by Breena Wilde
I look down at my black heels. They are gorgeous—a strap gently hugs my ankle. The small buckle is silver and a small heart charm hangs from it. Soft black leather covers my toes.
“Well, that’s strange, because somehow I have them,” I say.
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s because Mr. Zane is such a good client.”
My eyebrows lift in question and I wonder what he’s implying. Surely he doesn’t know what I am or what I’m doing staying with Mr. Zane. Or maybe he does.
“He buys a lot of shoes from... whoever makes these,” I say, daring him to tell me what he really thinks of me and wondering how the fuck this guy would know where Mr. Zane shops. Zane doesn’t live in L.A., and he’s only been at the hotel for a week or so.
“Haven’t you heard of Ken Woo? His shoes are, like, every woman’s dream. Those you’re wearing will sell for almost a grand, and they’ll be sold out within days.” He stops and shifts his body. “And yeah, more than a few of Mr. Zane’s lady friends have left his hotel room with Ken Woo shoes.” An arrogant smirk sidles up his face and I want to smack it off.
Is this fucker trying to diss me? Does he think he can put me in my place?
The elevator opens and saves any further awkwardness. “Good evening, Miss.”
I don’t look back or respond. Fucking prick, I think and walk through the lobby to the front doors.
The night is cool, crisp, and not as muggy as usual. The sounds of the waves instantly calm me. I inhale a steadying breath.
Lincoln is waiting by a long black limousine. When he sees me, he smiles. “Good evening, Cadence. Tonight is lovely, isn’t it?”
I think my mouth falls open. “Why are you so chipper?” I ask as I step through the limo door and sit on a lush leather seat.
He bends down. The skin around his eyes crinkles from his large smile. “Make yourself a drink. We’ll arrive at the restaurant in about twenty minutes.” He stands and closes the door.
I lean back, wondering what’s going on. I’ve only ever seen Lincoln stoic, a walking cement wall.
The driver’s side door opens. Lincoln slides in and turns the engine over. He glances in the rear view mirror and I hold his gaze.
His laugh lines grow deeper. “When my boss is happy, I’m happy. And he’s been very happy the last few days.”
“I see.” I put some ice in a glass.
Lincoln puts the car in drive and I pour myself some of Zane’s expensive bourbon.
Chapter 4
Everything about the restaurant we pull up to says pretentious, from the oversized shiny banana plants to the overdressed doorman. The outside of the building has a Tuscan feel. Green shrubs line the dark mustard yellow exterior and purple pansies are planted in front of them. There’s a long line of people down the street, waiting for their turn to get in.
A man dressed in a black suit and white shirt opens the door and holds out a gloved hand.
I give Lincoln a quick glance. “Have fun, Cadence.”
“Sure,” I say, grasping the man’s extended hand and stepping out. The limo pulls away and I suddenly feel lonely, out of my element: a daisy in a sea of peonies.
I wonder if those waiting in line can see beneath the exterior I’ve created—the pretty clothes, the makeup and liquid silk—into the soul of the poor daughter of drug addict parents. They always told me I’d never amount to anything. I knew they wished I wasn’t around. Hell, most of the time they ignored me unless they wanted something.
The man at the door smiles and tips his hat. “Welcome.”
“Thanks,” I reply, trying not to let my fear show.
Inside is just as pretentious, but I have to admit it’s also beautiful, decorated in rich purple, gold, and green. The tables are covered in thick white linens. Paintings of Tuscan gardens hang on the walls, and five large chandeliers twinkle from the ceiling. The aroma is divine, a mixture of freshly baked bread and perfectly cooked meat.
A woman comes forward. “The name of your party?” she asks in a voice that’s too friendly.
I search the sea of tables hoping I’ll find Zane, but I don’t see him. “I’m meeting Mr. John Zane and his party,” I say, trying to sound confident but fearing I come off more like a frightened rabbit.
“Ah, you must be Cadence,” she says. Her expression changes immediately. She’s jealous.
Interesting, I think, and remember what Zane said earlier about how people would do anything to be in my position.
