Sebastian - Secrets (16 page)

“Oh you have no idea, Mrs. Dove,” he replies darkly. “Sure, I like to play rough and I like my women precisely where you are now – restrained and ready for me.” He has a cunning grin and an excited gleam in his eyes, he looks so wicked and for a moment I am fearful of what he may have in mind for me next but he kisses my lips and moves off, releasing me.

“Another time Elizabeth.”

“Sebastian… you’re so kinky.” It sounds such a puerile statement. He’s has roused my curiosity and I want to know more.  “I’ve been looking online and I’m kind of curious about all that Dom/sub stuff.”

“And it turns you on,” he states knowingly
.

“Actually, yes
it does.  I guess because Alan’s totally disinterested in sex and the least dominating man in the world.  It’s a contrast to my life,” I explain.  “It’s just that I have to be the boss in every element of my life, all my roles are leading roles; at home, at work…I actually find it very appealing to think that a man might take some of that control away from me, tell me what to do for once, not put up with my shit,” I laugh.

“Where have you been all my life, Elizabeth?” He kisses me again and tenderly strokes my hair. “I’m here for you now darling, you don’t have to be in charge any more, in fact I won’t allow you to be so around me - just so you understand that point.  I’d go further to say
, if you try and lead me, you’ll make me angry Elizabeth.” He looks sternly at me and I can sense that he means what he says.

  This man is used to dominating and asserting his will, and I pity those who try an
d belittle him – I think he’d make a cruel enemy.

“Have all the women in your life allowed you to dominate them?” I ask.

“They beg me to Elizabeth!” He has that sly look again - raised eyebrow, half grin.

“Is that why you like Scarlet
t working for you, because she’s subservient? Does the power that you have over her arouse you?” I’m treading on dangerous ground here, but it seems a good opportunity to push him on this as it bothers me so.

“Don’t confuse business with pleasure,” he rebukes.  “I’ve got the message, I know you find it bizarre that an attractive woman lives and works at my house but you show me a wealthy, unattached man who wouldn’t choose an attractive woman to work for him rather than a hag.  I don’t intend to justify my choice of employees to you again so the topic is now taboo.  Understood?”

“Ok, point taken” I concede.  “But you did admit that she was once more to you.”

“I felt sorry for her,” he says, as though that excuses his actions.  “It was a low point in my life and she was there – it was over before it began and she knows her place.  She values her job too much to play up.”

“Play up?  Sebastian, I’ve seen the way she looks at you … at us together.  Believe me, that woman is in love with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Change the subject.”

“Ok. What was Libby like?” I acquiesce, hoping this next question doesn’t also upset him.

“She was the most gentle, beautiful creature ever to walk the earth.  Beautiful but complex, she struggled, you know, with many things in life, not a strong pers
on.  Very highly strung she’d get anxious and at the end, paranoid.”

  “I
n the early days when we first met, she was vivacious and spirited.  I think not having children was a heavy cross to bear.  In the end, she was on all kinds of pills, seeing the best psychologists but she wasn’t rational.  Her paranoia grew and she began hallucinating.  She imagined all manner of things at Penmorrow, accusing me of various wrongdoings and then one day, she just… opted out.” 

He looks sad now, miles away as if he is reliving those last few painful months and days with his mentally sick wife in that old house. 

I regret asking him about her and try and lighten his mood. “C’mon, let’s have a shower together then I need to get back to work!” 

I jump off the bed, strip out of my clothes and run stark naked to the bathroom, giggling playfully and hoping he will rise to the bait and come after me.  He does not disappoint.

The drive back to my office is more re
laxed than our previous journey- my troubles have been temporarily put to the back of my mind.  I find myself wishing that Sebastian would take me back to Penmorrow with him.  The idea of running away is tempting, if it wasn’t for the children…

We kiss goodbye in the car, which is parked a hundred yards from my office, and we agree to text each other later tonight.  He blows me a kiss as I turn and walk back to work. 

I’m late for my three o’clock meeting.  What was I thinking?  It’s such a crucial meeting; there is so much riding on this.

As I rush into the office, shrugging out of my coat, I see the meeting room is already heaving with people talking and sipping coffee.  I dash into the ladies cloakroom to reapply my lipstick and dab a little powder over my still flushed cheeks and smooth down my hair, hoping that I don’t reek of sex.  Just in case, I spritz myself with perfume from my handbag.  Good to go, they will never guess what I have been up to, I smirk to myself.

“Hi Beth you’ve got a message from Alan to call him back please on his mobile, and Joe’s headmaster called – I said you’d call him back after the meeting.  There are three contracts to sign on your desk too please, all urgent… oh and Nicky wants to know if she can go ahead and order the new marketing brochures, if so she needs to know today or the deal ends and the price goes up.”  My secretary is so efficient but the strain builds as my workload and personal issues mount on my shoulders once again.

This meeting is important, since the recession hit in the UK so many firms are struggling to survive.  Ours has weathered the storm better than most, however new leads are at an all time low and that is why I had to submit an ambitious tender application for a substantial contract.  If we are successful it will mean our projected turnover will double, meaning long awaited growth for Evershaw Dove.  Now it seems likely that we will be the preferred bidder, panic has set in as Ruth and I struggle to raise the considerable financial resources required to meet our contractual obligations. 

Staffing is our main concern – we will need to increase our HR team, which of course means advertising, training, and possibly larger offices.  We will need to increase our administration support team by two full time members of staff.  All of this requires a significant injection of cash; money we don’t have. 

