I get out of bed carefully. Thankfully, this time I am relatively steady on my feet and get to the kitchen without killing myself. Propping my arse up on a bar stool, I drink not one, but three pints of water. All are liberally spiked with oral rehydration tablets. I then take a couple of aspirin because I’m going to need all the help I can get.
Coffee is next my list, not because I want a cup – but because I can’t deal with a caffeine withdrawal headache on top of my current woes. Besides, coffee is still liquid. It’s just like water but black, right?
Twenty minutes later, I am still sitting in the same place, staring out to space with the same cup in my hand. I think the tablets have started to work, but I am reluctant to put them to the test. The next stop on my list of things to do is to grab a shower and inspect the damage Leader did yesterday, but I’m confident it can wait another ten minutes or so. Elizabeth isn’t going to fire me, she said so yesterday. Besides, now that she wants to sleep with me, she’ll be eating out of my hand in no time at all. That’s probably another good reason to make sure I go to the office today. I need to set the stage for that little gig. Get in the fucking shower, Adie. Are you a man or a mouse?
It takes me a full thirty minutes to get showered, but by that time I have discovered that my balls will live to see another day and that a doctor’s visit will not be necessary. I still can’t figure out why Leader didn’t kill me, but what I do know is that if I see her again – I will kill her. She is not getting the opportunity to do another number on me. No one gets to come near my balls twice and live to tell the tale. Well, not unless they’re sucking them, anyway.
Toweling off quickly, I don my suit and tie, and manage to eat a couple of slices of toast. The stuff tastes like sawdust in my mouth, but I need something to soak up the alcohol haze that is still surrounding me. Little flickers of Lois in bed beside me are starting to come back, and I need to be able to concentrate today. It’s maddening. For the first time in my life I am madly in love with a girl, and I cannot have her. I can’t even begin to tell you how much that sucks, but if my love life was a Dyson, it would be one of those top-of-the-range animal and pet hair varieties.
About to walk out of the door, I then remember I have no car. Leader ‘borrowed’ it. Fuck. There was no way I was driving to work - all I’d have to do is breathe over someone and a naked flame would set them alight, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my car. She had better return it in pristine condition or there will be big trouble. Ugh. This means I am going to have to phone the police and try to a get a rental in the meantime. As if I don’t have enough shit to deal with today.
I am not in a good mood when I finally get to the office. The tube was packed and a middle-aged lady who looked like a cross between Roseanne Barr and Queen Latifah took more than a passing shine to me. Her hand kept finding its way to my left thigh, and I tried my best not to notice by pointedly talking to the gentleman next to me. When it began stroking me up and down, though, I had to take action.
Removing the offending fingers very carefully, I said, “You do know I kill people for a living?” I then gave her my ‘I am deadly serious stare.’ She thought it was hilarious. The damn woman was still laughing when I got off at the next stop. I bet the gentleman next to me wasn’t, though.
Anyway, by the time I walk into the office, my blood pressure is already in the dangerous range and by the sniggers I am hearing all around me, it is not about to improve anytime soon. By now, everyone has probably heard about my disastrous date with Sandra, so that’s sure to fire the gossip rumors. If my reputation were to be maintained, we should have entered the office together this morning, looking rather disheveled and sleep deprived. Unfortunately, I’m the only one looking like that. Sandra is already at her desk and looks particularly well-rested. It appears sex with her lady friend isn’t that amazing, else she wouldn’t look quite so perky right now. I wonder if she’s told the rest of the office she’s a lesbian? If she has, that won’t make me look so bad. I may even get a few sympathetic looks from some of the ladies. Then I wonder something else. What if she isn’t a lesbian? What if she just said that to get me off her back? Jesus Christ, I need to find this out. If she isn’t, my ego is going to take a hammering, and I’m not sure I can cope with that on top of the miserable Leader defeat. Still, she’s had her fun with me, and I’ll probably never see the woman ever again. That’s the beauty of this job. You rarely run into the same people twice. One day you’re in Paris, the next you’re in New York. Leader can’t be everywhere I go. The odds of my meeting her again in the next year are infinitesimal, especially when you consider the life expectancy of an assassin isn’t great to start with. With any luck, someone will kill her within the next couple of years and do all the hard work for me.
Heading straight for my desk, I waste no time getting to work. I want this paperwork filled and filed ASAP, so I can get back to the very important job of sleeping off the rest of this hangover. If I can get a couple more hours sleep in when I get home, I may be able to call up Leah and see if she’s free tonight. Leah works in the local café across from me. She has purple hair and a fringe that almost covers her eyes. She either wears black or leopard print, and everything is always skin-tight. Her eyes are covered in so much eye makeup she almost resembles a panda, but she has this great eighties rock chick look, and I’m slowly being suckered in. She’s been giving me these long lingering looks for days, so perhaps now is the time to take her up on them.
“Adrien. It’s about time you showed up.” Elizabeth waltzes in to my office, not stopping until she reaches my desk, then she peers down at me, her eyebrow arching seductively. Unsurprisingly, I am still royally hungover, so the last thing I need is for her to get anywhere near me. I can still smell the vodka fumes evaporating off me in waves.