“Yes,” I eke out.
“Excellent, right this way.” She picks up a menu and leads me through a throng of people. Some stare. Most keep doing what their doing.
When I see Zane, his blond hair and dazzling smile, I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s changed his clothes and he looks freshly shaven. He’s wearing gray dress pants and a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone.
Definitely good looking, I think.
He seems to sense me and looks over. His eyes roam my body, drinking me in and I’m mesmerized by him. He’s alone too, which makes me feel immediately better.
When I get to the table, Zane stands and pulls out a chair next to him. “Hello, Cadence,” he whispers.
“Hi,” I respond, sitting.
Zane helps scoot in my chair.
Seated, the overly smiley girl sets my menu in front of me. “Would you like a drink?” she asks.
I most definitely would. The bourbon hasn’t done anything to soften the edges, loosen me up.
“The lady will have bourbon. Neat. I’ll have another as well.” As he speaks, one hand finds my knee and he gently squeezes.
“Terrific, Mr. Zane. I’ll bring them over personally.” She leaves.
Zane leans in. “Relax, little PFA. The clothes are more expensive, but most everyone in this room is fucking each other for money.”
I can’t help but smile.
His hand moves slowly up my thigh. “And it isn’t nearly as satisfying as when you and I fuck, I can promise you that.”
My body is already responding to him. When one of his fingers slides into my pussy, I gasp. Trying to cover it up, I pick up the menu.
“What is this meeting about?” I ask breathlessly as he slides a finger in and out. A rush of wetness covers his finger and he groans.
“I don’t even fucking care anymore. When you’re around all I want is to fuck you.” He slides another finger inside me and messages my clit with his thumb. “God, you’re ready. Always ready.” He slides in another, and I have to spread my legs a little to accommodate him.
“You want me to come all over your hand in the restaurant, don’t you?” I whisper, setting down the menu and putting my hand on his cock. He’s rock hard, and a jolt of lightning shoots through my belly. “How will you give me pleasure and pain?”
I feel his cock get even bigger against my hand, making my pussy ripple with pleasure. He likes to inflict sexual pain. He’s told me so, and he now knows I want him to.
Zane leans back and pulls out a square velvet box from his pocket. He sets it on the table and scoots it toward me. “Open it,” he says, his eyes hooded.
I pick it up. The material is soft. “What is it?” I ask, trying to prolong the surprise.
He chuckles. “There’s only one way to find out.”
“Okay.” I bring it closer to my body and open it. Inside is a string of pearls. “Are they real?” I ask, touching them carefully.
“Of course they are.” He turns and shifts his arm so all four of his fingers on his left hand are inside me. His thumb keeps up the massage on my clit and my breathing speeds up.
“Fuck, Zane. I’m going to come.” I discreetly tilt my hips into his hand, desperate to scream out. The orgasm racks my body and I shudder. His assault on my clit slows and then stops and he pulls out his fingers.
“I want you to wear the pearls around your neck and,” he points to what looks like an earring and continues, “that around your clit.”
I touch it. “I thought it was an earring
.” My face gets warm at the thought of the milky pearl rubbing against the tenderest part of me during dinner.
“It’ll be pleasure and pain. Hurry to the powder room. I’ve just seen Nigel, the director, come in.”
“Where is it?” I ask, standing. My legs are trembling. He closes the box, hands it to me, and points to the left.
“On the other side. Now be a good PFA and do what I say.”
Chapter 5
On my way back to the table, I nearly fall over. The pearl sits against my clit and presses with the perfect amount of pressure. It makes me think dirty thoughts about Zane’s dick in my mouth, in my pussy, and I can’t control them.
There’s a man sitting on the other side of my chair. I’m guessing he’s Nigel. He’s perusing the menu and saying something. Zane laughs.
“Hi,” I say softly, and sit. The movement sends a flash of painful pleasure through me. I take a deep breath and hold the edge of the table. Zane grabs my knee, a steadying force.
Nigel looks up. His plump cheeks jiggle.
“Nigel, this is the new assistant I was telling you about.”
