Dark Alley: Part One: Episodes 1-4
Page 21
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Dark Alley:
ZERO
Dark Alley Ep. 0.5
D. S. Wrights
Zero
Jason let out a long deep sigh the moment he sank into the seat of his black limo and his driver shut the door. He was beat, he had a headache, but he was relieved.
After weeks and weeks of long hours of discussions and deliberations that had moved all his other important tasks to Sundays, the management board of his company had finally come to a unanimous decision regarding their last purchase. Finally, they could do what was necessary to incorporate it into their holding and start to save people’s jobs. Officially, it had been nothing but a normal purchase, unofficially, it was a takeover, a hostile one, which had been planned a year ahead, set into motion six months ago, and came into fruition last month. They had secretly purchased the majority of shares over the period of five months, which was why the media hadn’t caught wind of it yet, but as soon as the news got out, it was important to control the message. They couldn’t just fire half of company’s employees, and couldn’t break it up into pieces, either. At least not yet. Both actions were necessary, in order to fit in and save at least parts of the company, but it could shed a negative light on Grantham Gobal. Simply because they were a big worldwide holding.
Big players were easily branded as the bad guys, because they usually were the boot that crushed the tiny ones. But the economy was less like a school yard with its typical bullies. The closest comparison was wildlife. It was the survival of the fittest. Simple as that, it had nothing to do with pestering the ones that were weak or insecure.
“Heim (home)?” His German driver asked through the rolled down window that was meant to separate the driver from his passenger in the back seat, but they never used it.
The last six weeks his answer had been ‘yes’ most of the time, only once every seven days he told Henning, his driver, to bring him to Elm Street 8.5. Usually he went there more often, but when an entire company was at stake, he couldn’t switch his mind off.
“What was that club’s name again that I told you about last month?” Jason asked, avoiding speaking that name, like he always did.
“The Rabbit Hole?” Henning answered with an accent that was less thick then one might have expected.
“Ja (yes),” Jason nodded. “I think it’s time to check on my latest investment. I hope they have decent Scotch.”
“Alles klar (all right),” his driver responded with a nod and started the engine.
Henning was just as old as Jason. They had met in Bonn, Germany, about twenty years ago, while Jason was studying economics at the university. Simply put, Henning had saved Jason’s ass because he had been hitting on the wrong girl. The weekend after, they went on a trip to the legendary Nuerburg-Ring Racetrack. The rest was history. When Jason went back home, he took Henning with him, because he pretty much was the best driver on the planet and that had come in handy in the past twenty years.
They arrived at the club, which had become the place to go more or less overnight, just after a few minutes of driving in which Henning explained that he wouldn’t be able to be his wingman tonight, since his little daughter was sick.
Like every time his friend brought up his family, Jason was rather in awe and wondering how fast the years could pass by. After all, his younger godchild was already eight and the big one was hitting puberty hard.
“Kein Problem (no problem),” he told Henning and reached for the door handle, realizing that his German was staring to become rusty – hearing another language and actually speaking it were two different pair of shoes. “Ich kann mir ein Taxi rufen (I can call a taxicab).”
Henning turned around and shook his head: “Unsinn! Schick mir ne Nachricht, dann ich bin in zwanzig Minuten da! (Nonsense! Send me a message and I’ll be there in twenty minutes.)”
“Okay, danke (thanks),” Jason opened the door, got out and as usual, he didn’t really have to shut the door.
Somehow Henning knew just how to speed up enough that it did that on its own.
The queue was so long that it went around the corner of the block, but Jason knew that already. He did up the button of his jacket and stepped towards the security guard, who were letting no one inside. If you didn’t have a reservation, you waited for at least fifteen minutes, when you were lucky.
Jason didn’t even have to open his mouth. One of the men whispered into the bulky guy’s ear, who already had fixated on him and had gotten ready to blow him off. Instead, he opened the barrier and let him pass by.
“Good evening, Mr. Grantham,” the guy who had whispered, greeted him and he nodded in response.
The rest of his team, two men and one woman, welcomed him with “Sir,” and he also gave each of them a nod as he passed them by. Understandably, everyone was curious who he was; he had gotten used to that early on.
He left his jacket at the entrance, knowing that with wearing his blue long-sleeved tee and the darker pair of yeans he would fit in better. The entire board wore more comfortable clothes when they knew that they were spending hours locked away in their conference room, and didn’t have to be the face of Grantham Global.
Jason’s first stop would be his business partner’s office, behind the spot where the DJ was turning his digital tables. From how easy entering The Rabbit Hole had been, he figured that Leslie Jennings already had seen him on her surveilance monitors, and informed her entire staff via the coms in their ears. Because of that, he didn’t have to slow down his pace as he headed for the stairs leading up, as the muscle stepped aside. Jason walked past the VIP lounge, ignoring the curious looks and instead looked down to the tables beneath the mezzanine.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
Walking away from an overcrowded table of cocktail sipping women, with spunk in her step, was a woman wearing sneakers. He just knew it.
No woman with high heels could bounce like that. While most of the female specimens he found at clubs like these went there to be seen, women who were out to have fun were rare. Jason couldn’t help but watch her. Her long, dark hair was tied back in a high, slick ponytail, she wore dark, tight jeans and a low cut black blouse.
Beneath that flashed a dark chrome-colored top, drawing the attention to her beautifully full breasts. She wasn’t a skinny top-model and therefore just how he liked his women. As Jason saw her being served Scotch, he turned on his heels.
