4
ENVY AND JEALOUSY
“Good
night Lei!” I say, as I palm a large tip to the valet’s hand to quickly put her
into her car.
“I’m
sure you’ll tell me about it soon enough.” She tries not to sound domineering
and fails by a lot.
“Nothing
to tell. Just business,” I say and turn around, motioning Dre with my head. We
make the short distance from Copa to the Sayers Manor. The security at the
door, opens the velvet rope, and lets us in. Jude is waiting for me inside.
“How
many of them?” I ask without a preamble.
“The
two producers and their attorney, Mr. Reinhardt and his son, their attorney and
Mr. Reinhardt’s translator, your attorney Mr. Whitaker and Mr. Winthrop. A
total of nine people, sir. They’re all waiting at the private meeting room the
producers reserved. I already set up your laptop; the beverage of your choice
is going to be there right after you enter into the meeting room.”
Jude
leads the way with Dre bringing up the rear end of the group. I can easily
identify the meeting room by the Reinhardt’s personal security guarding the
door. Jude opens the door for me. The men are sitting around a carved wood
table. My laptop sits at one end of the table marking my seat, and Reinhardt is
on the other end with his son, his attorney, my attorney and Stephane next to
me. The adjacent side is occupied by the producers and their attorney. Miss
Adler stands behind Reinhardt and my assistant Jude stands behind me.
The
knock at the door mobilizes Jude to the door and he comes back with my drink.
Reinhardt doesn’t miss anything. Jude emails the electronic version of the
contract, with the parts I have earlier highlighted to review to the
participants. Miss Adler does her best not to watch me, but it’s difficult to
avoid when I sit directly in front of her.
When
it’s time to discuss the legal remedies of the contract explained by the
attorneys, the job of translating the legalities also falls onto Miss Adler. Alarick
Reinhardt I notice angles his chair to have a better view of Miss Adler. He
watches her like a hawk. I already dislike the fucker, I like him even less
now. I make a mental note to have a thorough background check on the bastard.
Is this the asshole who manhandled her? The way he looks at her and follows her
gaze back to me is menacing. His nostrils flare in barely concealed rage. I
have a big suspicion that this is the fucker from the yacht.
Haunted - Beyonce
Reinhardt
Sr. asks her something breaking Miss Adler’s gaze on me and she shakes her
head. Junior sneers at her under his breath, making her turn crimson. Senior gives
the son a forbidding glance but the exchange is not missed by anyone. No one
has any doubt that the Junior is going to be a bastard all through this
partnership. I look at Miss Adler but she lowers her gaze, unable to meet my
eyes.
“Is
there a problem Mr. Junior?” I ask.
“Nothing
other than incompetence,” he says glancing in Miss Adler’s direction.
“Whatever
they are, I’m sure we are capable of overlooking your shortcoming since it’s
your father we like to do business with.” I say dismissively. His response is a
smile oozing haughty derision. I give a slight node to Jude who excuses himself for a minute. I watch
him to walk along the table to Miss Adler.
I
can see by his demeanor that he is offering to help her in German. Reinhardt
repeats his question. Jude states it in English to Miss Adler and she poses the
question to the producers’ attorney. Jude walks back to my side of the table
and Reinhardt is now sporting an impressed look on his face. All Junior has on
his face is contempt. The rest of the meeting goes on without a hitch and the
contracts are signed, notarized and legally binding within three days. I have
also added a gag order clause for all the participants. I don’t like the world
knowing what I’m investing in until the project has been completed.
Once
the attorneys’ leave with their respective paperwork, it’s time for a
celebration for the new partnership on this movie project.
Reinhardt
comes close to me and extends his hand. Miss Adler is close behind. Junior
stays back and looks pissed. Maybe his daddy has to keep a tight leash on him
and told him to stay put. But he is eye fucking Miss Adler and by the looks of
it, she’s extremely uncomfortable. Break-up? Fight? Is this the fucker standing
in my way to Miss Adler? Removing hiss ass from my way would actually be a
great pleasure.
“I
can see why you are successful young man!” Senior says in French shaking my
hand.
“Please
enlighten me. I’d like to see myself through your eyes,” I respond.
He
starts speaking in German, and Miss Adler translates.
