Silicon Valley, California. Four Months Later SAMANTHA STOOD IN FRONT OF the bathroom mirror leaning perilously over the sink, trying to stroke some eyeshadow over her left eye. Her strokes were more like stabs, and she rubbed her finger across the lid to blend the powder as best she could.
Two of the light bulbs hanging over the mirror had gone out not two minutes ago, both at the same time, and now the lighting was too dim to get a good idea what kind of job she was doing. But there was no time to worry about that now; she was already running late. Not much, only by a few minutes, but enough to make her sister furious.
âSamantha, will you come on!â Her sister called. Kimberly was already downstairs, ready and waiting to go. Kimberlyâs boyfriend, Scott, had not shown up yet, but Kim wanted to be out the door as soon as she heard his car honk.
âComing!â Samantha yelled as she thrust at her right eye with the eyeshadow applicator, poking herself in the process. Samantha flinched and dropped the applicator, deciding to give up. Giving both eyelids a few quick rubs of her fingertips, she snapped the eyeshadow case closed, allowed herself one last look in the mirror, decided the picture she presented would have to do no matter how plain and shabby she looked, and ran down the stairs to meet her sister.
âFinally,â Kimberly said under her breath. Samantha didnât answer, but inwardly she bristled. She hadnât wanted to come tonight anyway. As far as she was concerned, her sister could have left without her, and that would have been just fine with her.
Samantha grabbed her purse off one of the dining room chairs, slipped it over her shoulder, and thought of a good retort. Just then, she heard a car horn beep from outside.
âScottâs here,â Kimberly said. She twisted the lock to open the front door, and the two women hurried outside. Samantha locked up while her sister folded her body into the passenger-side seat of Scottâs car. As Samantha got into the back, she saw her sister give a wet, and slightly-too-long kiss to her boyfriend. Samantha looked away.
âHow are you, Sam?â Scott asked into the mirror reflection as he unlocked his lips from Kimberlyâs and put the car in reverse. The car began to back out of the driveway.
âIâm fine, Scott, thank you,â Samantha replied. She looked out the window as Scott picked up speed. Soon, they were on the highway, driving downtown.
âAnything new at the your shop?â Scott asked.
âItâs picking up, day by day,â Samantha said, purposely being vague. Scott always asked about her shop each time he saw her. Samantha had no idea why. She thought it might just be his attempt at conversation, but somehow, it didnât feel that way. Samantha had no idea what he thought she would possibly tell him that her sister wouldnât have already. Her sister was his girlfriend, after all, and worked at Samanthaâs small clothing boutique. Anything Scott wanted to know, he could just ask Kimberly.
Samantha had asked Kimberly not to give out too much business information to anyone, not even Scott, but she knew Kimberly too well to hope her sister would honor her request. Kimberly had a big mouth, and she was still in that âIâll do anything to prove my love for youâ stage with Scott. She would tell him anything. Then again, she had been that way with all her many boyfriends. None of them had ever lasted very long. Scott was close to setting a new record, and the longer he went out with Kimberly, the more Kimberly thought she could trust him.
Samantha wished she could trust Scott like her sister did, but she couldnât. There was something she didnât like about the guy. He hadnât done anything specific to make her think he was a bad person, but her instincts were telling her to be careful and watch out, and she had learned to trust her instincts in the last year, despite all the times they had failed her.
Scott seemed to realize Samantha was still keeping her distance and not giving in to his charm so fast. So he acted twice as nice when she was around, as if hoping, eventually, she would let her guard down.
Maybe it would happen. Maybe not. Samantha didnât feel obligated to capitulate just for her sisterâs sake. In fact, she felt like she should be sure of the guy before giving the pair her mental blessing to be together. Kimberly was the only family she had left, and Samantha felt responsible for her, probably more than she should.
But Kimberly had already given Scott her heart, despite the fact that they had only known each other for a couple of months. For Kimberly, a couple of months was a long time.
âSo where are we going tonight?â Samantha asked, trying to feign some interest.
âIâm taking you ladies to Catâs Club,â Scott replied. Kimberly squealed in delight and clapped her hands together.
