S.E.C.R.E.T.: An Erotic Novel (21 page)

“Cassie, I’m so excited for you, but we have to hurry. Undergarments first. Off with
them.”

Before I had a chance to react, Michelle shoved me behind a bamboo dressing screen,
and tossed a gossamer silk bra, thong and pale stay-up stockings over the top.

“I bet you thought birds and butterflies would be helping you,” she said, laughing.
I had no idea what she meant.

Once I had the garments on, Michelle gave me a bathrobe, then seated me in front of
the mirror. She gathered my long hair into a low chignon at the nape of my neck. Amani
painted my cheeks and lips light pink, then gave the rest of my face a natural glow
with a big brush. After adding a hint of mascara, we were done.

“Time for the dress,” Michelle said, carefully plucking the pink confection off the
hanger and ushering me behind the screen again.

All the while, Matilda kept coming and going from the room.

“How much longer?” she asked Amani.

How much longer for what?
I lifted the heavy dress over my shoulders and felt it slide easily down my body
and fall
perfectly around my hips. I stepped out to get help with the zipper, and when I caught
a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I was rendered speechless. The dress was beautiful,
a pale pink like the lining of a seashell. It cinched me so snugly at the waist, I
realized I actually had one. The sheen was the barest sateen, and the dress was strapless
and cut sweetheart-style across my chest, showing off my shoulders and arms. The skirt
flared out like a ballerina’s, with a soft crinoline underneath to keep its shape.

“You look … beautiful,” said Matilda.

“But how is this going to play out? People know me. My boss’s girlfriend is still
here. The whole city’s here!”

“Trust us, Cassie. It’ll all be fine,” Matilda said, glancing at her watch.

Admittedly, some of the other fantasies had taken me by surprise, especially Jesse,
but this was different. This was the first time I was around people I knew, in my
real life. It was exciting and dangerous, but it also filled me with anxiety. Michelle
gently removed a tiara, a delicate twist of silver and sparkle, from a small velvet
bag. She nested it across the top of my head, framing my tousled chignon.

Matilda and I looked at each other in the mirror.

“Stunning, my dear. But don’t forget these,” she said, handing me the sparkly white
pumps.

I slid my feet into them and took a few practice steps in my heels, feeling utterly
ridiculous and overjoyed at the same time. Yes, I could dance in these; in fact, I
suspected I would be doing just that after the auction, which by my
estimation should be over by now. I was glad to have missed that part.

“It’s time!” Matilda announced, taking me by the arm and tugging me across the foyer
towards the ballroom.

“What? Where are we going? The dance hasn’t started,” I protested.

But Matilda wasn’t listening. We were moving so quickly, I had to place a hand on
my tiara to keep it from falling off. We reached the ballroom and I entered behind
Matilda, making sure she was screening me from view. As I peeked around her shoulder,
I saw a line of beautiful women, each taking a seat onstage. Among them was an attractive
local news anchor, a model who looked like a young Naomi Campbell, an actress from
the same TV show as one of the men who had been auctioned, a pretty blond cellist
from the New Orleans symphony, two beautiful Italian sisters who owned one of the
top spas in town, a few “daughters of” … and Tracina, who was now more than a little
tipsy in her slightly off-kilter tutu.

“There’s one more empty stool,” Kay announced into the microphone, cupping her hand
over her eyebrows to scan the back of the room. “But maybe she left.”

Please make me invisible
, I prayed.
I can’t cross the room in this dress, to be auctioned off in that crowd. I’d make
a fool out of myself
.

“She hasn’t left!” Matilda yelled, pushing me forward.

“There she is!” Kay crooned. “It’s Miss Cassie Robichaud, one of our lovely volunteers.
Now, doesn’t she look enchanting!”

Matilda placed her hands on my shrunken shoulders. She must have been able to tell
I had died a little inside. She whispered in my ear, “Remember, Cassie, this is Step
Six:
Confidence
. You have it in you already. Find it. Now.”

With one last nudge, I was launched into the crowd, and I made my way slowly, eyes
heavy on me. I curved around the tables, my skirt brushing chair legs and calves.
As I crossed the empty dance floor and headed to the stage, the dress elicited some
oohs
and
aahs
. But the healthy wolf whistle from the balcony actually made me laugh a little. Had
it really been meant for me? When I passed Pierre’s table, I tried to avoid eye contact
with him. I climbed the stairs and passed Tracina, perched on her stool like an agitated
bird.