Alan and I have a colossal mortgage already with a second charge levied on the building by our commercial lender so
it’s not been possible to leverage any more money against the house.  Ruth lives with her mother in her mother’s house so, again, that’s not a cash source we can utilise.  It was therefore an enormous relief when our accountant suggested calling this meeting.  He has a network of investors he said, all eager to squirrel away their funds into our sector rather than seeing it exposed to the perils of hedge funds, shares and even high street banks, which are now largely owned by the British public.  The syndicate is a long established one, he assured us, with one or two ‘new boys’ who seem keen to shore up their liquid funds. 

If this meeting goes well, we will secure the funds needed to really grow and finally make some decent returns on this business, after years of hard work.  Now, more than ever, I am aware of the need for me to be independently solvent if and when Alan and I sell the house, I will be damned before I ask him for
money to support me. 

Smoothing down my black pencil skirt and straightening the hem of my matching suit jacket, I open the door with a false smile.  I schmooze a warm hello, a
nd try to catch the eye of each person in turn, as I begin to shake their hands, and introduce myself.

“Elizabeth Dove, how do you do,” I gush with my professional voice I have mastered over the years in business.  Shaking the next hand extended to meet my firm grip, then the next, “thank you so much for coming today.”

As I take the next hand in mine, the touch is familiar but before realisation dawns, it is the voice which fills my veins with ice. 

“Sebastian De Montfort, delighted to meet you Elizabeth…” I withdraw my hand sharply and, wide eyed, I stare at him in disbelief and then anger – pure guttural anger at his blatant intrusion into my working life. 

What the hell is he doing here?  Why did he not mention that he was invited to attend this meeting when I saw him… only half an hour ago?  Crap.

12

“Mrs. Dove…?” I snap back to the moment, to the room of faces all now looking at me expectantly.

“Gentlemen, th…thank you all for coming today.” I try to recover my composure and professionalism - this is too important to allow him to sabotage my agenda. 

“In front of you, you will find a presentation pack which includes our business growth plan and forecasts.  If I could ask you to please turn to page one, the Executive Summary…” Everyone shuffles the papers in front of them and locates the page as directed. 

“You will find a synopsis of the structure of our company, a statement on our readiness for market and USP, and a brief outline of our growth plans.”  The room falls silent as the investors study the document.  I lead them through the plan and include a power point presentation, which they digest.  When I have finished I open the floor to questions.

A portly man of later years and a ruddy complexion raises his hand, “Mrs. Dove…Elizabeth, if we are to invest the monies you require what share interest are you proposing to offer?”

None, I just want your money!
“That’s a very good question” I reply, “In terms of return on investment we feel that 6% annualised interest plus a 10% share holding is a very generous return, I should add that we would not be offering a Board position, there would be no voting rights attached to the deal.”

“Elizabeth…” Sebastian commands my attention.  He sits back, arms crossed and a wicked glint in his eyes – he is relishing my discomfort.  I stare at him with the coldest, steely glare I can muster. 

“With all due respect, you cannot expect investors to simply write a cheque for the level of funding you are seeking, and expect them to be happy with a return they would achieve from a high street bank with little or no risk exposure.  I personally would require a non executive Board position, in addition to 20% of your ordinary shareholding.”

Oh I just bet you would, you control freak.

I am furious with Sebastian for demeaning me in front of these men, and for sowing the seed in their fat little heads about wanting a slice of our company.  Well, it’s not up for negotiation – over my dead body!  This business has pretty much cost me my marriage, my social life, years of stress… if he thinks I am going to hand it on a plate then he is crazier than I gave him credit for. 

“Thank you Mister De Montfort” I say with more than a hint of bitterness.  “As I just indicated, the option of a Board position is not something we would consider at this time.
”  Averting my frosty gaze from him, my attention returns to the others in the room. 

“Please remember
gentlemen, that you would be receiving a very healthy profit share as well as an attractive interest rate on your investment – that is not something you would receive from your high street bank” that told him.  He looks impassive but raises an eyebrow at me, shakes his head and writes something down.

I answer questions from two
gentlemen and thankfully these are operational rather than financial queries. 

Drained,
I sit down again as Ruth stands to deliver a closing speech.  Looking at the faces of the men, I can’t read their expressions in order to guess whether or not they may bite the cherry. 

I don’t meet Sebastian’s gaze, instead I look
everywhere except at him; I’m simply too angry with him but I feel his eyes burning into me and it takes all my willpower to avert my eyes.  Ruth is thanking everyone for attending the meeting today, and for their interest in Evershaw Dove.  Soon I’m shaking hands with them all as they leave, most muttering that they will ‘be in touch’ and ‘very interesting proposal’ but no firm offers.

Sebastian is waiting behind the last gentleman, who is telling me he will give the matter his ‘earnest consideration’ and I turn to follow him through the door but I feel a firm grip on my arm forcing me back into the meeting room. 

Ruth has left the room and I see that she’s in deep conversation with our accountant so I am alone with him.  He shuts the door and leans against it, arms folded and an amused smirk plastered across his face.  I let him have it.

“You arrogant, conceited, son-of-a-bitch
!” I hiss. “What the hell do you think you are doing coming here like this, no bloody warning, making me look an idiot… it’s all a game to you isn’t it?”

I am on a roll and the venom spills forth.

“Oh it’s just fine to turn up here out of the blue, take me to a hotel and have your way with me, no mention of the real reason you are here which is to bleed my company dry.  Oh no, the sex was a nice little added bonus wasn’t it… a little extra for your trouble in driving up here…I… I’m lost for words.”

“Have you finished your litt
le rant Elizabeth?” The patronising twerp asks.  I cannot speak to him. I cannot find any more words to relay how angry I am.