by Hannah Ford
We worked like that for a few hours, both of us in our own worlds. I caught up on my reading, began writing a paper, made plans to meet with a study group. Noah wrote briefs, made phone calls, set up meetings. His voice on the phone was always stern and impatient, and when he typed his keystrokes were loud and forceful.
The sounds faded into the background, and I lost myself in case studies and review sheets. I highlighted and made notes, letting myself become immersed in the security and normalness of my academics. The light moved lower in the sky as the time passed, the angle of the sun casting stripes of light onto the carpet.
At around five, there was a knock on the door.
I jumped.
“Relax, Charlotte,” Noah said, giving me an amused grin. “It’s just Shonda.”
Shonda? Who the hell was Shonda? I wanted to ask, but Noah was already crossing the room and opening the door.
A woman stood in the hallway. She looked to be in her early forties, with long white blonde hair and dark almond shapes eyes. Her face was powdered pale white, her eyebrows dark and pronounced, her lips lined in a shade of magenta I’d never seen outside of a fashion spread or a music video.
“Mr. Cutler,” she said, nodding. Her voice was deep, raspy, which contrasted with her delicate features and abundance of make-up.
“Hello, Shonda,” he said.
She peeked into the room and saw me sitting on the couch. “Is that her?”
“Yes, this is Charlotte,” he said. “She’ll meet you in the executive bathroom in five minutes.”
Shonda gave a curt nod and then turned and walked down the hallway, rolling a heavy black suitcase behind her.
“Who was that?” I asked, panicked.
“Shonda.”
“Yes, I know Shonda,” I said, not in the mood for Noah’s one-word answers and vague replies. “But who is she? What is she doing here? Why do I have to meet her in some executive bathroom?”
“Shonda is here to help you get ready for tonight.”
“Get ready for tonight?” I repeated, and frowned. “You mean like, she’s going to do my hair?”
“Among other things.” Noah returned to his desk and began going through a file folder, signaling that the conversation was over.
“Oh.” I stood up and twisted my hands in front of me, my leg jittering nervously.
“Yes, Charlotte?” Noah said. “What is it?”
“I just… you think I need a makeover?”
He looked up at me, then set his pen down and crossed the room to where I was standing by the couch. He took my chin in his hand, tilted it up so that I was forced to look him in the eye.
“No,” he said. “I do not think you need a makeover.”
“Because it seems like…just that you might not… you think I need a lot of work or something.”
“Charlotte,” he said softly, and my heart clenched at the way he said my name, so full of emotion and longing. I hungered for him to tell me he loved me again. He’d only said it that one time, and even though it had just been last night, I craved the reassurance. He was so hot and cold with me, I never knew where I stood, and I grasped at the moments he let me in like water in the dessert.
“You are gorgeous.” He kissed my forehead. “You are beautiful.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “You are sexy.” He kissed my jaw. The feel of his mouth on my skin sent a heady breathlessness sweeping through my body. “You do not need a makeover.”
“Then why is Shonda here?” I asked, averting my eyes before he could answer.
“Look at me when you talk.”
I forced my eyes back to his.
“She’s here because you said you wanted to make this as real as possible, is that correct? That you want to go to Force tonight with our best chance of finding out who it is that called you earlier?”
I nodded.
“Then you need to give yourself to me completely. You need to trust me. If you are serious about this, then we will go to Force tonight. But it will be on my terms, the way I want to do it. You will do the things I desire of you. Do you understand, Charlotte?”
“Yes.”
He kissed me then, soft and slow, teasing my bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away, leaving me dizzy with anticipation. “The executive bathroom is down the hall and around the corner, second door on the right. It has been reserved for you this afternoon, so please don’t worry about anyone interrupting.”
“Okay.”
He pushed my hair off my forehead. “Keep your phone on you at all times. You being out of my sight is anxiety-producing.”
I nodded again, then slipped out of Noah’s office and into the hallway.
I followed the directions he’d given me, walking quickly down the hall and around the corner. There were associates everywhere, the office buzzing with activity even at five o’clock. I marveled at all of them here, working their cases – they must have known Noah had been arrested for murder, and yet none of them seemed to have skipped a beat.
All of the women looked so shiny and put together – smart suits and posh-looking high heels, their hair perfectly styled and groomed. They had perfect smiles and tight bodies, and I wondered when they found the time to get their teeth whitened or fit in a session at the gym.
A part of me couldn’t help but wonder how Noah could be interested in me when he had these smart, accomplished, beautiful women surrounding him all the time.
I wondered if it was something I could ever get over, this disbelief that Noah could choose to be with me and not someone else, someone smarter, prettier, less ordinary. He was out-of-this-world gorgeous, rich, sexy, accomplished. He was larger than life in every way.
I pushed the intruding thoughts out of my head. Right now I had enough to worry about when it came to my relationship with Noah. If things ever became normal between us, if we ever weren’t caught up in this whirlwind of danger and court cases, if things ever settled down, I would be thankful that all I needed to worry about was him being out of my league.
I’d reached the executive bathroom. There was a sign on the door that said “RESERVED, DO NOT ENTER.”
