by Amy Marie
Mena read the sign. "Oh, that's a shame. It closed at dusk. Maybe we can come back sometime. I've never been here."
I rattled the lock. "Do you trust me?"
"Huh? It's closed. How can we—"
"Sometimes, you just have to take a risk. Do you trust me?"
At her nod, I looked around to make sure there was no one nearby, then reached inside my coat and pulled a thick pin out of the pocket. I jimmied it in the lock until I heard a small click.
"What, no magic?" she asked with a smirk.
Relieved to see she wasn't going to stop me, I grinned back. "Don't you know? Iron is immune to magic. So, I have to resort to the old-fashioned way."
I pushed the gate open and held out my hand, relieved when she accepted it. It wasn't easy to relock the gate with one hand, but I wasn't going to let go of hers. I'd done a few shows here, so I was familiar with the landscape. The moon created enough light to see the path the meandered through trees and flowerbeds. Being the beginning of spring, colorful buds and flowers were abundant. Even with the evening light muting the colors into softer shades, it was still easy to recognize it would soon be a rainbow of colors.
"I've never been here. I don't know why. It's beautiful, even at night."
"I bet I can show you a lot of places you've never been to. I've probably seen almost every corner of this city, including places you should never go to. But some places you should see aren't in the tour book. It’s cool to get to know the city you live in from a different perspective."
"I'd like that, Oliver Prince, but only if you’re the one showing me."
We paused beside a lake. Just like out of a movie, a moonbeam lit a path on the water like a spotlight. It was like a dream. I was afraid I'd wake up any minute. But then I felt her hands turn my face to hers, and she closed the distance. She pressed her lips to mine. I didn't need a second invitation. I wrapped my arms tight around her waist as I took over the kiss. I knew you're weren’t supposed to compare women, but I knew without a doubt that this kiss was different from any others. There was no rush to a finish line, no certainty of an outcome, just the here and now.
And it was everything.
Leaving one hand on her waist, I slid the other to the back of her head, pulling the band out of her hair so I could thread my fingers through its silky strands. Tugging slightly, I pulled her head to the side to take the kiss to a different angle, and when I felt her tongue reach out to mine, I groaned in the back of my throat. Not wanting to overwhelm her, I pull back, taking time to run my lips across her cheekbone and down her neck until I lifted my head enough that I could rest our foreheads together.
"You're so damned beautiful."
"Is this real?" she whispered.
I thrust my hips against hers. "Feels pretty real to me."
"You make me forget myself."
I gave her one more kiss. "Is that a bad thing?"
"No, I —"
"Hey! You're not supposed to be here." A flashlight flickered in our direction.
"Shit. Time to go. Come on." I grabbed her hand, and we took off running, a voice demanding we stop behind us. I wound us across a grassy area and around some flowerbeds. Obviously, the rent-a-cop they hired to patrol the park wasn't in good shape, and we outran him reasonably quickly. We reached the wrought iron fence. Putting my foot onto the one crossbar, I pulled myself to sit on the top.
I reached my hand out. "Come on. I’ve got you."
She put her foot on the post and stretched for my hand, grabbing hold of one of the bars for leverage. "I'm not tall enough!"
I stretched even further down. "Jump. I'll pull you up."
She looked doubtful, but when the guard's voice grew louder, she put everything she had into her bounce, and I pulled her safely to the top. Together, we jumped to the other side and took off running, hand in hand.
A block away, I slowed us down so we could catch our breath. Mena leaned against the brick wall and closed her eyes, breathing hard, while I faced the wall and braced my hands against it. I couldn't look at her. I was ashamed I'd lured her to break the rules. She must hate me. I almost got us caught, and while I don't think we'd have gotten into much trouble outside of a pesky fine, there was the potential for breaking and entering.
I heard her make some weird grunts and sniffles. Good job, Oli. You ruined a perfect day and an incredible moment and made her cry.
I shifted to take her into my arms. "Mena, I'm so sorry..."
"Oh. My. God. That was incredible! Did you see him try to run? I bet he hasn't done that since he had to run the mile lap in elementary school."
My mouth dropped. She was laughing!
She leaned against me. "You really know how to show a girl an exciting time, Oli."
"You're kidding, right?" I tipped her head up so I could see her face. Nope, no tears.
Her palm curled around my cheek. "I don't know what you might plan for an encore, but I hope you ask me out again."
I kissed her again, hard and long. After a passerby whistled and told us to get a room, I finally pulled back. "So, what are you doing tomorrow?" I winked at her.
Her smile faltered. “Tomorrow is my day with my dad. And the beginning of the week is packed for me.” Then she brightened. “What about lunch on Wednesday?”
“I’ll make it happen.”
“Perfect.” She dug into her little purse. She pressed a card into my hand with her name on it.
“What’s this?”
“My own kind of magic. It’s a pass to my office. Otherwise, they won’t let you up. Give it to the girl at the front desk, and she’ll make sure you get to my office.”
“Sounds powerful.”
“Oh, it is. Definitely meant to keep you under my spell.”
“No place I’d rather be.” And I sealed the deal with another kiss, just to be sure.