“You seem more and more interesting the longer I know you,” she hissed as I took my
seat.

“Let’s begin, shall we?” Kay started the bidding with the news anchor, who, after
a fierce back and forth, went for $7,500 to the general manager of one of the waterfront
casinos. The model, who’d made aggressive attempts to get Pierre’s attention, was
crestfallen when Mark “Sharky” Allen, the Gem and Jewel King with the cheesy late-night
commercials, battled it out to the tune of $16,000 to win a dance with her. The sisters
went as a package deal and two of the debutantes attracted five-figure bids. Tracina
kept primping and preening while she eyed Pierre at his table close to the stage.
But it was Carruthers Johnstone, the exceptionally tall, broad-shouldered district
attorney from Orleans Parish, who opened and closed bidding on Tracina for $15,000,
a
hell of a sum that caused the room to erupt in a round of applause.

I was never going to garner that kind of money. Tracina had those long legs and a
vivacious personality. She was funny and hip. She could work a room. She could stand
up for herself. Even dressed as a pixie she was sexy as all get out. I felt even more
humiliated as the event came close to an unceremonious end.

“We are still short of our goal, but we do have one more bachelorette up for auction.
Cassie works as a waitress at Café Rose, one of our esteemed sponsors. So I guess,
let’s open bidding at $500, shall we?”

Oh God, oh God, someone take pity on me and get this over with. I’ll actually pay
you back if you just give me one low bid and get me off this podium
, I thought. But when a man’s voice said, “I’ll start the bidding at $5,000,” I was
sure I had misheard. The spotlight was on me and I could hardly see the faces in the
crowd.

“Did you say $500, Mr. Castille?” Kay asked.

Mr. Castille? Did Pierre Castille just bid $500? For me?

“No. I said $5,000, Kay. I’d like to open the bidding at $5,000,” he said, stepping
towards the podium and into the spotlight where I could finally see him. His eyes
looked me over like I was a sweet confection he’d never tried before. I clasped my
hands in my lap, then crossed my legs, then uncrossed them.

“That’s … that’s very generous, Monsieur Castille. We open at $5,000. Anyone willing
to go higher?”

“$6,000,” said a voice in the back, a voice belonging to … Will.

He came back? Tracina shifted on her stool and pursed her glossy lips. What was Will
thinking? He didn’t have that kind of money!

“$7,000,” said Pierre, glancing over at Will. I felt sick to my stomach, then felt
amazing. Then sick again.

“$8,000,” Will choked.

Tracina shot me an angry look and threw the same one at Will, who was moving to the
front of the room to stand beside Pierre. What was Will
doing
? Kay was about to slap the gavel down to announce a victory to Will, when Pierre
announced, “I bid $50,000.” The crowd gasped in astonishment. “Does that get you to
your goal, Kay?”

Kay was dumbfounded. “Monsieur Castille, $50,000 gets us well
past
that. Any other takers?”

The look on Will’s face almost made me cry. He dropped his head and smiled the smile
of the defeated.

“And, sold!” Kay yelled, closing the bidding with a pound of her gavel against the
podium. “Let the dancing begin!”

The crowd immediately began to chatter and rise from their seats, making their way
to the empty space in front of the stage.

Tracina sprung off her stool and disappeared among the throng to find her bidder.
Pierre stood at the edge of the stage, a grin on his face, Will standing awkwardly
beside him.

“Good try, old friend,” Pierre said, clapping Will a little too hard on the back.
“I’ll be sure to stop by the Café now that I have a good reason to.”

“You do that,” he said. “Cassie, I hope you don’t … Oh forget it. I’m going home.”

Before I could say anything, Will disappeared in the crowd.

“You look magnificent, Miss Robichaud,” Pierre said. “Fit for a prince,” he added
as he took my hand and led me to the center of the dance floor, his bodyguards never
far behind.

I could sense the question in everyone’s minds as they watched us:
Who is this girl who has so captivated Pierre Castille?
And even though other couples were now joining the dance floor, it felt like Pierre
and I were the only two people in the room. He pulled me so close I could feel his
breath on my neck. When the band started and he began to move me around the floor,
I thought I would faint.