Nigel sets down his menu and sticks out a fleshy hand. I take it.
“Very nice to meet you, Cadence.” He squeezes, massaging my wrist with his thumb. His eyes are on my chest instead of my face. Several long seconds later, he tears his dark eyes away and looks at Zane. “She’s exquisite. Why didn’t we use her for the love interest instead of Scarlett?”
It’s obvious Nigel means the words as a compliment, but Zane’s face darkens. I wonder if he’s thinking about John Cruze. He knows we fucked. He doesn’t know I have feelings for the actor, though. At least, I don’t think so.
I interject quickly. “I have no interest in acting.” I pull my hand away and place it in my lap. Zane gives my knee a slight squeeze.
At that moment, a beautiful blond woman makes her way over to the table. Her hair is just past her shoulders. It’s curled and resting softly against her bare skin. She’s in a scarlet red dress. It’s sleeveless and scalloped, and flashes tons of creamy cleavage. The end of the dress comes to just below her ass. Her bare legs are long and toned, and she has on red heels that match her dress.
She looks like a high priced hooker. I get the feeling every man and probably most of the women in the room would pay her asking price, however outlandish, to fuck her. She seems to know it, too. The way she walks, shakes her ass, flips her hair. Jessica would call her a whore’s whore.
Zane stands and Nigel follows.
She only has eyes for Zane, though. And when she smiles I get the feeling she’s seen a whole lot more of him. “Hello, John. It’s so good to see you again.” Her voice is breathy, soft. It’s a fuck me voice, and for some reason it grates on my nerves. Hell, everything about her says fuck me and I’m surprised there’s a tasteful clause in her contract. She gives me the impression she’d be up for anything, especially if John were to ask her.
My mind goes back to the Blue Room and how he said he brought guests in there to inflict pain. It makes me wonder if Scarlett has been in that room.
Zane leans in and kisses her cheek. “It’s great to see you too, Scarlett. You look perfect, as always,” he says, taking her hands in his. He leads her to his other side and helps her sit.
“Thanks, Johnny,” she purrs.
Zane’s smile widens. “Let me get you a drink. What’ll you have? Vodka?”
She rests her chin on her hands and bats her fake eyelashes. “You remembered.”
I think about puking. She’s really laying it on thick.
Zane lifts a hand and a server immediately comes over. “Are you ready to order, sir?”
“In a moment. First, can I get a vodka with a slice of lime for the lovely Scarlett?”
The young man blushes. “Of course.”
He disappears quickly.
Scarlett finally tears her lusty gaze from Zane, completely glosses over me, and finds Nigel. “Hello, Nige. How’s things?” She picks up Zane’s menu and scans it.
“Things are great, Scarlett. Have you changed your mind about the script?”
Her features immediately turn angry. She leans over the table. “If you’re so open to having your private parts exposed on the big screen, then why don’t you do the scenes?” She slaps the menu on the table and finally looks at me. “And who are you, honey? The girl they want to use during the scenes?”
I lean back at the force of her words and it sends a ripple of pleasure through my body. “N-No. I’m Mr. Zane’s assistant.”
Nigel’s eyes brighten. “That’s a great idea, though. Johnny boy, what d’ya think? If she does the scenes, then everyone is happy. And we both know she can handle it.”
I’m confused and I feel my brows furrow together. “I already explained I’m not an actress.”
Nigel waves my comment away.
The server sets a drink in front of Scarlett.
Zane’s face turns livid. “I think you should do the scenes, Scarlett. That’s what we’re paying you for. Besides, we’ll make sure you look gorgeous. It won’t be hard.” He winks and Scarlett’s face softens.
“Thanks, Johnny. But there’s no way I’m doing those scenes. Besides, isn’t John Cruze gay? I don’t want his gay man parts touching me.”
Chapter 6
I nearly choke on my drink. Zane gives me a hard look.
“It doesn’t matter if he’s gay or not. That’s why they call it acting,” Nigel says, crunching on a piece of ice from his empty glass. “Where’s the fucking waiter? I’m starved.”