Chapter 8
Oli
"I'm here to see Mena Knight, please."
The receptionist behind the large desk in front of the elevators smiled pleasantly. "Do you have an appointment with her?"
"We’re supposed to meet for lunch. She said I should show you this card."
She looked it over and returned it to me. "Your name, please?"
“Oliver Prince."
"If you'll have a seat over there, Mr. Prince, I'll find someone who can help you."
"I don't need help; I just need directions to her office." I waved a small bouquet of flowers I’d picked up on my way.
"Yes, sir, I understand." She reminded me of a Barbie doll the way her smile never wavered. "If you'll please have a seat, I'll have someone come and escort you."
Frustrated, I sat. All this to see someone. This was some heavy-duty security. After a few minutes, a man dressed in a security uniform stood before me. "Mr. Prince, if you'll please follow me."
We took the elevator a couple of floors up, then he led me to a small room. It was how I envisioned someone's parlor in some fancy house—a small couch and a couple of chairs, all in a matching floral print. A coffee table was in the middle with a large silk flower arrangement centered on it. Table lamps next to the chairs cast a soft light to supplement the cloudy daylight from the single window.
After waiting a few minutes, I grew bored and picked up a binder with Faris Capital imprinted on the cover. I flipped through a couple of pages when a familiar face caught my attention. Jasmena Knight, Senior Vice President. There was an entire paragraph listing her education credentials with a bunch of initials that meant nothing to me but looked impressive, all the honors awarded to her, and positions she'd held. Holy fuck. She was listed immediately under the CEO, who had the same last name. No wonder they didn't let me up to see her.
"Impressive, isn't she?"
So caught up in this newest revelation, I hadn't heard the door open. A man in an expensive-looking suit stepped into the room and closed the door. "I understand you'd like to see Ms. Knight."
He sounded polite enough, indicating I should remain
sitting while he walked over to the side of the room. Turned out what I thought was a cabinet was a hidden mini refrigerator. He lifted a glass bottle. "Water?"
"Um, sure. Thanks." At least it would give me something to do with my hands. This situation had me on edge. It reminded me of the couple of times I'd spent being interviewed by the cops. They always started out playing nice and like they wanted to help you...just before they tightened the screws. "Where's Mena?"
He handed me the bottle and cleared his throat as he sat down. "I'm afraid Ms. Knight isn't available."
"We have a lunch date. I watched her put it on her calendar. She gave me—"
"A card? Does it look like this?" He reached inside his suit coat and pulled out an identical card, only with his name, Jeff Farr.
"Yeah. She told me if I showed it to someone at the desk, they would allow me up to see her."
"At least she told the truth about one thing."
"What do you mean?"
"Did you really think she liked you?"
"We've met a few times. We talked, laughed..."
Apparently, at my expense.
He made a quiet snort and shook his head. "What's your name?"
"Oliver."
"You really thought you had a shot with her, didn't you, Oliver?"
I stared across the room.
Jeff nodded as if he could empathize. "Ah, well. I understand. We all like pretty, shiny things. But a woman like her, well, I'm sure you understand she has an appearance to keep up. She was merely amusing herself with you. She's meant for those who can bring something to the table, like a merger for the family company or a substantial investment." He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "People like me and you? We're realists. We know there's only one way to get ahead. You can't escape what you were born into."
"What do you mean?"
He peered at me, his gaze so intense I almost thought it would burn me if not for my jacket. "I was once a lot like you. I had to fight for every scrap of food, resorting to whatever it took to survive—lying, cheating...stealing."
He held up his hand when I started to deny his words. "Don't bother. I've seen your record." He pushed a folder across the table. I didn't have to open it to know what kinds of papers were in there.
"Those are supposed to be sealed." My voice shook. I didn't know who I was dealing with here, but he had access to records he'd no business to. He seemed entirely nonplussed by my anger.
"With money and position comes power and resources, Oliver. Did you think we didn’t know who Mena was seeing?" He tipped his head toward the folder. "In and out of foster homes since you were eight. Labeled as trouble by your teachers, caught shoplifting, and a dropout. Am I right?"
I sat ramrod straight in the fancy chair. Jeff was right. But he also wasn't. I only did what I had to survive, never for the thrill of it. Believe me, freedom was all I'd had, and I didn't want it taken from me.
"I know what you're thinking, Oliver. You believed you'd turned your life around, and that it was all going to get better from here. But people like us must be realistic. It's never that easy."
"People like us?
He picked up the folder. "I was once like you. A petty thief. A 'street rat' they called me."
Looking at his obviously expensive clothes, I found it hard to believe.
He must have read my mind. "Your problem was that you thought too small. If you're not the best, if you're not the most powerful person in the room, then you're nothing. Mena knows that. That's why she's fighting her father to become the CEO of Faris Capital. And she knows that if you were seen here, looking like, well..." He waved a hand toward my worn jeans and leather jacket. There was no question it didn't fit in with all the suits I'd seen in my short time here.
