Chapter 83: Chapter 83

She works her way through the lingerie, taking her time.

She chose this shop carefully. Most of the lingerie shops and counters have female assistants, but this one...

His eyes follow her, and she knows it. Occasionally pausing over some item, she looks up at him, smiling.

She settles on a set in deep green satin, trimmed with lace in a pale gold. The bra plunges deeply, and the panties are cut high at the hip. She holds them to herself, looking at her reflection and conscious of the man looking over her shoulder. She turns to face him “They're awfully pretty. They'd suit me well don't you think?”

He licks his lips. “When you've paid for them, yes.”

She looks at the tag. “But they're so expensive...” Her jade-eyed gaze lifts to his. “Would you like me to model them for you?”

His eyes dart sidelong to the door, then he nods across the room. “The changing rooms are over there, madam.” As he follows her, he bolts the shop door.

*****

Surrounded by bags bearing expensive designer names and logos, Mitch sits on her bed, surveying her prizes. She lays them out carefully, stroking away any creases from the blouse; filmy silk in a pale cream with a matching skirt. Wearing it, while cut to a demure length, it is slit high to one side.

She can't resist. She meant to hang them all carefully away, but she can't wait. Quickly she dresses again in the green satin bra and panties and the suspender belt which she spotted a little later. When she puts on the skirt and blouse, carefully easing aside the fabric of the skirt, it displays her stocking tops just as she hoped.

All she needs now is shoes and nice jewellery. And perhaps a bag to accessorise?

*****

The assistant kneels by her, squeezing the toe. “Are they quite wide enough for you, madam?”

“Perhaps you have something like them in a wider size?”

He begins to nod and to stand, but discovers that, all hidden from the view of the shop, the toe of the shoe is rubbing inside his thigh.

He swallows hard, looking up, and finds himself lost in a pair of brilliant green eyes set in porcelain skin and framed by red-gold hair.

*****

A figure enters the hotel. Walking like a queen, she is elegantly dressed in cream satin. In the high heels, she is close to six feet tall. She could be a model or an actress. Perhaps she is the trophy wife of some city executive, a banker maybe, or a lawyer.

The manager is there. He smiles. “Good morning, madam. Can I help you?”

She freezes in mid-step, but his smile remains, shiny and obsequious.

“I'm just waiting for someone.”

“The bar lounge is through there, madam. Across the lobby and to the left. Would you like me to have refreshments served while you wait?”

“Just tea, please.”

“I’ll see to it right away.”

Her eyes follow him sidelong as he marches smartly to the bar, issuing curt instructions to the boy manning the counter.

Suppressing a smile, she makes her way to the lounge.

*****

He’s not expecting much from the trip. One boring meeting after another. If he’s lucky, they might sign the contract this trip. More likely he’ll have to come back a couple of times while they prevaricate and demand more details, extra costings, more projections.

But he’s a professional. And a professional keeps smiling as long as it’s needed to get the job done.

A drink….

Then an early night with a good book, or maybe a movie.

In the lounge, discreet music plays. A fire burns in the hearth. A pleasant environment.

“What can I get you, sir?”

“Malt on the rocks, please.”

A bottle. The clink of ice cubes and the glass slides across to him. He sips, inhaling the vapours and feeling the chill burn hit the back of his throat.

That’s good….

He tugs his tie open, undoes the top button of his shirt, then perching a hip onto a stool, turns to survey the room.

At the other end of the bar is a woman. Pale silk and paler skin are crowned by auburn hair which highlights gold under the chandeliers. Wide-set eyes, green as the sea, green as leaves, bore into him.

She is exquisite….

She smiles at him….

*****

He knots his tie, looking in the mirror. “Is that straight?”

“Um, not quite.” She starts to rise, but suddenly shy, she wraps a sheet around herself, tucking the corner in at the top to hold it. He looks down as she unravels the knot.

“You’ve done that before?”

“Brothers,” she smiles.

“You're quite sweet you know. That's not what I expected.”

She chews her lower lip, retying the knot.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Not long.”

“How long?”

She doesn’t answer, but her eyes flick up to his and then down again as she adjusts the knot into his collar.

“Dare ask how old you are?”

She hesitates then, “I'm eighteen.”

He eyes her. “Alright, you're eighteen. Where's your family?”

“Back home.”

“And you don't want to go back?”

“No, I don't.”

He paces the room, hands in pockets, desire warring with lust. “Look, I'm here in the City a couple of nights a month. Would you like to meet up again?”

“Mmmm, yes.” She smiles brightly.

“Alright, next time I’m here is the twenty-sixth. Be in the bar around eight or nine pm. If they want to know what you're doing there you can say you're meeting Max Parker.”

“I’ll be here.”

“I have to go now.” He reaches into his jacket pocket, takes out his wallet, thrusts bills at her. “That okay?”

Her eyes widen, but she keeps her voice casual. “That’s fine, yes.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, Mitch.”

As the door closes behind him, she scrabbles at the money he just gave her, checking the amount. It’s more than she ever made in a week before.

Delightedly, she sits on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs.

There’s a little left in the champagne bottle.

No point letting it go to waste….

Grinning broadly, she tips it into a flute.

And that was just the start….

*****