Page 5 of Enthrall
My iPhone rang and I nudged it away. I didn’t care who was calling. I wasn’t going to answer. My hand betrayed me and I glanced at the number. Wasn’t that the area code for Santa Monica? Or even Pacific Palisades?
I took a gulp of wine.
BAILEY HAD COME THROUGH for me yet again.
She’d leant me all of her black dresses until I could afford to go out and buy my own. Black being the dress code for Enthrall. My head was still spinning that I’d actually gotten this job. Talk about reading people wrong. Those three vixens had actually liked me. What a mind fuck.
There was a simple design to my desk, with its elegant glass front panel that was perfect for showing off my new boots. The flat screen computer was easy to navigate and Lotte had provided me with Enthrall’s diary in which I’d be making all their appointments.
Wearing this Elie Tahari Estelle dress, I hoped to make the best impression on my first day. Along with my Calvin Klein black high-heeled boots, which was the only item I’d been able to afford to buy brand new in a Macy’s sale.
I already missed my friends from the art store and promised them I’d stay in touch, just as I had with my Cheesecake pals who’d made those long evenings of waiting tables all the more bearable. I’d told them my new job was as a hostess in a nightclub, not sure quite what they would think of me if I shared the truth. I still had to break it to Lorraine.
Breathing in the fresh scent of incense, I marveled at how quickly this had all happened. My life had taken what felt like a 180 degree turn. A sense of order found me for the first time in years. My fear of having crashed and burned at my interview was now replaced with a sense of pride that I’d pulled it off. My one chance to let them see my potential had gone way better then I’d thought. Excitement swelled in my chest as I took everything in.
Behind that main doorway to my left, where clients were not allowed to venture, were three lavishly decorated offices. Next came the luxurious well-stocked coffee room, and they even had a staff changing room that doubled as a spa. It reminded me of one of those high-end places where you spend a fortune at to get pampered on your birthday, with its heavenly scent of sandalwood and the Buddha head resting upon an elegant waterfall pushed up against the far wall. A wooden bench sat facing it for staff needing to Zen-out. There was even a Jacuzzi and a sauna in there; the lemon ice-water drinking fountain made a nice touch. I’d been giddy with excitement when Lotte had invited me to use the facilities.
Enthrall’s other elevator sat behind me. It’s old fashioned crisscrossed golden gate providing a dramatic entryway into the lowest level. Lotte had given strict orders that under no circumstances were any guests allowed to venture down there without prior consent. She’d gone on to advise me I was also forbidden. Though being banned from the dungeon was fine by me.
The reception area was all dark wood and dim-lighting. A familiar theme it seemed. The burgundy, velvet sofa looked cozy. The hardwood floor provided a loft-like feel, though the deep red walls of the entryway gave off a disquieting aura. There was a perfection here that made me unsettled. Would I ever get used to it?
There came a ping from the front elevator.
Preparing to meet the first client of the day, I ran through my mind how I’d greet them and what kind of words I might draw on to soften what must be an embarrassing ordeal of needing to visit this place. Opening Enthrall’s appointment diary and scanning today’s page, I couldn’t see any appointments scheduled earlier than 2:00 P.M.
The lift doors parted and a tall, dashing, twenty-something man strolled out, his short sandy-blond hair windswept, the strap to his satchel lying flat across his chest. He headed fast toward me with his hand cupping his right eye.
“Hi.” He waved at me and headed for the staff door.
I flew from my seat and edged my way between him and the door. “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s staff only,” I said, proud of the authority in my voice.
I was sandwiched between him and the door.
He peered down at me with his noble, intelligent face. The kind that hints at good breeding, as though both his parents had been stunners. Like he’d stepped off the cover of a yachting magazine, all suntan and privilege. Yes, beautiful, that was it, and rugged at the same time. An hypnotic combo.
“My contact lens is boring its way into my iris.” He scrunched up his face. “Please, get out of my way.”
“Sir, I’m going have to ask you to take a seat.”
“What temp agency are you from?” he said.
“I’m not a temp. I work here full-time.”
“No you don’t.” He seethed, grabbing the handle and opening the door. He nudged me aside and bolted down the hallway.
Annoyed by his arrogance, I ran to my desk and pushed the panic button.
Nothing.
What good was an alarm if no one responded? I opened the door and peeked down the hallway. At least I’d warned them we had an intruder.
Mistress Lotte appeared, taking her time to reset the alarm on what looked like an air con panel on the wall. “Mia,” she said, “everything’s fine.”
“You know him?” My gaze moved over her shoulder and rested on the young man who’d barged in.
Oh shit.
He fixed on me with a glaring intensity, his midnight blue eyes burning through me. Chiseled features worn so well on a proud face. An edgy confidence. He wore round rimmed glasses, having taken out his contacts, and that five o’clock shadow I’d failed to notice when he’d first appeared oozeddon’t mess with me. Yet he dressed preppy, his white shirt open at the collar and his black jacket now removed.
