His Secret Desire (13 page)

Chapter Thirteen

I left the Strauss Engines building unable to look at anybody directly in the face. I was too wrapped up in the anger over the conversation with Henderson. When I boarded the elevator, I simply told the security guard: “Main floor,” and then said nothing more. When the elevator reached the bottom floor and I fled, I realized that it was more than just anger that was making me avert the gaze of any person in the building. I was feeling ashamed.

Did I really sleep my way to the top? It was true that Alex and I had had sex very quickly when we were alone. How long had we talked before he had me pushed over his desk, fucking me from behind while I cried out in pleasure? Even through my shame, I felt myself come alive between my legs when I thought of that memory. My shame deepened and I practically ran outside.

Mr. Booth was dutifully waiting outside for me. I jumped in the back of the car and told me to take me home. All I wanted at that moment was to be away from everything and everyone. I needed a hot shower in my own bathroom and a strong drink. I had to think. Was what Henderson had said true? Was I just a professional harlot?

The car ride seemed so much longer than any of the other times I left the office. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts. If I could only break down the events, maybe then I could make sense of just how I had come to be where I was. I was the assistant of Alexander Strauss, the CEO and namesake of Strauss Engines, a multi-billion dollar company. I now made astronomical money and I enjoyed luxuries like that of which I had never known before. Had it really all happened because I stood up to the man after calling him an arrogant prick?

“A lot of professional harlots work their way up the ladder from the temp offices,” Henderson’s voice rang out in my head.

I thought of all the things I could have said to Henderson that I couldn’t think to say at the time.

“You know, a lot of professional weasels slip their way up the top, riding the coattails of their brilliant friends,” I would have said.

But I hadn’t said it. I had simply sunk in my chair and accepted what he said without a fight. My anger welled up again at not giving Henderson my piece of mind. Yet it had caught me so off-guard in its harshness that I was left vulnerable and without a come-back. It was only minutes after I had come to recognize Henderson for a cunning man that he had proved me right without a shadow of a doubt.

Would Alexander Strauss entrust his mistress, his harlot, with the tasks that he had given me? I thought about it over and over again, trying to let an answer come to me without forcing it. No. It was too improbable that Alex would be so risky, especially since the climate of his company was so hostile, especially from the man that he believed was on his side. If Alex really thought of me as nothing more than a fun time, like those guys Emily enjoys so much, or his whore, like Henderson thinks of me as, then he wouldn’t be nearly as successful as he is. He would have ruined himself long ago.

No, Alex trusts very few people. He sent me to Beijing to negotiate one of the most crucial deals for the new water filters that were going to be the cornerstone of his entire company. I stopped my crazy train of thoughts and paused to consider the implications of this further. Alex had entrusted me with something major. And I had delivered. I had surprised him even. If I had started out as nothing more than a personal assistant that would also fulfill his sexual appetites, I knew that I had earned a new place in Alexander Strauss’s mind.

Henderson had misjudged me severely. I thought about this also. Maybe if he really thought of me as nothing more than some stupid harlot for Alex to enjoy sticking his dick into, I could use it to my advantage. No, to our advantage. Mine and Alex’s. I had meant it with all my heart when I told that weasel-faced son of a bitch that my loyalties lie with Alex.

We arrived at my building. Mr. Booth stepped out of the car and led me into my building.

“I’m going to come with you to your apartment and do a sweep of it, just to be sure. Are you ok with that?” Mr. Booth asked.

I felt touched that he asked my permission. “Yes, but only on one condition,” I replied.

“Ok, and that is?”

“You tell me your first name.”

“Gary. Gary Booth, ma’am,” he said happily.

I followed Gary into my building and up the stairs. Behind him, I could see that he was a bodybuilder of a man, a mountain of muscles. Looking at him closely I felt a certain sense of relief. It was nice to know I had a little protection. Although he was by no means little.

Gary stopped when he reached my door. “Oh, Miss Dubois,” he said sadly.