Even Samantha had to smile. Catâs Club was a popular and selective dance club downtown. It was almost impossible to get in unless you were beautiful, famous, rich, or knew someone. Kimberly and Samantha had tried a few weeks before to get inside, and had been turned away. If Scott was taking them there, then he must have found a way to get them all in.
âThanks, honey!â Kimberly said, her voice high and sweet.
âNo problem, babe,â Scott said. He looked through the overhead mirror again at Samantha, waiting.
âThanks, Scott,â Samantha replied. She gazed at him through the mirror reflection. Scott caught her eyes and smiled, satisfied.
âIâm going to show you two lovely ladies a good time,â he said. Samantha saw her sister give a loving stare to her boyfriend, and turned her eyes back to the view outside the window.
Maybe tonight really would be fun, she thought. She could sure use some.
~ * * * ~
Across town, two men were just closing up their briefcases after a long, strenuous business meeting. They had been in a conference call with Australia, negotiating a contract, but the meeting was now over, the outcome met with satisfaction, and they were both very relieved. One of the men was Mr. Jake Larenza, venture capitalist. The other was his associate, employee, and close friend, Mr. Brian Sinclaire.
âThis deal is going to make us millions, Brian,â Jake said. He was so happy he looked almost giddy. Brian smiled, more subdued but equally excited.
âI agree,â he said. âIâve got a good feeling about this one.â
âWhich is all I need to hear to know Iâm making the right choice,â Jake said, slapping Brian on the back. Jake made no secret he found Brianâs natural business instincts almost uncanny. Since taking Brian into his business a few months before, Jakeâs profits and dividends had doubled in all the investments he had given to Brian to handle. As far as Jake was concerned, there was no questioning that kind of track record, and he would have gladly given Brian more projects to lead if Brian had not objected.
âTime to celebrate, my friend,â Jake said. The two men walked side by side to the elevator and down to the garage. The rest of the building, as well as the parking garage, was deserted. It was a friday night, and very late. Everyone was either already home or out having fun.
âI think Iâll head home Jake,â Brian said, turning to face his friend. His car was the black BMW on the right; Jakeâs was the red Porsche on the left. It was time to part ways.
âOh come on, Brian. Itâs friday night. Wonât Dana be expecting you at Sade?â Jake asked. Club Sade was the name of the BDSM dungeon where Brian held membership. Jake had started joining Brian on his frequent visits to Club Sade, even though he didnât consider himself in the âscene,â or even that much of a kinkster. At least, not yet. But Jake liked to watch, and learn.
Brian thought there was more to Jakeâs interest than he was letting on, but didnât say so. It was up to his friend to make his own decisions, and go at his own pace.
âI havenât spoken to Dana at all this week. I have no idea if sheâll be there or not,â Brian said. âBut I just donât feel like going to Sade tonight.â
âOh,â Jake said, trying to detect if there was any hint of frustration in Brianâs voice because he hadnât spoken to Dana in so long. When it was clear to Jake there was none, he shrugged. âWell, if youâre not in the mood for whipping and spanking some soft eager ass, why donât you join me at Catâs tonight? Who knows, maybe youâll find some unsuspecting innocent you can break in with your skills of seduction.â
Brian smiled wistfully. âI donât do newbies anymore,â he said.
Jake waited for Brian to say more, but Brian just looked down and shook his head.
âOkay, so forget about all those untapped innocent subs out there,â Jake said. âLetâs just go have a few drinks, maybe catch a couple dances. It doesnât have to be about belts and paddles all the time, right? You do remember how to dance, donât you?â He dropped his briefcase to the ground and made some exaggerated hip and arm gyrations, jerking his head from side to side. It reminded Brian of a spooked chicken, and he laughed.
âIf you dance like that, theyâll throw us out,â Brian said, giving in.
âFuck no they wonât,â Jake said, picking up his briefcase. âIâm part owner of the club.â
~ * * * ~
The blaring music, flashing strobe lights, and bumping bodies made Samantha feel disoriented and slightly claustrophobic as she walked across the dance floor to the bar. The place was packed, a wave of people circling, swaying, and weaving around each other. Samantha was focusing all her attention on keeping her sister in her sights at all times. She was afraid if they lost each other in this crowd, it might take them hours to find each other again.