I hesitated, not sure if I should knock. It felt weird to knock on a public bathroom door, but it also felt weird to just barge in.
But I couldn’t just stand out here in the hallway forever, so after a moment, I turned the knob and walked in.
The bathroom was sprawling and opulent, with sleek grey marble counters and lighted mirrors hanging over the basin sinks. Brushed nickel subway tiles imprinted with an abstract design lined the walls and a huge circular navy shag rug sat in the middle of the tile floor. The actual bathroom stalls were around a corner, along with a row of private showers for associates who stayed late or came in early.
Shonda was setting up a case of makeup on the counter.
“Sit,” she commanded, indicated a black leather swivel chair sitting in front of the row of sinks.
I sat and she turned me around until I was facing my reflection. The lights from above shone down on my skin, washing me out and doing me no favors.
She picked up a hunk of my lank hair and sighed, then got to work.
She shampooed and cut and styled, giving my hair body and long loose waves. She smoothed creams and gels over my face, along with primers and sparkly potions and bronzers. She used angled brushes that she dipped in little pots of color before smoothing them over my eyes and cheekbones.
When she was done, I looked beautiful. I still looked like me. I just looked sexier, more grown-up, more...sultry.
“Wow,” I said, reaching up and touching my hair experimentally. “I look amazing.” I blushed as soon as the words were out of my mouth. I didn’t want Shonda to think I was arrogant.
“Mmm hmm,” she said, sounding bored.
I wondered how many women she’d been called here to do this to, wondered how many times Noah had asked her to take care of someone he was taking to Force. Had she known Dani? Had she done this to Noah’s fiancé, Nora?
“
You have to keep your hair conditioned,” Shonda said in her raspy voice, and handed me a bottle of expensive-looking product. “Use this.”
“Okay,” I said, accepting it. “Thank you.”
“Now,” she said, and pushed the chair back so that I was laying flat. “Now we’ll do the wax.”
“The what?”
“The wax.” She handed me a paper gown. “Here. Put this on.”
I stared at it. There was no way Shonda would make me put on a flimsy paper gown if she were just going to wax my eyebrows. “Oh, no,” I said. “That’s not necessary.”
“Mr. Cutler’s instructions,” she said.
“Oh. Um…” I reached out and fingered the thin paper garment. The thought of spreading my legs in front of a stranger while she spread hot wax on me was not high on my list of fun things to do. I hesitated.
Shonda gave me a thin smile. “Trust me, honey, I’ve seen it all before.”
“Oh, I just... I’m not sure I need it.” I blushed saying the words. I was well groomed already.
“Mr. Cutler’s instructions were very clear.”
I bit my lip, considering.
Noah’s voice echoed through my mind.
The rest of this will be by my rules, Charlotte. I will have control of you in every way.
“Okay,” I said, sighing. “Just let me get changed.”
I slipped into one of the stalls against the back wall and quickly shed my jeans and sweater. The paper gown was incredibly skimpy, definitely not designed to cover anyone who had any semblance of an ass or boobs. I had a hard time making it cover my body, and I had to hold the back together with my hands. But when I got back to Shonda, she didn’t blink an eye.
Instead, she nodded at the chair, which had been pushed back even further so that it now looked almost like a massage table.
I lied down and Shonda got to work doing her thing. I gasped as the first strip of wax was pulled off, but after a second of intense burning, the pain began to fade.
I gripped my phone in my hand, ever mindful of the fact that Noah had told me to keep it with me at all times.
Sure enough, it buzzed with a text.
You okay?
Yes, I’m fine.
Good. I don’t like you being so far away from me.
I couldn’t help but smile at his words.
I miss you too, I wrote back.
A second later, he surprised me with another text, this one a series of emojis – a wrapped up heart followed by a balloon.
The elation I felt was enough to dull the pain of the waxing that was going on between my legs.
When Shonda was done, she got to work cleaning up.
“Thank you,” I said as I sat up. I felt slightly awkward. ‘Thank you’ seemed a strange thing to say to someone who had just seen you naked.
She met my eyes in the mirror over the sink.
I gave her a tentative smile.
“You’re going out with Mr. Cutler tonight?” she asked.
I nodded.
She nodded back. “You be careful,” she said. “You girls…” She trailed off as she pulled off the gloves she was wearing and tossed them in the garbage bin. I had the feeling her warning wasn’t specifically about Noah or me. She had a certain weariness in her voice, the same kind of weariness older people got when they were talking about a younger generation.
I wondered what she would think if she knew what we were planning tonight, if she knew that we were going out with the express purpose of hoping to find a killer, a thought that made Noah so anxious he felt the need to control my body and punish me physically and sexually.
“Have you worked for Noah for long?” I asked.
“Five years.”
“So right after Nora died?” I asked.
“Yes.” She continued her clean up. I wanted to ask her more about Nora, about what Noah had been like during that time, about what their relationship was like. But Shonda didn’t seem open to questions. “The clothes Mr. Cutler chose for you are hanging in the last bathroom stall,” she said shortly.