I pushed him softly aside and walked up to my door. Taped to the front of my door was a large, two foot by four foot photo of me. I was standing in my perfectly tailored suit, looking sharp and professional. I was standing next to Alex at the press conference. The photo had captured me looking over at him, I looked as if I was biting my lip. Or lost in a sexual fantasy, I thought. Yet it wasn’t me in the photo that grabbed the attention of anybody looking at the photo. No, the first thing you would notice would be the big red letters written across the entire photo.

WHORE

I grabbed the photo and tore it down. Tears of white anger were welling up in my eyes. How long had this been taped to my door for every one of my neighbors to see? Somehow, I found myself caring what they all thought. I turned over the large photo and on the back was a clear message.

GO BACK TO WHERE YOU COME FROM SLUT. WALK AWAY WHILE YOU CAN. OR ELSE.

Gary read the message and his voice turned graven. He gently moved me aside and entered my apartment. I prayed that there was no one in there, Gary looked primed for murder. Through the blistering rage at this public humiliation I felt a certain fondness for Gary, who seemed so outraged by this as I did. I decided then and there that I would keep this man as a bodyguard forever.

“It’s clear,” he said. He looked down at the photo and put his massive hand on my shoulder. I was about to tear up the photo when he stopped me. “We should keep that, maybe we can figure out who did it.”

Gary was being smart. My knee-jerk reaction had been to tear it up as if to destroy the shame of it all. Maybe I could destroy everything behind the photo, but Gary had stopped me in time.

“I’ll get a plastic bag, then we’re going to Alex’s, ok?”

“You the boss,” Gary said.

I walked in my apartment and looked around. I felt like I was in an alien land. Twice today I had been called a whore, in different ways. A flash of anger soared through me when I thought of how many times men had used that word to hurt women. It had hurt me too, and that made me even angrier. I was no whore.

When I looked around my apartment, I realized it was the apartment of a woman who doesn’t exist anymore. It was like it belonged to that scared freshman girl who was so terrified of embarrassing herself. Well, I thought. It’s time to leave this tomb.

I went into the kitchen and grabbed a large gallon plastic bag and slid the photograph carefully inside it, and then handed it to Gary. He took it silently. I thanked him.

I looked around again. The only things that I cared about at all in this foreign land were the photographs. I’d come back for them later. Then, I would use my new salary to get myself a brand-new expensive apartment. One with a fucking doorman.

“Let’s go, Gary,” I said.

We walked out and I got in the car. I wasn’t walking away from anything. And I was never going to go back to where I came from. I was moving forward. No one was going to tell me what to do.

Chapter Fourteen

I sat in the car, staring out at the city as it passed by me. I tried not to think about the photo of me with “whore” painted across it. I took out my cellphone and called Alex. He picked up after the third ring.

“Hello Samantha,” Alex said warmly.

“I need to see you, right away,” I said quickly.

A hint of alarm crept into his voice. “Has something happened? Are you in danger? Is Mr. Booth with you?”

If I hadn’t been so enwrapped in the drama of the photograph, I might have stopped to reflect on how Alex’s concern was sweet, but I was focused on the events of the day.

“Yes, Gary is with me. I’m not in any danger. Where are you?”

“I’ll be home in ten minutes,” Alex said. The calm had returned into his voice and he was once again the embodiment of collectedness.

“Alright Alex, we’ll be there shortly,” I said and hung up. “Gary, we’re heading to Mr. Strauss’s apartment building.”

“You got it boss,” Mr. Booth said.

I leaned back in my seat and tried to clear my mind. I tried to remember how to meditate from the one class I took on world religions during my sophomore year and all I could think about was counting my breaths. I relaxed after a few minutes and decided that once all this craziness was over, I was going to take an absurdly long bubble bath with a bottle of white wine. Hell, maybe two.

We arrived at Alex’s private garage and after Mr. Booth opened the door for me, I noticed that Alex was waiting by the elevator for me. Normally, he would be waiting in his actual apartment, but now he was standing by the opened elevator. I felt a wave of fondness for the man and if Mr. Booth had not been there, I might have jumped on him and let him take me right here on the concrete floor.

