small talk, Katarina broke the ice.

  “I want to apologize for the way I acted yesterday,” she began. “I know I came off like a bitch to you, and I’m sorry for that. I was having a really stressful day at work, and Mr. Stevens hadn’t told me you were coming until the last minute.” She took a sip of her wine. “I’d really like us to start off on the right foot, Candace. So do you think we might be able to just, I don’t know… start over?”

  I eyed her suspiciously. Where was this coming from? I opened my mouth to speak, but realized I had no idea what to say. “I know, I know,” she continued, seeing my reaction. “It seems weird. And I’m sure you probably don’t trust me. But the thing is…”

  As she trailed off, her eyes darted back and forth quickly across the room, making sure no one was listening. She leaned in closer to me, and when she spoke again, it was in hushed tones.

  “…I know about your contract,” she whispered.

  Chapter 4: Party Favors

  My face went red, and I froze. It was all I could do not to gasp. How could he have told her about us? I clutched the tablecloth tightly, my knuckles turning white with tension. Still, I didn’t say anything.

  “I know this might be unpleasant for you to hear,” she continued, “but you have to believe me. I used to be under contract with him too – until he got bored of me. It’s what he does, Candace. I’ve seen it too many times. You think you’re safe with him now, but believe me, it’s not all fun and games with him.”

  My mind started racing. The shock of her words was hard to process. Plus, I still didn’t fully trust her.

  “…Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

  She looked at me with what appeared to be genuine concern. “Because I don’t want you to get hurt, Candace. Look, you have every right to be skeptical of me. But I’m telling the truth. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll use the free-will clause of the contract, and get out as soon as possible – while you still can.”

  An image of the contract flashed into my mind. I recalled the way Mr. Stevens had read the terms to me, so dispassionately. I could hear his voice now, firm and steady. “Condition three: You agree that you’ve entered into this contract with me of your own free will, and that you are free to exit the agreement at any time.” I had no idea then what I was getting into with Mr. Stevens, but I’d been all to eager to sign on the dotted line. If I’d thought about it more, I might have been too chicken to ever go through with it.

  But for all his suspicious behavior, for all the roller-coaster emotions I’d been feeling since I’d signed the contract with Mr. Stevens, I wasn’t ready to back out of this just yet.

  I turned my gaze back to Katarina. “Look, I appreciate your telling me this, I really do.” As I spoke, I watched as her eyes narrowed with disappointment, anticipating what I was going to say next. “But I’m not going to exit this arrangement yet. There’s still more I want to learn about Mr. Stevens. We’ve got some… unfinished business, you might say. I’m just not ready to leave him – but if and when that time comes, I know I’ll be able to do it.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she said hastily, with what seemed like anger. But then, catching herself, she nodded, accepting my words even though I knew she didn’t agree with them. “Look, I’m just saying that you should be careful,” she said finally. “It’s not as easy as you think.”

  But that was where our conversation had to end for now, even though I had so many more questions to ask her. For at that moment, two men came over to our table, holding cocktail glasses in their hands. They were distinguished-looking, older gentlemen, each impeccably dressed in formal black-tie attire, and they seemed to be looking to strike up a conversation – at least, I hoped that’s all they were looking for. I exchanged a quick, furtive glance with Katarina. She gave me a barely-perceptible nod, as if to say don’t worry, I’ve got this.

  “Good evening, gentlemen!” she cooed, instantly turning on the charm. I still found it unnerving how easily she could do that. “How are you doing tonight?” She offered her hand to one of them, and I followed suit, extending my own hand to the other. The men kissed our hands, and I had to stifle a giggle at the old-fashioned gesture.

  “How do you do?” said the man who’d kissed my hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Peter Kearns, and this man to my left is the illustrious Albert Henrickson.” They looked at each other and chuckled, as if sharing a private joke. Kearns and Henrickson? I thought to myself. I can’t believe it. What are these two doing together?

  Kearns was still talking. “… And we couldn’t help but notice you two beautiful ladies chatting with our business partner earlier…”

  “Oh yes, Mr. Stevens!” nodded Katarina enthusiastically, before I had a chance to speak. Meanwhile, my mental gears were whirring at a furious pace. I knew these men held
the key to Mr. Stevens’ secrets, and I had good reason to suspect they didn’t quite have his best interests at heart. But I was still helplessly, maddeningly in the dark about the details – and now might be my best chance to begin to figure it out.

  “That’s right,” said Kearns. “That rascal Tommy, he always has the most gorgeous employees. In fact, I believe we’ve met before – Katarina, is it?” She nodded again, giving him that hundred-watt smile of hers. Then Kearns turned and looked at me directly. The sudden intensity of his probing gaze sent an unsettling chill coursing down my spine.

  “But you, dear, I don’t recognize… tell me, darling, what is your name?”

  I pursed my lips, refusing to smile along as Katarina was doing. “I’m Candace,” I said flatly. “And no, we haven’t met.”