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

by Nathan Stratton

  He laughed as if I’d made a charming joke. “No, I should think we haven’t!” he chortled. “I’d remember a face like yours, believe me.” He turned to Henrickson, who was still standing there silently with a blank expression on his face. “Don’t you think so, Albert?”

  He blinked once, slowly, and then turned lazily to face me. He seemed completely out-of-it. “…Yes,” he said finally, “I should think so.”

  I shot a frantic look at Katarina. I got a definite creepy vibe from these guys, and I didn’t know why they’d come over here or what they wanted. Get me out of here, I tried to communicate to her. Luckily, she noticed my distress, and hastened to lead the conversation.

  “Enjoying the party?” she asked them. “It’s really a splendid occasion, isn’t it? And the charity is such a good cause, too!”

  For some reason, this made Kearns laugh even harder. It was as if the whole thing was one big joke to him. “Oh, it’s marvelous!” he said, his voice full of mirth. “But surely you must have expected this – didn’t old Tommy tell you the details?”

  “What details?” asked Katarina. But before Kearns could answer, Mr. Stevens suddenly appeared at our table. I have to say, it was a relief to see his face. We exchanged a brief glance, and I thought I saw a troubled expression in his face, just for an instant. But it disappeared as soon as it came. He strode up between the two men, brimming with confidence, and slapped them amicably on the back.

  “Well, look who it is!” he cried, and let out an exuberant laugh. “Kearns and Henrickson, my partners in crime.” He laughed again, shaking each of their hands enthusiastically. “How are we doing, boys? You’re not bothering my most valuable employees, I trust.”

  “Oh, of course not, Tommy, you know us better than that,” Kearns replied. Everyone was laughing continually, but I couldn’t help but detect a false note underlying all the boisterousness. Clearly, it wasn’t all fun and games between these men.

  But for the moment, I wouldn’t be able to find out any more about what might be going on between them. “Ladies, would you excuse us a moment?” Mr. Stevens asked. “We’ve got some boring business things to discuss here. I’m terribly sorry to interrupt.”

  He looked at me pointedly, as if trying to communicate more with his eyes than what his words were saying. Thank you, I mouthed to him. I was all too happy to leave this conversation. At least it seemed as though Katarina and I were off the hook, for now.

  “Certainly, sir,” said Katarina. “I was thinking we might want to check out the… fourth floor.”

  Something about the way she said those words made me cock my head curiously. The fourth floor? What was so special about that?

  “An excellent idea,” grinned Mr. Stevens. “I’ll join you there later. And Katarina, please do keep an eye on Candace. I’m trusting her in your care.”

  “Of course,” Katarina replied. She nodded graciously to the other men, bidding them goodbye. “Gentlemen,” she said. And with that, she turned on her heel, and walked primly away from the table.

  “Uh, see you later!” I said to them, and hurried after her before they even had a chance to respond. As I caught up with Katarina, I grabbed her by the arm, trying to get her to slow down a minute and fill me in on the details.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” I asked. “What’s on the fourth floor? And by the way, what’s up with those guys, Kearns and Henrickson? They gave me the creeps.”

  “God, me too,” she groaned. “I’ve met them a few times. Mr. Stevens doesn’t tell me much, and I try to stay out of it. But from what I can gather, the three of them are in some sort of power struggle – they’re all trying to take control of the company, and Mr. Stevens seems to think these other two guys are conspiring to backstab him. That’s all I know, but believe me, it’s best to avoid them.”

  I nodded, trying my best to take in all she was telling me. What she’d said made sense; I’d pretty much figured all that out already, anyway. But I was more curious about my other question.

  “Okay, that’s fine… But what about the fourth floor? What’s going on down there?” I asked again.

  She paused, winked, and gave me a devilish grin. “You’ll see,” she said. “Come on!”

  Grabbing two more glasses of Champagne, she skipped over to the nearest elevator. As the doors opened, she handed one glass to me.

  “Drink up,” she said. “Now it’s time for the real party to get started.”

  Chapter 5: Masquerade

  It was a long way down. As we descended through the building, away from the stuffy cocktail party taking place on the top floor, I could see visible changes in Katarina’s demeanor. Her eyes gleamed with excitement now, and she seemed almost giddy with anticipation. I didn’t know the cause of her sudden shift in mood, but I knew it was no use asking her to explain it. I’d just have to wait and see.

  When the elevator doors opened, curling plumes of thick white smoke rose to meet us. Are we still in the same building? I wondered. It seemed a world apart from the scene above. Katarina looked at me, her eyes wide and a huge grin on her face. Grabbing my hand, she pulled me out of the elevator before I even had a chance to take in our new surroundings. The walls were stone here, and the hazy smoked filled the corridor around us. I heard a muffled, thumping bassline coming from somewhere deep within the walls, though I couldn’t place the source of the sound. I stood there for a moment, not knowing which way to turn. Suddenly, the smoke cleared, and I realized with a start that there was a person standing at a concierge’s desk not five feet away from us.