“It’s my day off, Elizabeth, as well you know. I’m only here briefly to tie up a few loose ends, then I’ll be on my way again.” This is her cue to leave, but she doesn’t. “Is there something I can help you with?” I offer, when she’s still peering down at me several seconds later.
Her hands go down to rest upon my desk and she begins to tap her fingernails as she considers something. Oh no. This can’t be good. She’s wearing a plotting and scheming look, and that usually spells trouble.
“Will you come out for dinner with me this evening?” she then asks.
What? No fucking way. I’m chasing tail this evening. The kind of tail that won’t get me into trouble when I dump its ass.
“I’m afraid I’ve already made plans this evening,” I say, smiling up at her. “Maybe another time.” My face then stares at the paperwork in front of me and I try my best to concentrate on it, while Elizabeth maintains her ground. I already know she is not going to accept defeat that easily, but I’m really not in the mood to spar this afternoon. It doesn’t seem to matter what I want these days, though.
“Oh, I think you misunderstood me,” she says eventually. “That wasn’t a request.” Her voice is soft and melodic, but there is an undertone of steel beneath it. Here goes nothing.
“If it wasn’t a request, you shouldn’t have posed it as a question. If you want to order me to do something, you need to use a different turn of phrase. Personally, I’d go with, ‘Adrien, you will accompany me to dinner this evening.’ That way, there’s little room for confusion, Elizabeth.” I look up at her again now and I give her a tight smile. I am a little pissed, to say the least. Still, I’m not one to back away from a challenge.
“Don’t test my patience, Adrien. You will meet me at Septime at eight o’clock sharp. Make sure you wear something nice. Do we have a problem?” Her elegantly arched brow is giving me attitude again. She has no idea how much I want to spank the crap out of her backside, but if she carries on with this behavior, she will.
“Yes, I believe we have a problem, Elizabeth,” I say, finally staring her straight in the eye. “I do not look, ‘nice.’ I have never looked nice. If you’re aiming for ‘nice,’ you need
to ask George Clooney on a date. I try to aim higher. ‘Fucking fantastic,’ is a much better look as far as I’m concerned. Maybe you should try it someday.” I flick the silver pen I am holding around in my fingertips a few times, drawing her gaze away from my face for a minute. I need to think. The trouble is, my mind is not firing on all cylinders at the moment. It is still running on ethanol. This is just typical.
Elizabeth takes a step back and bats her lashes. She is completely unphased by my insult because a slow smile appears around her delicately glossed lips. Standing before me is a supremely confident woman who thinks she knows exactly how the world works. If she’s about to start fucking with me, she’s in for a shock on that score.
“Just be there on time or there won’t be anything left of your balls to salvage, darling.”
After that sentence, I rise to my feet. Deciding that I have taken enough shit for one week, I come around to the other side of the table and tower over her. Let’s see how she likes feeling small.
“It may have escaped your attention, Elizabeth, but I am not your slave. I work for you on my terms, and if I decide that I don’t like you anymore, I will work for someone else. While we’re at it, I do not take kindly to being ordered around, and if you think you can get anywhere near my balls without your ass ending up on the floor, be my guest.” My smile is predatory as I cross my arms over my chest. If Elizabeth wants to play, I am more than happy to take her on. She’ll lose, but she’ll discover that soon enough. Anyone and everyone that’s ever tangled with me has lost in some way. This is sad, but true.
“I love it when you get all high and mighty, Dumortier. It turns me on,” Elizabeth drawls, as her teeth roll over her bottom lip. It draws my gaze to them exactly as she intended it to.
“It turns me on when you walk out of the office for the evening, Elizabeth. Now if you have quite finished, I have work to do.” We stare each other down for a moment, neither of us willing to back away.
In the end, she breaks the silence. “You will be there tonight. I have something you want. Save your battles for the real enemy, Dumortier. Believe it or not, I am on your side.”
I snort. No one is on my side. I learnt that the hard way, a long time ago.
“It had better not be syphilis,” I remark frostily, as I move back towards my desk. I am itching to ask her what information she has, but I know she won’t tell me, so I don’t bother. Once I know, there would be little point in meeting her for dinner, would there?
Elizabeth doesn’t take offense. She’s been in this business too long. Instead, she does exactly what I expect. She parries back with another insult of her own.
“By the way, how did your date with Sandra go the other evening?”
There is no reason for her to ask this question. By now, the whole office knows exactly how my date went – badly. There’s no way I’m admitting that, though.
“Fine,” I lie. I even manage to add a smile.
“That’s not what I heard,” Elizabeth says with a mock frown, tapping her French manicured fingernail on the edge of her cheek. “I heard she ran screaming for the hills the moment the film ended. What did you do to her?”
What did I do? I didn’t get a chance to do anything. The rejection still smarts, oddly enough.
“Well, it turns out she isn’t into men. It went as well as it could, considering.” I throw my hands in the air in defeat.
Elizabeth finds this hilarious. In fact, she laughs so hard she almost doubles over in pain. Obviously, I am missing something, because I fail to see the humor in this situation.
