by R. R. Banks
I walked over and touched the bedding. It was soft and cool, but with the distinct crispness that came from dry cleaning. I gave the bed a cautious press and immediately regretted it as my hand left an impression in the middle of what had been a perfect expanse of taut comforter. I was trying to figure out a way to remove the dip and prevent Mason from having yet another reason for remembering me for all the wrong reasons when I heard a sharp rap on the door and then it opened. I turned to see a tall, skeletally thin woman step in, pulling a rack of garment bags behind her. She had perfectly styled white hair that hung below her shoulder blades and hands that spoke to many years of living, but bright blue eyes sparkled youthfully from her face and her smile seemed to hold more energy than I had felt in recent recollection.
“Hello,” she said, releasing the rack and coming over to shake my hand. “I’m Sylvie.”
“Ella,” I said, accepting her hand.
Sylvie smiled a little wider and went to close the door before turning back and looking at me, her eyes seeming to scrutinize every inch of me as they ran up and down my body. I had the compulsion to open my arms out to my sides and spin around, but I stayed still. I felt like she knew that I was wearing a stolen dress that cost more than my entire net worth even if you adjusted for inflation and gave me a raise for good behavior.
“So, what are you looking for this evening?”
My dignity?
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Better response.
“Mason called me and said that you need a dress for this evening. He said that there was some kind of mishap with the one that you have and that he needed me to come by as soon as possible with some of my samples so we could find something that’s right for you to borrow for the party.”
He called in a dress shop? Wait…did she just emphasize ‘borrow’? Is that a judgement on my character? Potentially a true one at this point, but still.
“I’m really not sure what I should wear,” I admitted, deciding to let her commentary on my current contraband couture slide.
Sylvie’s eyes sparkled like a little girl looking at a brand new doll.
“I can help you with that,” she said. “Let’s just start with this one and we’ll see what you think, then we can go from there.”
She reached for one of the garment bags and unzipped it before easing a hanger with a frothy pink dress out. She held it out to me. It was a touch too quincienera for my taste, but I was willing to go along with it. I removed the dress that I was wearing and laid it out across the foot of the bed, then let Sylvie help me step into the pink gown. As soon as I slipped my arms into the delicate straps I knew that it fit me perfectly. When I pointed that out to Sylvie, she got a knowing smile on her face and nodded.
“Mason described you to me and told me exactly what size and shape you were so that I would be able to choose the dresses that were most likely to fit you and complement your form.” She gave a short laugh as she turned me around to zip up the dress. “And he was right, as always. If there is one thing that you can rely on about Mason Dupree, it’s that he knows the female body well.”
The comment put me off slightly. I was at once intrigued by it, interested in what she could mean, and uncomfortable, knowing exactly what she meant and not wanting to think about it. I already knew Mason’s reputation. Anyone who had ever heard his name knew his reputation. He left women scattered in his wake like used gum wrappers, and it didn’t seem like too much of a leap to assume that the ones that were seen with him at events or photographed coming out of his hotels or apartments, or those who made enough noise after he dropped them after one or two dates that they couldn’t be ignored, were only the beginning of the actual number he brought home with him. Men with power and money like he had learned quickly to be discreet.
I wanted it to bother me that I had somehow become another one of those women, at least in terms of being his arm candy for the night, but it didn’t. Instead, I couldn’t stop thinking about the burning in his eyes when he looked at me and the heat that I felt between us even when we were just walking down the hallway beside one another. It felt like there was something more there, but I didn’t know what. For right then, I was satisfied that whatever it was, was enough to convince him not to make as much of a problem out of the frame…or the dress…that he could have, and to enjoy the chance to play dress up and have one night of living in a world that I would never inhabit.
The fourth dress that I tried on was perfect. The deep emerald shade was unexpected but beautiful, and the cut was more demure than the red one, but still made me feel feminine and desirable. The strapless gown had a sweetheart neckline that cut just deeply enough to show off a hint of cleavage and a mermaid skirt that skimmed against my body before pooling at my feet and spreading around me. Sylvie handed me delicate lingerie that would make the dress lay even better and a pair of shoes that were so spectacular I was willing to be barely able to walk. I thanked her as she left, dragging the rack of gowns along with her. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, gliding silky thigh highs up my leg, when the door opened again.
I looked up, expecting to see the bright-eyed woman coming back. Instead, I saw Mason.
Chapter Eleven
Mason
The image of Ella sitting on the bed, her hands smoothing up her leg as she drew the thigh high into place stopped me still in my tracks. I felt my mouth water and hoped that she couldn’t see my cock harden in my pants. I wanted to close the door and lay her down on the bed right then, but I knew that I couldn’t. There were already guests gathering in the living room and I knew that more would be coming any minute. I had to be there to greet them and do my duty by smiling and pretending to be having a wonderful time with all of them. In that moment I knew that I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on any of the conversations or even remember all of the names of the people who Aidan had invited. All night all I was going to be able to think about was Ella sitting there on the bed, plenty of delicious skin showing, but just enough concealed to give me something to explore and discover.
