The
Invitation
Published by
Samantha Hyde at Smashwords
Copyright 2015
Samantha Hyde
The
Interview.
Nancy sprang up
from the plastic seat when the door she had been nervously watching
opened.
“Miss Nancy
Cooper?” called out a beautiful blonde from the doorway.
“Yes,” Nancy
stammered.
“Please come
through, Mr Sharpe is ready to see you now.”
On shaking legs
Nancy made her way across the empty function room of the town hall.
Her heals echoed loudly in the barren room, making her feel
ridiculously self-conscious.
The woman
watched her impassively, her face as carefully composed as her
smooth updo and the sharp black business suit that showed off her
long, tanned legs. Nancy felt shabby and inadequate in comparison.
Maybe she shouldn’t have worn the black, ankle length skirt and
plain white shirt. OK, both items were fitted and clung to her
curves in all the right places but she still felt like a tramp
compared to this leggy blonde goddess. The woman just reminded her
how short she was, how boring her shoulder length brown hair was,
and how her curves were in danger of getting out of control and
sliding into ‘fat’ territory.
Once in the
small interview room, the woman immediately took a seat in the far
corner as if to be as unobtrusive as possible.
Jasper Sharpe
stood up to greet her and extended his hand across the basic, fold
up plastic table.
“Nancy Cooper,
I am delighted you could make it today. Please, take a seat,” he
said, gesturing to the plastic chair on the other side of the
table.
He sat down too
and nodded briefly towards the woman. “That’s my assistant, but
please, pay her no heed. It is solely I who will be conducting this
interview.”
Nancy glanced
over at the woman but she kept her head bowed and avoided eye
contact.
Could this
be any weirder,
Nancy thought. She was pretty close to walking
out of the little interview room and forgetting the whole thing had
ever happened.
But not close
enough to actually doing it. Even though her gut instinct was
screaming at her to get the hell away, his offer was ultimately too
intriguing. She had to know more before she made her final
decision.
She certainly
hadn’t expected him to be so handsome. And he was a lot younger
too. The combination made her even more nervous, if that was
possible.
“May I just
start off by saying how sorry I am about your Mother.”
Alarm bells
instantly went off in her head.
“How do you
know about my Mother? And what does that have to do with anything?
I’m sorry Mr Sharpe, but I’m finding all of this a little strange.
I would really appreciate it if you could tell me what this
mysterious invitation to some dinner party is all about. And how
and why did you choose me in the first place?”
“Please, call
me Jasper.”
“Then
Jasper,
I would really like an explanation.”
“As stated in
your written invitation, this an interview to see if I think you
will be a suitable guest for my little soiree. And of course, an
opportunity for you to decide if you wish to attend or not.”
“Fine. But what
is it exactly that you’re inviting me to attend?” She opened up her
shoulder bag and pulled out the invitation, unfolding it and laying
it flat on the table. “Your answer to my question is about as
obtuse as your invitation.”
She didn’t have
to read it to know what it said. She knew the strange words off by
heart:
Dear Nancy
Cooper,
The millionaire
Jasper Sharpe cordially invites you to attend an interview at the
town hall on Thursday at 10.30 a.m, with a view to winning the
opportunity to attend a Black Tie party which he will be
hosting.
The successful
applicants will be picked up on Friday night at 8 p.m. and
transported to Mr Sharpe’s home. The overall winner of the party
games will leave with one million pounds. Jasper Sharpe looks
forward to meeting you on Thursday.
“I am an
exceedingly rich man, Nancy, as I am sure you have gathered. And I
am an altruistic man, up to a point. Think of this little get
together as a fun game for me, at the end of which I give a huge
amount of money to the winner.”
And Nancy was
sorely tempted. Which was why she was here. She worked all the
hours she could and still she was in danger of falling behind with
the mortgage repayments. She felt sure that losing the home she
shared with her sick Mother would kill her Mother off
completely.
“But why?
What’s in this for you?”
“I told you,
it’s the thrill of the game. Just remember that I will only answer
your questions up to a certain point. I like to keep elements of my
party games shrouded in mystery, it’s the secrecy that makes
everything so much more exciting.”
“OK, I get that
you’re an eccentric millionaire and you’re looking for new and
interesting ways to part with your cash, but why me? I’m just a
boring old office worker and barmaid, how did you even find me?
Have you been stalking me? How did you even get my address to send
the invitation? I mean, I’ve never seen you before in my life.”
“No, but I’ve
seen you, pulling pints at The Hare and Hound. I thought you looked
like a perfect candidate and I did a little research into you.
Getting information is quite easy.”
Nancy had heard
enough. She stood up, scraping back the light plastic chair across
the laminate flooring.
“Thank you but
no thank you Mr Sharpe. I should never have come here today, I
don’t know what possessed me. I wish I could say it was a pleasure
to meet you.”
“Wait.”
Something in the tone of his voice gave her pause and she stopped
mid stride. “Don’t you want to help your Mother?”
“That’s none of
your business,” she said indignantly, spinning round to face him.
“All the money in the world won’t buy her a new heart. And what the
hell has my Mother got to do with you? You’re a creep and a stalker
and I don’t have to listen to this.”
Not only am I a
millionaire, I am a
powerful
millionaire. I have
connections. I could easily move a seventy year old woman to the
top of the heart transplant waiting list.”
As angry as she
was, his words resonated within her.
“Go on,” she
said against her better judgement.
“So please, sit
down, and as charming as it is, keep that temper of yours in check
so we can talk like grownups.”
She glared at
him for a moment, torn between stomping out and sitting back down.