Scott was doing a pretty good job of keeping the three of them together, but Kimberly wanted to dance, and that meant leaving Samantha alone. Which was fine with Samantha, as long as they knew where to find her. She could do with a few minutes on her own, and she knew how to handle any unwanted attention that came her way.
âWeâll be back as soon as the song is over!â Scott shouted over the music, leading Kimberly onto the dance floor.
âWhy donât you try to get us a table?â Kimberly yelled over her shoulder. âThey have some over there.â She pointed across the club.
âIâll meet you over there, then,â Samantha yelled back, pointing in the same general direction. Her sister gave her a thumbs-up, and let Scott pull her onto the floor. The pair of them were soon swallowed up by the crowd.
Samantha made her way around the floor, sidestepping the traffic of people, and found an empty table all the way in the corner, far away from the reach of lights that blazed up the dance area. The music in the corner was still loud, but not so loud Samantha couldnât hear herself think. She perched herself on one of the cushioned bar stools circling the high square table, settled in, and sighed in relief. It was good to get off her feet. Her shoes were hurting her.
âHey beautiful, want to dance?â A voice said too close to her ear. Samantha turned her head, and almost came nose-to-nose with a complete stranger. He didnât move back when Samantha flinched away in surprise. In fact, he smiled.
âNo, thank you,â Samantha said, her voice curt.
âOh câmon, just one dance,â the man shouted into her face. âYou donât even have to do anythingâIâll do all the work.â He tried to grab her hand, and Samantha jerked it back. She heard laughter coming from the next table and turned her head around to look.
A group of men were staring at them, watching the byplay. Samantha realized they were the manâs friends, and they were apparently getting a good kick out of the way she was rejecting his advances. Samantha frowned.
âI donât want to dance with you,â she said louder. The group of men laughed harder, hearing her words. The man scowled.
âYou come to a dance club, and you donât want to dance?â He yelled. Samantha groaned to herself. She couldnât be left alone for a few minutes?
âHey buddy, she didnât say she doesnât want to dance. She said she doesnât want to dance with you,â Samantha heard Scottâs voice behind her. She held herself back from smiling in relief. She had backup now, but the situation was not diffused yet.
âHey, I didnât mean to move in on your girl,â the stranger said, taking a step back. Samantha looked at his face, and saw the man looked afraid. Scott must be giving him quite a look to make him that nervous, she thought. Before she could turn around to see Scottâs expression for herself, Kimberly took the seat in the barstool next to her, and cocked her head at the stranger by her side.
âGet lost,â She yelled, waving her hand like she was shooing away a fly. âThis is our table.â
The manâs friends at the other table began to laugh uproariously. Realizing he had just made a ridiculous failure of himself, the stranger shrugged, smiled, and retreated to his friends, who welcomed him back with hoots and jeers. After a few minutes, they moved away from their table, likely to hit on some other unsuspecting female.
âYou okay, Samantha?â Scott asked. He really wasnât such a bad guy, Samantha thought.
âIâm fine,â she said. âBut thanks for your help. I donât think that guy would have left me alone anytime soon if you hadnât showed up.â
âNo problem,â Scott said. He pinched his shirt between two fingers and pumped it a few times against his chest, letting the air hit his skin. âGod, I need a drink.â
âWhat you need is to work out more,â Kimberly said. âOnly one dance, and heâs already out of breath. Now heâs going to sit here for the next half hour and not move.â Kimberly laughed. Samantha grinned, but when she looked at Scottâs face, her grin faded.
He looked angry. Not just angry; he looked furious, like he was barely holding himself back from letting loose his fury. Samantha had seen that look before on a different man, someone who had enjoyed hurting her, and she almost put her hands up to block Scottâs path to her sister.
But in the next instant, Scottâs look of fury was gone, and in its place was chagrin.
âYouâre right,â Scott said. âI am out of shape. Which is why I need a drink. So if you want to keep dancing so badly, why donât you take your sister on the dance floor, and Iâll get us a round of drinks?â
Kimberlyâs smile was huge. âYes! Câmon, Sam! Dance with me!â Before Samantha could protest, she was being dragged across the dance floor into the center of the crowd. Her sister quickly began moving to the beat of the music, and Samantha found herself caught up in the lights and the rhythmic thumping.