Scarlett leans back and gives Nigel a contemptuous look. “No surprise there, ya fat fuck.”
Nigel sputters and Zane leans between them. “Calm down. We have to work together. We all agreed to keep this meeting civil.”
Nigel closes his gaping mouth, his face a dark shade of purple. “Fine.”
“Fine, but I’m not doing those scenes. Either make them fade to black—more romantic—or I’m out.”
Nigel throws his hands in the air. “Have you even read the script?”
Scarlett balks. “Or course I have.”
“Bullshit. I’m sure your agent just told you to do it, said it would spice up your career, make others in the industry take you seriously. Am I right?” As Nigel speaks his cheeks take on a life of their own, moving and swaying voraciously.
“Tons of actresses do it. Give me a body double for those scenes or I’m backing out. End of story.” She’s huffing.
I can’t help but wonder what the big deal is. It’s not like the actors are going to really fuck. It’s make believe.
“I’d be okay with that,” Nigel says, throwing his napkin on the table.
A waiter comes over. “Ready to order?” He seems nervous. I’m guessing some of the patrons have complained about our lively little bunch. I glance around the room. Everyone seems to be trying extra hard not to look our way.
“Yes, let’s order,” Zane says. “Scarlett, you first.” He rests his hand over hers. That seems to calm her down.
“Fine. I’ll have the steamed red snapper. Tell George it’s for me and he’ll cook it the way I like it.”
“Excellent,” the server says, taking a deep breath.
“And I’ll have another drink. That’s it,” Scarlett adds.
“For you, miss?” he asks.
I suddenly realize he’s talking to me and I realize I don’t have the foggiest idea what there is. I looked at the menu, but I didn’t really look. Every place must have some kind of steak. This place is fancy.
“I’ll have the steak, please,” I say.
“How would you like it cooked?” he asks.
I have no fucking idea. I haven’t ever had steak and I’m about to tell him so when Zane comes to my rescue.
“She’ll have the house soup and salad. She wants her steak medium rare. I’ll have the same and we’d like a bottle of your finest red wine.”
“Excellent choices, sir. And for you?” Th
e server turns to Nigel.
“Finally.” I’d like the apple bacon salad topped with the house dressing, an order of your artichoke dip with crusted French bread, then I’ll have the quail with a double order of garlic mashed potatoes.”
The server is still writing.
“Ya got all that?” Nigel asks.
“Yes, sir.”
“Great, and keep the drinks coming.” He hands his menu to the server and we all do the same.
“I’ll be back in a moment with the first course.”
When he’s gone, Scarlett sits back in her chair and crosses her arms. “Now that’s out of the way, I’m going to say this one more time.” She pauses for effect and looks from Nigel to Zane. “I will not do those sex scenes. Understand?”
Zane sighs. “Fine. We’ll work around it.”
Scarlett smiles. “I still think this girl should take my place. She’s got a kick ass body.”
I smile.
“Who are you, anyway?”
“Scarlett, this is Cadence, my new assistant,” Zane chimes in.
She holds out her hand. “Awww. I should’ve guessed.”
My hackles rise. I’m not even sure why. Zane was right. The girl is a total bitch.
I smile sweetly. “Why’s that, Scarlett?”
She seems surprised by my reaction and backs down. “Oh, no reason. You know, I’m sure you’re a fine assistant.”
I lean forward. “Actually, I don’t know. Mr. Zane and I are fairly new acquaintances. Is there something about me that reeks fine assistant?”
Zane squeezes my knee and smiles.
Scarlett eyes me knowingly. “Whatever, I’m sure you’re fucking him.”
Nigel busts up laughing.
I nearly knock my chair over. “You saying that’s all I’m good for?” I scoot forward and a jolt of pleasure racks my body. I do my best to ignore it. “Before you answer that, I’d think real hard about it. Make sure whatever you say won’t be misconstrued.” My chest is heaving in anger. We may be fucking. Whatever. This stupid bitch has no right to treat me like I’m less than her. The fact is I could probably out act her if given the opportunity. I’ve seen a couple of her movies. She isn’t that great.