I need to get out of here now.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to check on you and make sure that you found a dress. Um.” I looked over my shoulder toward the sound of raucous laughter that had just swelled up from the living room. “Whenever you’re ready, just come on out. I’ll be in the living room.”
Ella nodded, and I noticed that the entrancing flush across her cheeks extended down to her chest, highlighting the swells of her breasts. I drew in a breath to bring myself under control and backed out of the room, closing the door behind me. I took a moment to put myself together and put a smile on my face, and then headed toward the living room and the growing group that was in there.
Aidan was standing in the middle of the room when I got there and the panicked look in his eyes told me that he had gotten overwhelmed. He looked at me and rushed across the room.
Good thing for him he’s a genius in publicity and organization because he’s shit at people-ing.
“Mason,” Aidan hissed. “Where have you been? They’ve been asking for you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, brushing a piece of lint from the sleeve of my jacket. “I had to tend to my date.”
“Your date?” he asked, still in the high-pitched hiss of a whisper. “What do you mean your date?”
“Certainly you are familiar with a date,” I said. “A person you are attracted to who you bring to an event or an activity so that you can spend time together?”
Aidan glared at me.
“I am familiar with the concept.”
News to me.
“Then why the surprise? I am hosting a party in my home this evening. It would seem to be expected that I would invite a date to accompany me.”
“I just hadn’t heard you mention that you were inviting a guest.”
“It was a fairly recent development.”
“Well, where is she?”
He looked behind me as though
he thought that I might be hiding her. His mouth opened like he was going to say something else, but I saw his eyes lock on something behind me and he stayed silent. I turned to see what he was looking at and saw Ella at the entrance to the room. She looked even more incredible than she had in the red dress, the green gown she had chosen was a perfect accentuation of her curvy body and lush, sultry beauty. I glanced back at Aidan just long enough to flash him a smile and then crossed the room toward Ella. I could hear guests whispering to each other as I went, questioning who this mysterious, gorgeous woman was, postulating which wealthy and powerful family she was from, and had to smile to myself.
She’s a potentially criminal event coordinator with a crazy sister and probably not a cent to her name. Yet I want her more than anything.
I reached out my hand toward Ella and she rested her fingers onto it. Guiding her hand toward my face, I kissed the back of it softly, then turned it and kissed the inside of her wrist where I smelled the faint hint of a lingering fragrance oil. Something musky with just enough sweetness flowing through it.
“You look spectacular,” I murmured to her and then guided her down the three steps and into the sunken living room.
“Thank you,” she said.
She looked around at the guests milling around the space. I could see uncertainty in her eyes and I drew her closer to my side, looping an arm around her waist so that my hand rested on her hip.
“Don’t be nervous,” I told her.
“People are looking at me,” she whispered back.
“Of course, they are,” I said. “You are the most desirable woman in the room right now. The women are furious that they didn’t spend more time getting themselves ready and the men want to know where I found you and if there are any extras around so that they can get their hands on one.”
Ella gave a short laugh and I felt her relax slightly against me. I guided her toward Aidan, figuring that he was an easy person to start with for introductions.
“Aidan,” I said, stopping in front of him. “This is Ella, my date for this evening.”
As I said it I realized that I didn’t even know her last name and a flicker of guilt went through me.
Well, this is bad form. Why didn’t I pay better attention to the name on the contact information for her sister? Suddenly I realized I did.
“Ella Cowen, this is Aidan Smith, my personal assistant.”
“Stanton,” Ella corrected.
Shit. Is she married? Did I invite someone’s wife to be my date?
Wouldn’t be the first time.
But this felt different.
“I’m sorry. Ella Stanton, this is Aidan Smith, my personal assistant. Aidan, this is Ella Stanton, my date for this evening.”
I realized that I had clarified that she was my date several times. It felt strange wanting to say it so many times, as if I just really wanted everyone around me to know that she was there with me. I was accustomed to having the sexiest and most beautiful women available on my arm anywhere I went, so accustomed to it that I could readily and without hesitation toss them away like I did my visitor and her bra that morning, but somehow this gave me a different feeling.
“Hello, Mason.”
A booming voice caused me to turn around and I saw Bankston walking toward me, his sour-faced girlfriend draped over his arm.
Should I tell her about the miraculous recovery of her dress?
“Hi, Bankston,” I said. “Mariah.”
She looked at me and her lips gave a barely perceptible lift that I suppose qualified as a smile.
“Who do we have here?” Bankston asked.