“You
know talent. Even your assistant is like an extension of you, another arm,
perhaps. The way he’s mastered his tasks, the way he’s in tune with you tells
me that he likes his position. People who love their positions are well
rewarded employees. If you want to judge a leader, you look no further than
their employees,” she translates his baritone voice.
“Exactly!”
“Alright,”
he says putting his hand on my shoulder as if we’ve been buddies for years. He
walks with me a few steps further away from the hearing distance of the group,
and away from Miss Adler. I’m actually looking forward to our partnership in
this venture for more reasons than money now.
“I
want my son, my only child Alarick to learn what I do in my business. We all
have our, uhm…” he says searching for an appropriate word, “quirks,” he
qualifies.
“He
had been influenced by some people when I was too busy expanding my business
throughout the world. Boys need leaders. I am a shrewd businessman but I was a
lacking father at best.” German men are known to be colder, firmer, and operate
in a no nonsense manner. They’re not known for their heart to heart talks in
business dealings anyway. If there was ever one, this could be a first. Or
maybe he’s learned a few things along the way about the American business world
and the no bullshit deals we generally seek. My eyes lock on the Junior as his
father speaks, concealing my profuse dislike of him with a placid face.
“Some
people filled the void and unfortunately his head with ideas I don’t agree
with,” he continues. Bastard probably didn’t work a day in his life and fucked
around with his daddy’s money. When there’s plenty of money to be had, there
are countless eager pussies to be fucked than one can count, even for the jerks
like him. I fucking hate the way he looks at Miss Adler as if he owns her. His
dad continues to mumble about the fucker.
“Now,
I’m trying to make up for that deficit. It will take time. I will try to rein
Alarick in.” Translation: I know my son is a grade A asshole and I
feel guilty for contribution to his state of assholery. How can I buy your
cooperation for putting up with him? The Senior knows his son’s
proclivities and I have a feeling that his are a lot darker than mine.
“I
observed him to be difficult to get along in business situations. This would
make our association less than pleasant and would hinder what could possibly be
a lucrative partnership.” Translation: He’s
an asshole. I don’t put up with that kind of shit.
“I
don’t disagree with your perspectives, observations and positioning.” He pauses
to see my reaction. I give nothing away. He continues.
“We
stand to make a great deal of money together and I want him to learn how my
business works. This venture may lead to
other opportunities in the European corridor for GTI. “ It was the statement I
was waiting for Reinhardt to make.
He
seeks a meaning, some sort of reaction to his confession. I say nothing in
response. My face remains reticent.
“Maybe
I can make you a counteroffer to sweeten this deal. There may be something I
can do for you in return for this
favor, your tolerance of my son…” he says opening the door to what I actually
want to do.
“My
tolerance has limits. He better not cross them.”
He
smiles.
“I
admire a man with principles. I can see why you have the reputation that you
do,” he remarks and extends his hand to shake mine to reach an agreement.
“I
do business with you only. But, remember, tolerance and respect have a delicate
balance. I don’t run a democracy in my company; I’m the ruler in this kingdom
and interference of other autocrats are viewed as acts of hostility.”
“Believe
it or not, I understand that well. I’m the same. And I agree with your terms.”
“If
you must have an American liaison, I prefer your linguist Miss Adler. I only
prefer to deal with Alarick when he’s with you. This is my final condition.” I
state flatly.
“Agreed,”
he says after thinking a minute.
Now
that I have Miss Adler in the equation, I feel a little better. Friedrich
Reinhardt thrusts his hand forward again, and this time I take it. I swear I
hear him murmur under his breath in English, ‘you should have been my son!’
“Now
it’s time to celebrate!” It’s Whitman. He’s a little too happy for my taste since
he too has been eye fucking Miss Adler for the last hour. The waiters bring
several bottles of chilled Salon Blanc de Blancs Le Mesnil-sur-Oger 1997 and
Perrier-Jouet Belle Epoque Rose Cuvee 2004.
Reinhardt
Sr. pulls Miss Adler to the side and explains the deal I have reached with him.
During their conversation, she steals surprised glances towards me. She nods at
him in agreement. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I sigh my
relief after I saw her acquiescence with her boss through her body language.