  “Welcome, ladies,” said the man, who looked like someone you’d see in a Gucci ad. He was wearing a slim-fit tuxedo with a bright red carnation in his breast pocket, and even though his outfit you could tell that he had the body of a Roman statue. I looked up into his face, and realized he was wearing a white Venetian eye-mask, which obscured some of his features but allowed for the full effect of his piercing, light-colored eyes to come through.

  “Are you here for the party?” he asked.

  “We certainly are,” said Katarina, walking right up to him like she owned the place, and pulling me along with her. “We’re guests of Mr. Stevens.” I grinned sheepishly, letting her do all the talking.

  “Of course,” said the man, not bothering to consult the guestbook he had before him. He handed us two white roses, placing one in each of our hands. “Your coatroom will be to the left; this rose is your ticket. Have a wonderful evening.”

  As he finished speaking, the door behind him opened as if on cue. Glittering multi-colored lights leapt out of the room beyond, and the music spilled out into the entryway where we stood.

  “Thanks!” chirped Katarina cheerfully, and dashed through the door excitedly. It was all I could do to keep up with her.

  It seemed like we were at a dance club of some sort, but that was about all I could gather for now. Once past the door, we turned and ventured a few steps down the hallway, finding ourselves in a brightly-lit dressing room. The walls were covered in mirrors, with vanity lighting all around the perimeter of the room.

  But what immediately caught my eye was that on the tables before us, there was an enormous array of masks. Some were simple, like the one the concierge had been wearing; others pushed the limits of ornamentation, with crazily-colored decoration and sharp, abstract shapes. These weren’t the cheap plastic souvenir masks you’d find at a Mardi Gras parade. These were works of art: beautiful, every one of them, and each one exquisitely different from the rest. It was enough to take my breath away. I stepped slowly towards them, running my fingers over a few, and turned to look at Katarina for explanation.

  “Welcome to Masquerade,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

  I looked at her. “What?”

  “Oh come on, don’t tell me you haven’t heard of this place,” she said. I shook my head emphatically – of course not, I thought. The excited glint in her eyes was even stronger now. “I’m surprised Mr. Stevens hasn’
t mentioned it to you,” she said. “It’s one of his favorite places to come and… let off some steam every now and again.”

  “So it’s a dance club, then?” I asked, causing her to burst out in knowing laughter.

  “Something like that.” As she spoke, she picked up a mask and tried it on, striking a model’s pose and checking herself out in one of the mirrors lining the room. She looked incredible, and she knew it.

  “This is a masquerade party unlike anything you’ve ever been to,” she continued, peeling off her coat to reveal a risqué low-cut dress underneath. “Once you put the mask on, you can be anyone you choose to be. There are no rules here. Anything goes.”

  …Anything? I wondered. I looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. She returned my gaze, looking directly into my eyes and reading the curious look on my face.

  “And, yes,” she said, “that means exactly what you’re thinking.”

  Scandalous visions passed through my mind, of gorgeous men and ravishing women having passionate, anonymous encounters, acting out their fantasies with strangers. I’d heard of these places. You could do whatever you wanted, with whoever you wanted, and trade partners on a whim. I’d always been incredibly intrigued by the idea, but now that I had the opportunity to really act on my fantasies, I wasn’t so sure I could go through with it.

  “What will Mr. Stevens say?” I asked nervously. “I’m sure he wouldn’t like me messing around with these random men.” As I spoke, I saw a tall, masculine figure pass by outside our room. His abs were cut like an Olympic swimmer’s, and he was wearing a pair of tight-fitting boxer briefs, a tiny Venetian mask – and nothing else. Whoa, mama.

  Katarina giggled, watching my eyes follow the hunky figure even as I was expressing my hesitation. “Oh, lighten up, silly,” she said playfully. “Mr. Stevens knows exactly what goes on here. He’ll be down in a little while. Remember?” She stepped towards me as she spoke, placing a comforting hand on my wrist. “Look, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. But since we’re here, there’s no harm with a little innocent flirting – right?”

  “…Right,” I said finally. I wasn’t so sure, but I was interested in exploring my boundaries a little further. And if the two men we’d seen so far were any indication, there was a roomful of drop-dead gorgeous guys out there. I decided to give it a shot.

  I picked up a mask – it was understated, but elegant, with dark blue feathers encircling two large gem-studded eyelets. Katarina squealed with delight when I put it on. “You look stunning,” she said, placing her hands on my shoulders and turning me towards the mirror. “Take a look.”

  I had to admit, she was right. The blue feathers of the mask accented my evening gown perfectly, and I noticed again how the gown’s sheer fabric hugged my curves in all the right places, making me appear slimmer and more sensual all at once. Up above, in the stuffy confines of the cocktail party, the dress had seemed natural, even distinguished. But down here, in the erotically charged air of the masquerade club, I felt mysterious, sexy, and alluring.

  “And by the way,” said Katarina, “what I told you earlier wasn’t entirely true. There is one rule at this place.”

  “And what’s that?” I asked.

  She grinned. “Your mask never comes off.” Coyly, she ran a finger from my shoulder down to my forearm, in a gesture of half-joking flirtation. “Your shoes can come off. Your dress can come off. But your mask… that stays on. Got it?”