âYou see? You do remember how to have fun!â Her sister leaned in to yell at her as the DJ moved on to another song.
Samantha smiled. âYes, but Iâm like Scott: out of shape! I need that drink now, too.â Kimberly nodded in agreement, and took hold of Samanthaâs fingers to lead her off the dance floor. They were met at the edge of the dance floor by Scott.
âI got our drinks,â he said, walking back with them to the table. âI hope I got âem right.â
They sat down, and all of them took a few sips of their drinks. Then Kimberly and Samantha took a sip of each otherâs, and quickly decided to trade.
âIâm sorry I got them wrong,â Scott said, looking upset.
Samantha laughed. âItâs no big deal,â she said. She was having a good time, and was feeling amenable. âYou want to dance with Kimberly some more?â
âI want to finish my drink first,â Kimberly cut in. âWhy donât you and Scott go dance? Maybe you could teach him a thing or two, Samantha. Lord knows he could use some new moves.â
âI donât knowâ¦â
âOh, go on. Scott, go dance with Sam,â Kimberly ordered. For a moment, Scott looked angry again. But then he gave in, took Samantha by the arm, and pulled her back toward the dance floor with a grin. Samantha shrugged and went along with it, thinking one dance couldnât do any harm.
But as she and Scott began moving to the music, her senses went on high alert, and she became nervous. She looked around, trying to find the source of her sudden apprehension. The hairs on the back of her neck had begun to rise, and her breath quickened.
Someone was watching her. She could feel it.
Scott didnât notice her discomfort. He was holding her loosely, his hands moving from her shoulders to her waist and back again. He was hopping and swaying to the music.
Samantha was barely moving at that point. Her anxiety was too great.
âScott, letâs go back to Kimberly,â she said. Scott stopped dancing and looked at her in surprise; then he shrugged. âSure,â he said.
They started walking back to their table, Samantha looking around wildly the whole time, trying to find the source of her worry. She still felt like someone was watching her.
But when she got back to their table, she stared at her sister. Kimberly was perched half on, half off her bar stool, looking giddy. âLook, we got free drinks!â She yelled, waving to the fresh round of filled glasses on the table. She was already almost done with her second drink.
âWhy did we get free drinks?â Samantha asked with a frown. Something was not right.
âWho cares?â Kimberly answered. âJust drink it and donât worry about it!â She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp, then tilted her head back and wiggled her brows. âWhoa, thatâs good stuff!â
Scott scowled. âYou shouldnât be accepting drinks from other guys. Itâs not right.â
âOh, Scott, donât be such a party pooper,â Kimberly said. Her voice was slurred. As Samantha watched, Kimberlyâs eyes rolled back, and she began to fall off her bar stool.
âKimberly!â She yelled. Scott caught Kimberly before she could fall to the floor. Her head lolled back, and her eyes closed. âScott, what the hell is wrong with her?â Samantha shouted.
âI donât know,â he said, looking down at Kimberlyâs drunken face.
Responding to the commotion in the corner, a bouncer came up to their table, took one look at Kimberly lying pliant on the floor, and drew his own conclusions.
âYou need to get your drunk friend out of here,â he ordered them. âWe donât tolerate that here.â
âSheâs not drunk, she only had a couple drinks!â Samantha said, standing up to face the bouncer.
âYeah, right,â the bouncer retorted, pointing to Kimberly. âI know drunk when I see it.â
âSheâs not drunk, sheâs sick!â
âLady, I donât care whatâs wrong with her. I just donât want it in my club. Get her out, nowâor Iâll get her out for you.â
âDonât you touch her!â Samantha screamed.
And then, out of the shadows, a form came forward, the silhouette of a man Samantha thought she would never see again, yet would recognize anywhere. The lights lit on his tall body in short bursts, illuminating his features with blinks of an eye. Samantha blinked herself a few times, trying to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her; but when he spoke, Samantha knew without a doubt this man was real.
âIs there something going on here I can help with?â Mr. Sinclaire asked.