Miss
Adler I notice joins in the celebrations and Jude is striking up a conversation
with her. Lucky for him, he’s gay!
“Dre,
any preliminary findings?” I ask eyeing Miss Adler. His gaze follows mine. He
knows what I’m asking.
“The
initial background check is clean as a whistle. But you asked for a detailed
investigation. That will take about another five days, sir.”
“I
don’t have five days. The deal has gone through. Within three days the contract
will be valid and she will be Reinhardt’s liaison. I need to have it before the
end of the third day.”
“Yes,
sir,” he responds. “I’ll make it happen.” He takes his smart phone out, and
dials my company’s security services.
Sucker for Pain
“Thank
you Jude. You’ve been quite helpful. You can enjoy yourself at the club or go
home. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I state.
“Thank
you, sir. I will still be here if you still need me.”
Just
as Miss Adler is about to leave the meeting room to the dance hall with Jude, I
hold Miss Adler’s elbow.
“Miss
Adler, I need a moment of your time. Jude can wait for you outside,” I say as I
indicate for Jude to walk outside. She looks at him with bewildered eyes. He
smiles to comfort her and points towards the door to tell her where he’ll be
waiting. When did they become fast friends?
Heathens - Twenty One Pilots
I
hold her elbow with one hand, and put my hand on her bare back to move her to a
more private corner. She stares up at me with her intense azure gaze unlike the
furious one she had given me earlier in the day. There is awe in it this time.
I can feel her heart beating fast, ready to burst from her chest. My skin warms
as our connection burns me. She takes a step back, supporting herself with one
hand reaching the wall. I can’t comprehend this connection.
“Are
you alright?” I ask in a low guttural voice, unfamiliar even to myself. “It was
you on the yacht in Cannes that evening wasn’t it?”
Only
a whimper escapes her lips as if my touch sucks the air out of her lungs and
makes her weak. She nods her head, ‘yes’. This time, her eyes look fascinated
as opposed to the furious glare she had earlier. The excitement in her eyes
turns into shyness. Her face flushes. She tries to avert her gaze. When she
lowers her eyes, she immediately wraps her arms around her body. Just like she
did that night gazing into the sea. Then I understand why. Her nipples are hard
and pushing against her well fitted dress. She is not unaffected by my
presence. Since she removed her supporting arm from the wall, her step falters
for a moment. I catch her elbow again, lean down and whisper, my breath
caressing her face.
“Steady
Miss Adler.”
“Bold,
aren’t you Mr. Gibson?” she reciprocates lifting her gaze, trying to look
astonished, but her growing pupils deceive her. A smile plays around my lips.
“Oh,
I’m more than bold Miss Adler. Much… Much… More.” She clears her throat. She
waits for a few seconds before she can find her voice.
“How
can I help you…” her voice is passionate, hot enough to ignite a man’s ardor
and put him into the raging inferno of his libido.
“Sir?”
she adds trying to alter the pitch of her voice to no avail. In fact her
cadence is slightly huskier, hoarse as if I just rammed my cock into her at an
intoxicating pace, heart pounding rhythm, and she shouts my name… Sir… I love
that.
“Kayla,”
I murmur with her name a litany on my lips.
“Yes.”
Her answer is a whisper. Her gaze is finally lifted up, boldly scanning my
face, touching each contour, and then runs over my torso, over the curves of my
muscles. As it descends down she tries to avoid my bulge unsuccessfully. She
closes her eyes but inhales my scent which captivates her senses. I see by the sagging of her shoulders there
is a brief surrender. But then she
squares her shoulders to fight the lust that’s hitting her like a freight
train. This time she fists her hands digging her nails into her palms to break
her sensory overload.
“Don’t.
Fight. It.” I whisper, offering an invitation to take a bite from the apple. I
don’t have to explain it to her. She knows and I know. The pull, the attraction
between us is undeniable, irresistible and unavoidable.
“I
know your kind, Mr. Gibson.” The tiny voice is barely above a whisper. What
kind would that be? Junior’s kind? “I’m not a casual sex girl; some trick.” Her
gaze is back up to my face again. She feels my firmly restrained power
crackling between us.