  I lowered my head, a little shy all of a sudden. For a split-second, I swear it felt like she was coming onto me. And when I looked up into her eyes through the mirror, she met them with a dangerous, naughty grin.

  “Come on, gorgeous,” she said. “Let’s go cause some trouble.”

  She grabbed my hand, and this time there was nothing I could say in protest before she pulled me out into the cavernous hall of the club. The walls seemed to stretch on forever in each direction, and when I looked up, I couldn’t see the ceiling above our heads.

  But I wasn’t focused on the décor for very long, for there were much more interesting things to look at. Everywhere I turned, I saw beautiful men and women, in various states of undress. Out on the dance floor, I saw couples grinding erotically against each other. I watched as one woman, her dress falling off her shoulders, grabbed the hands of two shirtless men and placed them on her body as they writhed and danced together. One man kissed her neck, and she wrapped her hand around his head as she closed her eyes in ecstasy. I couldn’t help but get a little turned on by it, and I wasn’t the only voyeur. Their sensuous dance had drawn a small crowd of observers, mostly couples or single men. The crowd stared intently at the display, and I could see some couples rubbing each other’s bodies as they watched what was happening before them.

  “Oh, my Lord,” I said to Katarina – but when I turned my head to face her, she had already left my side. I briefly panicked, scanning the crowd for her frantically. There she was, up at the bar. She was already talking to someone: a man, tall, black and broad-shouldered, whose face – of course – was hidden behind a silvery-white mask. They didn’t seem to know each other, because the man extended his hand to her for a handshake. But as I walked up to the bar, my mouth dropped open as I saw him lean in and whisper something into her ear, then pull back and kiss her lips. He offered his hand to her again, and she took it – and just like that, they turned away and left the bar together. She saw me watching as they passed me, and I saw her give me the briefest of winks behind her mask. They walked over to the wall of the club and disappeared behind a curtain, into a semi-private room, where I could only imagine what would happen next.

  I felt almost shell-shocked as I turned back to look at the gyrating mass of bodies all around me. Was I ready for this?

  I stepped up to the bar, glancing nervously from under my mask at the scene around me. It was alluring, sensual – again, I felt that sense of barely-contained erotic energy swirling in the air. I badly wanted to partake in all of this, but first I needed a drink to steel my nerves. Otherwise, I felt like I would never be able to shed my inhibitions, mask or no mask.

  The bartender noticed me instantly, and came over to take my order as soon as I arrived. He was wearing a mask, too, like everyone else in the place – and of course, like everyone else, he was gorgeous.

  “What can I get you, sweetheart?” he asked.

  “A Vodka soda, please,” I replied. He must have sensed my nervousness, because he flashed me a comforting smile as I spoke.

  “Coming right up.”

  As he turned away, I again looked around the room. The atmosphere was electric with possibility, and yet still I had reservations. Would Mr. Stevens really want me to be doing this, getting picked up by strangers and doing God-knows-what with them? Sure, Katarina had told me he was okay with it, but even though she’d been acting all buddy-buddy with me, I really didn’t know how much I could trust her. And the truth was, even if Mr. Stevens wanted me to do this, I wasn’t sure I would be able to find sexual feelings for other men. I thought back to our moments together on the rooftop – how he’d set me aflame with desire in a matter of seconds, just from a slight meaningful glance and the briefest of touches. Other men just didn’t hold that power over me. It was as simple as that. Sighing, I looked towards the entrance; I missed him, I realized. We had something special going on between us, and I knew no other man would be able to replace that.

  I turned my attention back to the bartender, and watched as he shook up my drink in a tall tumbler full of ice and strained it into a highball glass rimmed with gold. He topped it off a sliver of lemon peel for garnish. I had to laugh, because it was just about the fanciest vodka-soda I’d ever had. He grinned at me as he set the glass down in front of me on the bar.

  I took a sip, and widened my eyes in surprise as the drink touched my lips. There was some flavor in there that I wasn’t used to – something sweet, floral, and familiar, yet I couldn’t place it. But whatever it was, it was delicious.


  “Wow, that’s amazing!” I said. “What’s in that?”

  He laughed. “I thought you might like it. That’s called crème de violet – basically, essence of violet flower. I find it adds a little something to the vodka.”

  I took another sip and smiled at the delicate flavor. “It certainly does,” I replied. “What do I owe you?”

  Just then, his gaze traveled away from my eyes and darted over my shoulder, and he nodded at someone behind me. “Ah, the first drink’s on the house,” he said, smiling. “Enjoy.” And with that, he turned away before I could say another word.What was that all about? I wondered. As my eyes flitted around me, I felt a presence behind my seat.

  When I turned around, I was startled to see that there was a man standing behind me, wearing a mask, dress slacks and no shirt. He put a hand on my shoulder, casually, but it was a gesture full of meaning. He hadn’t said a word to me, but still I got a distinct, familiar feeling from him, just from the commanding way he carried himself. I looked him up and down again, more intently this time. His chiseled abs, hard chest and rod-straight posture – I knew that body, as intimately as one person can know another.