Once again she was struck by how handsome he was. She guessed him
to be mid-thirties or so, a few years older than herself. He was
tall and it was easy to see that beneath the tailored suit he was
powerfully built. The arrogant half smile tugging at his full lips
irked her and she despised the languid but assessing, know-it-all
expression in his heavy lidded, half closed blue eyes. Eyes the
colour of a cold, bright winter sky, she duly noted.
But the most
striking thing about him was the colour of his skin. She would
expect a millionaire to be tanned thanks to countless exotic
holidays but he was as pale as a vampire. ‘Vampire’ was an apt
comparison in her mind; he seemed like a metaphorical blood sucker,
bleeding the collective wealth of society dry to line his own
pockets.
And behind the
charm and impeccable manners, coldness radiated from him as if he
was a beautiful ice sculpture made flesh.
“You’re
assessing me. Tell me, what do you see?”
“You don’t want
to know,” she said, sitting back down, blushing slightly that what
she was doing was so obvious. “How do I know you’re not a nut job?
How do I even know you’re a real millionaire?”
He just
laughed. “Like you haven’t googled me already.”
He was right,
of course. He certainly looked like the multi-millionaire and
playboy she had googled on the net.
“Can you really
help my Mother?”
“Yes. I can get
her a new heart within twenty four hours. If you play my game of
course. And if you win.”
Nancy thought
of her poor, sick Mother and for the first time in ages she allowed
herself to feel something she hadn’t felt for a very long time.
Hope.
“OK, I’m in.
Just tell me when and where.”
“Good, I’m glad
you’ve seen sense. Although, I must make it quite clear, these
party games will be of a
sexual
nature.”
Nancy’s heart
instantly started beating at twice the normal speed and her lips
went dry. Her tongue flicked out to moisten them and she watched
him watching her mouth.
“I don’t
understand,” she stammered, “you want to pay me for sex?”
“No, not at
all. You have my word that my cock will not enter your pussy.”
His words had
her face burning.
“Then what
do
you mean?”
“You will just
have to come to dinner to find out.”
“I am not a
prostitute Mr Sharpe.”
“Indeed you are
not Miss Cooper.”
“Do you give me
your word that you won’t, well, you know.”
“Fuck you? I
promise I won’t fuck you, orally, anally or vaginally.”
“God! Please,
will you stop using language like that?”
“The quivering
virgin act is quite a turn on Nancy. I will have a chauffeur pick
you up at eight tomorrow night.”
“Now wait just
a minute, I haven’t agreed to any of this yet.”
Jasper sighed
in exasperation. “I told you, I will not fuck you. And you are free
to leave at any point during the evening. You do not have to do
anything you do not want to do.”
Nancy thought
of her Mother and she caved.
“OK, OK, I’ll
play your sick games Mr Sharpe. Good day to you.”
She stood up
and turned to leave, glancing fleetingly at the woman in the corner
of the room as she did so. Her head was still bowed and she acted
like she couldn’t hear a thing of what was being said.
So bloody
weird,
she thought one final time.
“Miss Cooper,
one last thing before you go.”
Nancy turned
around, her hand on the door handle.
She gasped in
shock at the sight which greeted her.
The woman who
had been sitting so quietly in the corner for the duration of the
interview was now on her feet.
And she had
taken off the severely cut jacket and was unbuttoning her crisp
white blouse. Her small, pert breasts came into view.
Nancy watched
in disbelief as the woman shrugged off the blouse.
Jasper laughed.
“Aren’t you curious to stay a little while longer? Don’t you want
to know what happens next?”
Nancy stood
there dumbfounded, her heart hammering. She wanted to turn and
leave, she knew that was what she should do.
But somehow,
she couldn’t. She watched mesmerised as the woman unzipped her
skirt and elegantly stepped out of it. She stood there in just her
white, lacy knickers and black high heels.
Nancy turned to
look at Jasper, her eyes wide.
“You passed the
first test,” he said softly.
“What do you
mean?” she asked, her voice so shaky she hardly trusted herself to
speak.
“You didn’t
leave. You stopped to watch. You are exactly what I’m looking for,
Nancy.”
Whatever
strange spell she had fallen under, his words broke it. She glanced
at the woman one final time before she opened the door. The woman
was pulling down her knickers, revealing her completely bald pubic
mound.
Jasper’s
laughter rang out after her as she fled the room.
The party.
The hour of
reckoning had arrived.
The hour of
Jasper’s party.
Nancy had been
nothing short of a nervous wreck all day. She had toyed with the
idea of not going, of making sure she was out when the clock struck
eight.
Instead she was
dressed in her finest black dress, a knee length, figure hugging
number that she considered to be sexy without being trashy.
Her Mother was
in a particularly weakened state today and was asleep upstairs.
Nancy had told her she was going out with the girls. She hated
lying to her but she figured she didn’t have much else of a choice.
What would she think of her if she knew she was going to some
weird, perverted party hosted by some sleazy millionaire?
The doorbell
sounded bang on eight o’clock and Nancy jumped, even though she was
stood in the hallway waiting for it.
She checked her
reflection in the hallway mirror one final time. She didn’t usually
wear much make-up but she had made an effort tonight. Her lips were
painted cherry red and she had attacked her wavy, shoulder length
hair with straighteners. She looked good and she knew it. Nancy was
not a vain woman, but neither was she stupid. There was no denying
the simple, almost childlike beauty of her face and she was far
from conceited over her symmetrical, Marilyn Monroe-esque features.
She still retained an innate modesty, the part of her that refused
to fully acknowledge quite how beautiful she really was. She had
far more important things to think about. Like her dying Mother and
paying the mortgage.