Page 62 of Enthrall
Cameron had told the senator whatever it was he wanted belonged to the assistant director. They’d been talking about me, I knew it. Especially since Cameron’s grip tightened on my thigh when he’d spoken those words.
“Hair, Mia,” said Richard.
I pulled out each hair tie and clutched them.
Richard held out his hand and I placed the ties into his palm. He threw them out of the car. Within twenty minutes we were driving along the Pacific Coast Highway.
“Where are we going?” I said.
“I’m thinking.”
“Driving helps you to think?”
“Quiet helps me think.”
I slid lower and gazed out at the blur of scenery. To our right the hills rose up into the darkness, and to our left luxury homes overlooked the ocean. Beyond them the sea shimmered beneath the moon. Off in the distance sprawling mountains loomed large, making me wonder what lay on the other side. I hoped Richard wouldn’t leave me stranded somewhere.
“I’m sorry,” I said to appease him.
He ran his hand through his hair. “Don’t do it again.”
I wanted to tell him that Cameron had been very persuasive, bullying me into it really, but thought better of it. Richard’s gaze drifted to my legs and he shook his head in what looked like disbelief.
“You have double standards,” I broke the silence.
“Next time you enter a dragon’s lair,” he said, “don’t wear that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you do as you’re told.” He shoved the car into fifth.
We drove for what seemed a lifetime. The music was a welcome distraction.
My instinct not to wear this had been right. I tried to pull it down but there was nothing really to pull down. Now out of the ponytails, my hair was out of control. I twisted it around my hand and held onto it.
We sped past a sign announcing we were in Point Dume Rivera.
Richard pulled the car up before a large brass gate and buzzed it open. I wondered who lived here and questioned if they’d mind us visiting so late. A little way up the driveway loomed an elegant Spanish home with a tiled roof, its stucco finish providing a Mediterranean air complimented by the high arching windows, and all of this overlooked by tall, lush palm trees.
Once parked, we made our way to the front door. Winston trotted beside us. I bent low to pat his head. Gingerly, I followed Richard inside, hoping whoever we were meeting weren’t put off by my slutty attire.
“Make yourself at home.” Richard threw his car keys onto a side table in the entryway.
“Is this your place?”
“Help yourself to a drink. I have to make a quick call.” He made his way across the living room toward a large screen door, unlocked it, and stepped out.
The low lighting, expensive decor, and soft beige walls leant a colonial style. The room was spacious and yet cozy and the several beautifully carved far eastern pieces of furniture made the place homey. It smelled of fresh air and ocean.
I followed him, admiring the pool twinkling in the moonlight and the well-tended garden. Even the lighting out here had been well thought out. I wondered if Richard had used an interior designer or if this was his taste.
I knelt to dip my hand into the water, immersing it in the warmth of the heated pool. Winston nuzzled up beside me and sniffed the water.
Richard glared at his BlackBerry and screamed into it, “What the fuck, Cameron! What the fucking, fuckerty, fuck!” He threw his phone amongst the bushes. When he turned and saw me, he jolted back and his expression softened. “Well, that took care of that bit of business.”
I wondered how Cameron might react when he got that message, though after the pain he’d inflicted on my thigh I couldn’t help but feel gratitude to Richard.
“You have a pool,” I said, making conversation.