I was tired of being judged based on where I'd come from. I had dreams, desires, and ambitions the same as anyone. I'd worked hard to rise above the shithole I'd been born into. I could have easily gone down the drug path, stolen more than what I needed to survive, or even worse. I'd witnessed the poor choices others around me had made. I hadn't wanted to be like them, hadn’t wanted Jack and Jilly to be like that either. It was why I’d made new choices. But clearly, I was stupid about the way the world worked. Outside of the fairy tales Jilly used to read to me, people like Mena—smart, beautiful, wealthy—didn't mix with people like me—a dropout, poor, and unimportant.
But the irony that there were people in her world who weren't any better than those I tried to separate myself from was evident.
And one of them was sitting across from me.
"Your trip isn't wasted, Oliver. You've stumbled across an opportunity. I can make you rich. Rich enough to be worthy of Jasmena. Rich enough you could move in her circles; the poor street rat out in plain sight. She'd be free to be with you then."
"Let me guess. It comes with a price. You're not the kind of man who does anything out of the kindness of his heart."
He chuckled, an amused sound that didn't match the darkness of his eyes that was more than just their color. They were like a black flame, enticing but dangerous. "As I said, people like me and you will do whatever it takes to get ahead."
"I'm not like you."
"Aren't you? Are you saying you wouldn't be willing to take on a job if it gets you the kind of money that allows you a better, bigger home? That allows you to make the kind of charitable contributions that Jasmena is looking for? How is this any different than the kind of decisions you've made in the past? It's all for your betterment, right?" He leaned toward me as if moving in for the kill. "You're nothing to her now, Oliver. But you could be."
"What would I have to do?"
Victory lit up his face, but my soul shriveled. Still, wasn't this what it was all about, using the resources we have?
"There's a man I want you to find. His name is Gene. He owns a club called The Cave. He has something that could ruin this company, and I need you to help me get it back.”
"Never heard of him or his club."
"Of course not. No one knows about it unless you're invited to join."
"Then how do you know about it?"
"I'm a member."
"Aaand, you want me to join?"
"You got a spare hundred grand for annual dues?"
I lurched to my feet. "Hundred grand? What kind of place is this?"
Jeff waved me to sit back down. "The kind where power is yielded. The kind where leaders are forged or ruined." He smirked at me. "Or, the kind where the poor man can become rich."
Another defining moment.
Another choice to make.
"Tell me more."
Chapter 9
Oli
When I’d stood at the entrance just a few minutes earlier, I thought for sure Jeff had sent me to the wrong address where I was to meet him. There were no neon signs, no lines waiting to get in, nor could I hear any distant thump of a bass line. There were only numbered tiles matching the street number I’d been given embedded into the concrete above an ordinary wood door to let me know I was at the correct place. In fact, it looked like a row of upper-class townhomes.
When Jeff got there, he held up a plastic key card to an indentation inside the door frame. A click indicated the door unlocked. We walked down another hall to an old-fashioned style elevator which didn’t open until Jeff used his card again. It was the kind that was more like a cage, open to the view. And as we descended, the view was extraordinary.
It lived up to its name. The walls were carved out of bedrock, the foundation upon which much of New England had been built. There was more than one bar, each with a glass top that looked like it was floating. Several guests hovered there, while others sat in one of the many cozy sitting areas, some with couches and others with curved leather chairs surrounding a small table.
Glasses clinked as bartenders mixed and stirred patron’s drinks out of bottles with names I’d never heard of, but I’m sure they were top shelf given the decadence of everything else. Flavorful smoke from expensiv
e cigars mixed with the sweet fragrances of women to create a heavy, rich aroma in the air. Some groups played cards, poker, no doubt. But the smallest denomination that I saw marked on the chips was a hundred dollars…and there were thousands of those chips being used. I didn’t know if they were jewels or crystals winking from scattered locations along the rock ceiling, but it was impressive either way.
It was hard to draw my focus away from the opulence of the place, but I had a job to do. Jeff left me at the bar while he went to sit with a group at one of the tables. I sat at the bar nursing a beer with a name I’d never heard of, courtesy of a roll of twenties Jeff had given me. It was good. In another time and place, I’d want another, but that wasn’t what I was here for.
It wasn’t hard to spot the man Jeff had sent me to find. He was wearing a blue suit—and by blue, I mean electric blue. It had satin lapels over a white shirt with a gold bowtie. And yet, somehow, he was able to pull it off. Maybe it came from the kind of confidence someone has when they know no one could touch him or maybe just being rich enough to not give a fuck what anyone else thinks. Either way, he definitely gives off a vibe no one could miss.
Powerful. Masterful. Almost magical.
I’d guess someone like him might be more reserved. But like his clothing, he was the most boisterous person in the room, loud and vibrant, maybe fun. Yet, watching him mingle with his patrons, it was easy to see he was also the life of the party. It must be easy when you don’t have real-world problems, like if you’ll have enough money to cover rent, much less have any extra to keep the utilities turned on.
His voice easily carried above the music that beat out of hidden speakers. He was laughing as was everyone surrounding him. Yet somehow, surrounded by people he was friendly with, he still looked guarded. His eyes constantly watched elsewhere, as if he was looking for something…or someone. He moved about frequently as if not entirely comfortable in any one group.