When she can finally talk again, her eyes are filled with mirth. “And you fell for that line?” she asks, thoroughly amused.
This is when I suspect my week is about to get even worse than it is already.
“It’s a perfectly acceptable sexual inclination to have. In fact, in my next life, I wouldn’t mind being a lesbian,” I confide. I’m not lying, either.
“She’s slept with half of the office, Adrien. All the attractive specimens, anyway. How did you not know that? Are you slacking in your old age? I had a bet that she’d sleep with you. The odds were ten-to-one. You let me down big style, Dumortier. What happened? What did you say to her?”
Nothing. I wasn’t even in the same room as her for most of the date. I am pissed, though. This just might be my first rejection, and I find that it stings a little. If the damn woman had just let me have sex with her first, instead of wasting time watching that ridiculous movie, we wouldn’t be in this position. Now, I am going to have to make it my mission in life to seduce her, if I want to retain my honor. I might have to actually put some work in for a change. Oh, the shame of it all.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I say, smiling brightly.
“As a matter of fact, I would,” Elizabeth says, and her tapping finger moves towards her lips as she contemplates what could possibly have gone wrong.
“Maybe you’ll find out this evening,” I say, looking pointedly at my watch, “although if you keep me chatting here for much longer, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”
She takes the hint. The damn woman is still laughing to herself as she walks out of the door, though.
This is the last straw. Sandra has just signed her own death warrant. I hope she realizes what she has just unleashed upon herself. The wrath of a Dumortier is no small thing. That woman is going to get it all guns blazing.
Adie
When I get home, I manage to get in an hour’s nap before I have the world’s quickest shower and change. By this time, I am feeling almost human. I wouldn’t want to run any marathon’s today, but after another pint or two of water, I should be up to my old usual self.
I can’t decide whether meeting Elizabeth this evening is a good or bad idea. She’s made it very clear she wants to sleep with me, which might make things messy around these parts, but since when have I been frightened of messy? The devil in me wants to put that woman in her place, but that would probably be bad for our working relationship. It’s still tempting, though. Maybe I should start circulating my CV around, just in case.
Pulling my car keys down from the top of the bookshelf, I look at them in distaste. I’ve been given a tiny little BMW as a replacement for mine, while the police go look for it. A hatchback. I guess there would be nothing wrong with it if I had three kids, or was over sixty perhaps, but I am not. It lacks just about everything my normal car has, namely: style, grace, and power. My car does zero to sixty in around four seconds. This car does zero to thirty-five in about three days. I got overtaken by a cyclist when I nipped out for some milk. I kid you not, a cyclist. Yes, I might have been in inner London, but my usual car is too big for most cyclists to sneak past. In fact, most cyclists stop and stare at my car in awe so they don’t have time to think about overtaking me. Anyway, I’m not offering anyone a lift until my ride is returned to me, and if Leader has put one single mark upon its sleek exterior, I am going to skin her hide from top to bottom. (If I can get close enough to her). (Which has proved a problem in the past).
I arrive at Septime ten minutes late. As far as restaurants are concerned, this is on time. I know this because if I turn up ten minutes late, my booking doesn’t get cancelled. If I turn up half an hour late, I usually have to do some serious leg work to retrieve my reservation, unless I am greeted by a woman, of course.
When I sit down at my table, I note dryly that Elizabeth is nowhere to be seen. So, I have to arrive on time, but she can waltz in whenever she likes? I guess it’s one bonus of being the boss. I think I’d quite like to be the boss of something one day - something slim and cute, with flaming red hair and mirrored glasses.
Elizabeth turns up a few seconds later, and she is guided towards our table by a very efficient host. He likes her. I can tell. As if to confirm the matter, his eyes stray to her very shapely butt when he has completed his task. He admires it for rather longer than he should, but I’m not about to say a word. Besides, it isn’t anything I haven�
��t done before.
“Ah, so there you are. Have you been waiting long?” Elizabeth glides along the glossy wooden floor in her trademark black pumps, which make her legs look endless. The woman has fantastic legs. They’d look wonderful naked and tossed upside down on my X-frame.
“Ages,” I lie smoothly.
She grins. “That’s one thing you have going in your favor, Adrien. You lie like a pro.” Removing her cream suit jacket, she then settles herself comfortably inside our very cozy booth. She feels a little too close for my liking, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.
Tossing her a leather-bound menu, I decide to get straight to the point. “So why have you brought me here tonight, Elizabeth?” There’s no way she’ll tell me straight away, but I feel like playing hard to get.
My boss opens up her menu slowly and pretends to peruse the contents with the scrutiny of an antiques auctioneer. She’ll need to. I asked for the French versions, rather than the English ones. “Hmm?”
“Is that, hmm, I forget the question, or merely a delaying tactic?” I already know the answer to this.
She then looks up. “Is there an English version to this?” She points to the menu as if it’s an offensive weapon.
Deadly Retaliation: A Dark Bully Harem Romance (A Twisted, Dark and Deadly Romance Book 1) Page 5