“Thank you.” I stood up, forgetting for a moment I was in just a paper gown. It was funny how quickly you could get used to something that just a moment ago you thought was so uncomfortable. “Um, Shonda, if you don’t mind me asking… I mean, how many women would you say you’ve, um, helped?”
She gave me a tiny little smile. “I can’t say.” She was folding up her makeup kit now, and she zipped it back up. I looked around the bathroom. It was immaculate, all traces of her and what we’d done here gone. She even tied up the garbage bag and slung it over her shoulder.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because I signed an NDA.”
“An NDA?”
“A non-disclosure agreement.”
“Oh. Okay.” I wasn’t sure what to make of this. It was kind of creepy, making someone you worked for sign a non-disclosure agreement, although I supposed when you were as much in the public eye as Noah was, it was a necessity. He couldn’t exactly have Shonda running around telling everyone about how she was waxing girls in Noah’s executive bathroom.
But still.
It was just another sign that I’d stepped into a different world, another reminder that Noah had a whole life before me, one that was filled with women and secrets and things I knew nothing about. Would he have a whole life after me, too? Would I be just another face in a line of girls he’d used for his pleasure before he got bored or scared or met someone else?
I pushed the thoughts out of my mind and turned to thank Shonda.
But she was already gone.
***
Ten minutes later, I stared at myself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the bathroom door.
You have got to be kidding me, Cutler.
There was no way I could wear this out in public. There was no way I could wear this anywhere. It made the dress Noah had given me for my first night at Force look like a burlap sack.
For tonight he’d chosen a stretchy red bodysuit made of sheer lace. It was cut high on my thighs, and it cinched in tight at the waist before tying in a criss-cross pattern over my tailbone. The back was cut so high on my ass that half of my cheeks were exposed, and the front of the bodysuit pushed my breasts up and out, causing them to spill over the cups.
The entire outfit was see-through except for a thin strip of solid red material over my nipples and between my legs. There were no stockings, no garters, nothing. My legs were left completely bare. For shoes, he’d chosen a pair of red high heels with a zipper up the back and an open toe.
The only good news was that there seemed to be a sort of cover-up that went with the outfit – a black jacket that nipped in at the waist and flared out at the hips, accentuating my curves. It hit just above my knee and was made of a luxurious material that felt delicious against my skin.
With the jacket on, I felt sexy and beautiful.
Without the jacket on, I felt exposed and vulnerable.
I stared at myself in the mirror, then typed a quick text to Noah.
How am I supposed to get to your office?
Walk.
In this outfit?
Put the damn jacket on and walk, Charlotte. And hurry. I’m going out of my mind without you and cannot be held responsible for my actions if you do not get here immediately.
I smiled, then pulled at the bottom of the jacket.
I supposed it wasn’t that bad, as long as I had the cover-up on.
I sort of looked like one of those celebrities who wore blazers with no shirt underneath. Of course, those women weighed 120 pounds and had no breasts to speak of.
You’re not here, Noah texted, accusing.
I pushed my shoulders back and summoned my courage, then walked out of the bathroom. I’d had a picture in my head of everyone turning to look at me as I walked down the hall, everyone pointing and whispering, judging and wondering who the hell I was, and how I could think it was okay to blatantly walk around a place of b
usiness in such a revealing outfit.
I passed opened office doors and two associates, neither one of whom even acknowledged my presence. Either they were too caught up in their own work, or they were used to seeing women dressed like I was trawling the halls of Cutler and Associates.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped inside Noah’s office and shut the door behind me.
He was standing at his desk in front of the windows, and when he saw me, his eyes raked slowly up my body, taking in my shoes, my legs, my hips, lingering on my breasts before meeting my eyes.
Desire burned bright in his gaze, and heat pooled in my belly.
“Come here, Charlotte,” he commanded.
I walked over to him slowly, until I was behind the desk with him. I blushed, suddenly self-conscious. I wanted more than anything to please him, to be enough for him, to look the way he imagined me to look when he picked out these things for me.
He reached down and undid the button that held my jacket together, and my breath caught in my throat, my heart stopping as he slid the soft material over my bare shoulders, tugging the sleeves off my arms gently until I was left in just the sheer red bodysuit.
“Turn around.”
I turned around, knowing my ass cheeks were exposed to him, knowing he was surveying my body. I flushed and turned back around quickly, but he wasn’t going to let me off that easily.
“Again,” he said gruffly. “Slower this time.”
I did as I was told, goose bumps breaking out on my arms even thought my skin felt flushed.
“God, you are so fucking sexy,” he said, brushing his thumb over my cheekbone. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of his touch. He skated his hand over the side of my body, down over my waist, my hips, my thighs. Then he took my hand and led me over to the corner.
“I have some work to finish before we go,” he said. “You will stay here until I’m ready.”
“Okay.” I swallowed, realizing he meant I would be standing in the corner. Is this how he was going to deal with me before we left for Force? By punishing me?
“Look at me.”
I met his gaze and he put his hand on my jaw, pulling my face gently to his but stopping right before he kissed me. Instead he moved his mouth to my collarbone, his lips grazing my skin before sliding down my body, his breath hot through the lace of my bodysuit.