The way that he was looking at Ella I wondered if he had seen her when she came to the building to decorate my apartment.
I don’t give a fuck what he thinks.
“This is Ella Stanton,” I said. “I met her recently through a friend.”
Well, shit. Do I care?
I noticed Ella give me a bit of a sideways glare, but then she offered Bankston a wide smile and held out her hand to shake his.
“Hello,” she said.
“Ella, this is Bankston. He lives here at The Avalon and has been trying to outdo me at parties since the day I moved in. And this is his lovely girlfriend Mariah.”
Bankston smiled, and Mariah gave a small nod in Ella’s direction before I gave Ella a subtle turn, guiding her further into the room. I had learned over the years that one of the best ways to ensure the success of a party was to keep it moving. No matter how well I knew the guests, I spent no more than a few moments with them at a time. It helped to prevent the awkward silences and big fake laughs that were so grating about these events.
“You met me through a friend?” she asked quietly as we headed toward the player this party was supposed to honor.
“It’s not really a lie,” I said. “I met you through your sister, who I hired through a friend. Besides, nobody needs to know our business.”
Chapter Twelve
Ella
I thought about what Mason said for a few seconds.
He met me through a friend.
Does that bother me?
I realized that it didn’t. I didn’t really care what he told these people about me or how we met or why I was there that evening.
As long as he didn’t mention the frame.
It wasn’t like I was ever going to see any of them ever again. This was just one evening and then I could go right back to my distinctly other-class life. For all I cared, he could tell them that I was a circus performer who had entranced him with my acrobatic prowess and he decided to hire me as the evening’s entertainment, but I injured myself in a freak elevator mishap and wouldn’t be able to perform.
Damn. I need to stop watching TV with Edmond. Or I need to write women’s network movies.
I nodded.
“Alright,” I said. “There really isn’t any point in them knowing.”
He nodded and continued cycling through the party. It felt completely bizarre to be moving through these people. It was like I had stepped into a brochure for an ultra-exclusive resort that I wouldn’t even be allowed to drive past much less go to. All around me people wore the names that were thrown around during fashion week and dripped with jewelry. Makeup was immaculate, perfume expensive. It was a different world than I had ever experienced, and by the time that I had met what felt like the twentieth man with a pretentious name and woman with enough carats on her finger to make a cake, I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by it all.
Mason apparently noticed how I was feeling because he lightly led me toward one of the roaming waiters and set the nearly-empty glasses of champagne that we had held on his waiting tray.
“Would you like a tour of the apartment?” he asked. “I know you’ve seen some of it, but there are rooms that you didn’t get to while you were decorating.”
I looked up at him quizzically.
“I thought that you had to be out here with your guests.”
He gave a dismissive smile.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I just had to be seen by them. Now I have, so I can whisk you away.”
There was something in the way that he said that, that sent a little shiver through me and I gave into the pressure of his hand on my hip, guiding me away from the party. We walked up the steps from the living room and into the darkened hallway that led further into his apartment. As soon as we were away from the group, I felt the tension ease out of me. It was as if we were in a different world now, a world that I was starting to really want to explore.
We walked along the hallway for a few seconds before he gestured toward a door to one side. I rested my hand on the latch and pushed the door open. The room beyond was all heavy, dark silhouettes and when Mason hit the light switch beside the door stained glass lamps hanging from the ceiling illuminated, casting richly colored light throughout the space. It wasn’t enough to make the room look bright, but it allowed me to see the massive wing-backed chairs upholstered in green
leather and an antique pool table sitting in the center beneath a huge domed stained-glass lamp.
I walked in, looking around.
“Your man cave?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” Mason said, shaking his head. “That’s another room. But you can’t see that one.”
“Oh?” I asked. “Why not?”
“Because it’s a man cave,” he said as if that was all the explanation that I needed or that could possibly exist for the issue.
I nodded and approached the pool table. The balls were set up in the center of the table and I ran my hand across them. Their smooth surface and shape sent a shiver through me and I felt my stomach clench with the suggestive hint that that simple touch had put through my mind.
“Come on,” Mason said. “There’s more that I want to show you.”
I reluctantly left the room, letting my fingers glide over the pool balls one more time before he clicked off the lights and we continued down the hallway. He had shown me another guest room, his library, a weight room, his beer cave and wine room, and a clothing room that was bigger than my bedroom by the time that he led me to the back corner of the apartment and opened a door. I stepped through into a room with three walls made of glass. It seemed to be built so that it jutted out from the building by several feet and was comprised almost entirely of a wide, sparkling pool. The water went right up to the wall on the other side, making it look as though anyone inside would be swimming through the air above Fifth Avenue. The position of the room sitting out from the building would give it the effect of a balcony, allowing swimmers to look up and see the stars.