“Tell Leslie I’ll be there in a few,” he walked by the bouncer and entered the dance floor, in order to take the fastest route to the bar.
But as he was in the middle of the crowd, the woman was gone. He turned and walked into the direction of the table she had come from, just to see that she wasn’t there, either. Just then he decided to return to his original plan, someone bumped into him. Bringing his hand to the women’s hips to gently push her away from him, he realized that it was her.
As soon as he touched her she turned around to him, and her blue eyes looked at him in surprise. They had a hint of green in them. She seemed to have taken her eyeliner a tad too seriously but compared to the other women it was harmless. Smiling widely, she continued to dance, and the way she moved seemed to lure him in. He didn’t dance, especially not in overcrowded places but somehow Jason didn’t care this time. Not when this woman smiled at him, encouraging him to stay with her. The last time he had danced in a crowd and not watched it from a safe distance had been Henning’s and Melissa’s wedding and that was fifteen years ago. This woman was a sorceress, and he needed to have her.
Finally she left the dance floor and headed straight for the young bartender that couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as well.
He knew him. Leslie had hired him for the crew of the Dark Alley, too. Jason rummaged in his memory for the bartender’s name. As far as he remembered, his name was Brian and he in his early twenties.
Jason stepped to the bar as well, watching how Brian got a water ready for the object of his desire.
She turned, looking at him skeptically.
“Yeah,” she gave back, and turned away, obviously unimpressed, which amused him.
“Your water!” Brian shouted and she looked at him for a second and then decided to lean over the bar, lifting up her feet.
Jason had no idea if she presented her full buttocks to him on purpose or if she was innocently oblivious to her seducement skills. Quickly, he repositioned his hardening cock, when she lowered her feet a little, snatched the bottle of water and started sucking on the straw.
This woman was unbelievable, and his cock twitched as if it was agreeing with him. He needed to shut down his hard-on right now, or he would just confirm the impression this woman obviously had of him.
“Scotch, neat,” he ordered, not caring for the brand.
Jason had stepped behind the corner of the bar, so he could be certain that if this woman’s glance accidentally dropped she, and her watchful friend from the table she had left, wouldn’t see that he was rocking a boner. He felt like a freaking teenager.
Brian was quick and professional, placing the drink in front of him after just a few seconds.
“Here you go, Sir,” he added, making Jason realize that the bartender was absolutely aware of who he was.
Damn.
From the way she was behaving, he figured that she was checking him out from the corner of her eyes, so he had been lucky. Relaxing, he just sipped at the Scotch, not really tasting it, just watching how she continued to lean onto the bar, forming a beautiful s-form with her body. And then the woman brought her feet back to the ground, turned towards him and stared.
Did she want to make him uncomfortable? Or did a cat steal her tongue. He had no idea, so he simply stared back, watching her flush in silent victory.
“I would have offered,” he broke the silence, and failed at not smiling at her.
Her faltering was just a too cute thing to watch.
“That was a one-time thing, courtesy of my best friend,” she replied with a smile, that made his heart drop.
“The girl that constantly looks over at you?” He responded and turned around, to look at her friend, he just had noticed, waved quickly at her and laughed, moving her beautiful body around to face him again.
“Yeah,” she nodded once. “She’s having a baby. I thought that was worth a Scotch.”
He liked how easy going she appeared to him and not uptight as so many beautiful but brainless women usually were. Maybe it was the alcohol in her veins, but he didn’t care. Then, she suddenly seemed to realize something.
“Do you do this a lot?” she blurted out and her eyes widened slightly, as if she hadn’t meant to say that. “Blatantly staring at pretty women in a dark club?” She chose attack before retreat, which was utterly cute.
Jason couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He wanted to pull her stomach first on his lap and spank her. Back came his boner, full throttle.
Fuck.
“No,” he quickly answered and took a sip of his Scotch, silently cursing at the traitor in his pants and chose the same strategy as she had. “That’s what I usually do when women are lying under me, exhausted.”
The way she gaped at him was even cuter. Jason was sure that this woman wasn’t a girl, but it was just his way of teasing the female gender, who usually felt their life was over when they had passed the first twenty five years. But there was something seductively innocent about her.
And then, after a few seconds. this beautiful creature started laughing and her cheeks flushed once more. Her eyes were showing him what he wanted to see. She was thinking about it, lying underneath him and staring into his eyes while she was catching her breath, sated.
“Sir, you have a dirty mind,” she then chuckled and turned back to the counter, looking for the bartender.
“Guilty as charged,” he replied and put down his glass.
Jason had decided her fate, and that meant he had to leave her straight away, make her look after him, and feel the pang of rejection. Because that was the only way to make sure that she would consider his Dark Alley.
About The Author
D.S. Wrights was born and raised mostly in Germany.
She speaks English, German and Dutch fluently.
Her name is a pen name and she describes writing as her passion and calling. Two short stories were published during high school, one as a school project and one in a regional newsletter.
Later she worked at a publishing house where she earned insight into the work, process and production of publishing books.
In the last few years she has published several fan fictions to which the feedback was overwhelmingly positive.
Visit: www.dswrights.com
Twitter: @DSWrights
tumblr: www.dswrights.tumblr.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/dswrights
Goodreads: https://t.co/0AfMj3PaWa
Amazon: http://t.co/9klFxrsQOU