“You
feel it, too.” The animal attraction between us is primal, intense, dominating,
yet sensual. I feel my throat dry and my stomach knot.
“Yes,
I can. But I can also hear the alarm bells ringing from here to eternity.”
“Maybe
it’s because I’m far better than what you have experienced before. How would
you know without trying?”
“Mr.
Gibson. I saw you earlier with a famous fashion designer who is gossiped to be
your girlfriend. Beautiful, wealthy, intelligent, and powerful. Like you.” She
murmurs. Now, who is searching about who? And she thinks of me as being
beautiful?
“I
don’t have a girlfriend.”
“I’m
sorry. I should have qualified. You have girlfriends.”
“No,
Miss Adler. I never have girlfriends. Too much of a hassle.”
“Thank
you Mr. Gibson. There you have your answer.” She’s refusing me! No one has ever
refused me. Never!
“Besides,
I don’t have time for a boyfriend, or even for casual dating. I have goals!”
She is cracking the whip.
“Then,
why would this be a bad thing, Kayla?” I ask, my tongue caressing her name.
“Neither
one of us wants to waste time in a relationship.”
“That
won’t work with you.” She is firm.
“Why
the hell not?”
“Because,
you’ll burn me into ashes,” she whispers. “This,” she says lifting her index
finger and touching the back of my hand. First the pad of her finger runs the
length of my hand as she examines it. Her touch is hot, potent, like a shot of
adrenaline, an aphrodisiac I’ve never tasted before. Then her nail. It’s
electric.
“It’s
just lust. I… I can’t… don’t do things like this.” She stutters.
“We
aren’t doing anything. Yet.” She runs her tongue over her lips, swallows hard.
And
more than ever, I want her. What the hell is she doing to me? She clasps her
hands, and looks down at them as if they hold the answer to her questions.
“No,
we aren’t,” she squares her shoulders. “My mistake. Anything else?” She sounds
hurt. Distant.
“What’s
wrong?”
“Nothing,
sir.” ‘Reality bites,’ she whispers
under her breath. She turns to walk away.
“Kayla!”
She looks back, her shimmering locks moving across her shoulders.
Am
I too dark for her? Bad for this innocent woman? Shouldn’t I think of someone
else’s well-being just this once? Surely she deserves it. She stops and I walk
to meet her.
“I
believe this belongs to you.” I extend
my hand and return the antique diamond
and ruby earring.
She blinks. Utterly surprised. “Thank you,”
she murmurs. “I thought this gift from my grandmother was lost to me forever, I
am extremely grateful for this and your kindness that evening.“ This time she
gives me a very grateful, innocent smile.
Fuck!
I think I should let this one go. She isn’t the fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em kind of woman. My gaze is unwaveringly
intense on her. I’m conflicted. I should let her go. Why the hell is it so hard
then?
“That’s
me… kind.”
“I’ll
see you at the next meeting.” The disappointment reflected in her eyes betray
the brittle smile she tries to wear.
“Of
course, sir.” She’s all business. Shit! I’ll sleep over it. Maybe if I have a
mind-blowing fuck, with some rope-play tonight with someone, I’ll get her off
of my mind.
She
walks away to meet Jude who is waiting outside.
“Dre!”
He
is next to me within three seconds.
“Sir?”
“Take
me to the Sailor’s Knot.” Let’s see if I
can get Miss Adler out of my head by the roots with several hours of rope play
and some intense fucking.
I
have a sinking feeling that she’s implanted there like a permanent fixture.
(Chapter with Christian and Ana is coming up on Sunday when I get back from Mexico for my birthday)
Thank you for the chapter!!!!!!! Have a lovely birthday! Gwen
ReplyDeleteI miss this so much!!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you and happy birthday♥
Oh Emine, thank you for this chapter.
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday.
Emine happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you for the chapter.
Thank you for this chapter it gives us more of an insight into Ronans personality.
ReplyDeleteSorry you have been so ill and with the the loss of a loved one it has been a tough time for you. But I sense you a strong person so straighten your shoulders, head up high, this too will pass.
Looking forward to your next Ana and Christian update.
Happy birthday!!
Feliz aniversário.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the chapter Emine. Enjoy your birthday!!🎂🎂🎂🎂
ReplyDelete