Mr. Booth walked over to me and handed me the plastic bag with the photo, a mild look of disgust on his face when he saw it again. He shrugged apologetically as if to apologize for the vileness of the photo when I looked up at him.

“Thanks Gary,” I said.

I walked up to Alex and he placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. His bright blue eyes seemed to be scanning deep into me and they must have found something because they relaxed and his gaze softened. He led me into the elevator and then nodded to Mr. Booth, who nodded right back.

I studied Alex in the elevator. He looked straight ahead as if in deep thought and I saw a wrinkle cut through his forehead like a scar as his eyes narrowed. The doors opened. Alex shook off the look of worry with his first step and we entered his apartment.

“Samantha, what happened?” Alex asked as we walked into the kitchen. He began to make some coffee and gave me a glass of water. I drank it down in one gulp, totally oblivious to how thirsty I had been.

“This happened,” I said. “Bastards.”

I tossed the plastic bag with the photo on the massive granite kitchen counter. It slid towards Alex, spinning. He stopped it with his hand and paused for a moment, looking at me before he looked down to the photo. When he lifted the photograph and studied it, his face did not change expressions. Alex turned over the photograph, still in the plastic, and read the message on the back.

With that done, he placed the photograph carefully on the table and turned around to pour two cups of coffee.

“Are you hungry?” Alex asked me casually.

“Dammit Alex, I’ll eat later. Did you read that photograph? Someone is threatening me!”

Alex studied me with a slightly amused look on his face. Then he shrugged and a tired look flashed over him before it dissipated and Alex was his normal composed self.

“I know,” he said. “I expected threats. I told you about the danger we’re getting into it and now that it’s truly begun, I expect this really is just the beginning.”

“Do you have any idea who would have done this?” I asked.

Alex fell silent for what seemed like a long time. After a few minutes passed I was about to ask him again when he broke the silence.

“I’ll have a team on it immediately. I doubt this photograph is going to give us any prints or any definitive clues, but it was a good call on keeping it,” Alex said. I thought of Gary stopping me from ripping the photograph.

“Well, Gary stopped me from destroying it out of anger. It was stuck on my front door Alex. I was embarrassed and mad. I wanted to tear it up and burn it into a thousand pieces.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Alex said, a sly smile on his face.

I walked over to Alex and put my hand on his shoulder and looked up into his face. “I’m not going anywhere Alex. I’m with you completely and there’s no way somebody is going to scare me off with some hurtful words and a threatening message. I believe in you.”

Alex leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips. His arms slipped around me and lifted me up effortlessly. I could feel his arms flexed around me and I opened my mouth for his tongue to slide gently in. We kissed passionately for a minute that seemed to pass by like a brief second and when he pushed back I tried to catch him again with my lips. He put me down and ran his hands through my hair, tugging on it gently as his hands passed through. I opened my eyes, unaware I had even closed them, and Alex was looking at me.

“So?” asked Alex.

“So what?” I asked playfully.

“Are you hungry or what?” He asked, smiling wide.

My stomach grumbled loudly, as if it realized that this was its queue. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate today and a wave of fatigue hit me.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty hungry.”

Alex nodded to me and turned around to face his kitchen. With speed worthy of the finest chef he was pulling down pots and pans and throwing them around the kitchen ferociously. I watched him with amazement as he danced around the kitchen effortlessly, tossing open cabinets and the refrigerator to lay out supplies. Flames danced on the stove and he tossed an assortment of vegetables and meat into the air, catching it with the pan flawlessly. He was completely silent, absorbed in the movements of cooking. I thought for a moment that Alex had been possessed by a cooking demon and I realized my mouth was hanging open.

“Who knew you could cook so well?! You really are a dreamboat, Mr. Alexander Strauss,” I teased.

He turned around and gave me a slick smile that looked like a boy’s smile who has just cherry-bombed a bathroom toilet. It was mischievous. Then he laughed and relaxed. I looked at his white shirt that was still perfectly clean and unmarked by his movements through the kitchen.