“Why me?” I asked. “You can have any girl you want.”

“Why you? You’ll understand why after you accept the Step,” he said, holding me even
tighter.

Pierre Castille is a S.E.C.R.E.T. participant?
“I … but … you?”

“Cassie, do you accept?”

It took me a few seconds to absorb the fact that this man was a participant. Who else
in this room was part of S.E.C.R.E.T., or knew about it? Kay? The D.A.? A debutante
or two? The room spun along with my mind until the band ended the song with a flourish.
Pierre released me and kissed my hand.

“Thank you for the dance, Miss Cassie Robichaud. Until we meet again.”

I wanted to scream,
Wait! I do accept the Step!
But did I? What about Will? Pierre bowed deeply, then left the room surrounded by
his security guards, stranding me alone on the dance floor. I looked around for Matilda,
Amani, anyone besides Tracina, but of course Tracina was the first to get to me.

“Aren’t you a little mystery,” she said, fist on the waistband of her wilted tutu.

“Where’s Will?” I asked, craning my neck to try to find him.

“Gone.”

Before I could say anything else, a security guard grabbed my elbow. “Miss Robichaud,
there’s an urgent call for you. Please come with me,” he said, to my and Tracina’s
astonishment.

The guard guided me out of the ballroom, across the marble lobby and into a waiting
limo, eyes on me the whole time. My head was spinning. What a night. The entire community
had seen me being picked, chosen, desired. It was all so heady and so lovely. But
to enjoy it fully, I had to push thoughts of Will out of my head.

In the limo, I found a chilled glass of champagne in the armrest. I took a sip and
sank back into the leather seat as the driver took us down a private ramp where a
cluster of security guards appeared. Before I could even blink, Pierre pushed through
them, secretly ducking into the limo with me. It was all so swiftly executed, it seemed
second nature to everyone except me.

“We’ll exit from the back, out the parking garage,” he instructed.

The driver nodded and then closed the window between the front and back of the limo.

“Hello,” Pierre said, facing me now, grinning and a little flushed. “That went well,
I think.”

“I … yes, it did,” I stammered, while playing with the folds of my dress. It truly
was the prettiest piece of clothing I’d ever worn, let alone seen.

“So. Do you accept the Step?”

I was still wrapping my mind around the fact that the Bayou Billionaire was a participant
in S.E.C.R.E.T. I flashed back to the opening night of Halo, the time I saw him chatting
with Kay Ladoucer in the lobby. I reddened slightly, remembering that distinguished
British man and the things he did with his hands. Was Pierre participating in a fantasy
that night too?

“Cassie, the rules say this is the last time I get to ask: do you accept the Step?”

I waited a beat, then nodded.

His kiss came at me so quickly, it took me several seconds to catch up. When I did,
I had no problem matching his ardor. He pulled me on top of him, kissing my clavicle,
my shoulders, my neck, his arms completely wrapped around me. Then through the limo
window, I caught the briefest glimpse of Tracina holding hands with the D.A. What?
No!

“Is that Carruthers Johnstone?” I asked Pierre, breathless.

Pierre turned just as the giant man scooped Tracina up and placed her on the trunk
of a car, kissing her deeply.

“Yes. Bit of a ladies’ man, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, poor Will,” I muttered.

“Cassie.” Pierre cupped my chin, making me stare directly into the greenest, most
mischievous eyes I’d ever seen. “I’m right here. We have to get you out of this dress.
Right now.”

I couldn’t, wouldn’t think about Will right now. Not while I was in the back of a
limo with one of the sexiest men in the city.

“What about the driver?”

“One-way glass. We can see him, but he can’t see us. No one can.”

With that, he reached around me and I felt the delicate zipper of my dress snake down
my back, the bodice peeling away from me, leaving me surrounded by pink crinoline
and sateen, a cupcake melting in his lap. He began to sort through the folds, grabbing
a lush handful of fabric and lifting the whole garment over my head. My tiara caught
in the folds, ripping my chignon loose, so by the time he got the dress fully off
and tossed it to the other side of the limo, I was a flushed mess, wearing only a
lacy strapless bra, a silk thong and my sparkling heels, my hair cascading down around
my bare shoulders.