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Indecent Proposal [Traveler et dearestdarling]

Her trembling fingertips worked each tiny button from it's restraint, slowly releasing the sides of her silky shirt to reveal more of her milky skin. The woman never saw the sun; there was no difference between the pale cream of her neck and that of the swells of her breasts; she was like a woman who had been locked in a castle her entire life. Her bosom heaved with each shuddering breath, and though he could tell that she was trying to keep her composure the blush across her neckline betrayed her nervousness.

She was too sweet; she would have been picked apart in the strip joint like raw meat thrown to a pack of dogs. Here, however - she was perfect.

Then she slid her skirt down those long legs, across her hips and over her ankles, and the way she stood there as her hands tidily folded the skirt made him feel like he was a predator and she, the unsuspecting lamb.

He lavished his gaze over her body. Her breasts were restrained by that perfect, pink bra - it was the perfect nod to her innocence with just enough peakaboo naughtiness to remind anyone looking upon her that she was legal. She looked like some high school kid playing dress up. He wanted to bend her over a school desk and ravage her, but he held his fantasy in check. Barely.

Her matching panties were very 'Victoria's Secret'. She could have been a model in a glossy magazine. The garter belt spoke 'class' and 'old-school'. They made him want to lift her up onto his hips and take her behind the orchestra pit at an opera. He could imagine her holding a glass of champagne in one hand, opera glasses in the other, and panting softly as he plowed her while the musicians played above them in the grand hall. He had no doubt she had been to finer places in her youth; he had recognized a swan when he saw her navigating the pig stye that was the Toybox. She had been out of her element. Now she was much closer to where she should be, but she hadn't quite reached her potential.

"Are you so eager to practice for Mr. Giovani, Sadie?" He moved closer to her, nearly floating across the room as his eyes stalked her body. Once he reached her he used two tanned, strong fingers to move the hair from her shoulder. He caressed the side of her neck with the back of those same fingers. He locked his gaze on hers. "Did you think I was going to fuck you today?" He tilted his head slightly, then his tone hardened. "You haven't earned it."

His hand moved down to slide along her bra strap, then smooth over one breast through her bra. "I told you to take off your clothes. All your clothes. If you cannot follow such a straightforward instruction then how will you ever do the things I want you to do? I did not think that you were simple minded, my dear. Do not disappoint me."

His hand left her body but he was standing so close that the expensive cologne he wore seemed to pull her closer. He did not overpower himself with scent; it was just enough to be noticeable if anyone cared to notice, but not overpowering. He radiated heat as he stood there, fully clothed, while she stood half-naked. "Take. All. Your. Clothing. Off."
 
"Did you think I was going to fuck you today?"

It sounded so vulgar when he said it like that, but... part of her liked that. Was it chilly in the office, or was it the way he looked at her that made her shiver? She wanted to deny that she had expected it, but her flustered expression made it impossible. Although he was older than her, Mr. Amir was completely gorgeous, handsome in a way that further intimidated her. She closed her eyes briefly as he gently drew her hair from her skin, leaving a ticklish trail in its wake. Every move was so calculated, deliberate. She was beginning to understand what he had meant about seduction being an art form, not a mechanical task, Peg A in Slot B.

Her eyes fluttered open as he slid his fingertips down the length of her milky neck, fire lingering behind. The sensible part of her resisted the idea that a man that she had hardly met, that was basically paying for her services as a prostitute, could inspire such pleasure in her with such a simple touch.

"You haven't earned it yet." She shuddered. The thought that she would have to earn the privilege of fucking him seemed ludicrous, but then, she wasn't the one making the rules.

She inhaled sharply as he cupped her breast, as casually as he might shake her hand. Was this in the contract? There had been so many papers she had to sign, she could hardly remember. So he did want all of her clothes off... How badly did she want this money, anyway?

"Yes, sir," she found herself saying, "I'm sorry that this outfit wasn't... What you wanted."

Really, really badly, apparently. She stepped out of her heels, and placed them side by side on his desk. Next, she unclipped the gossamer stockings from the garter belt, and slowly slid them down her legs, bending down and trying not to think of how her pert ass was perfectly on display for him. She was nothing, if not on display for him. The belt followed, and her heart was racing as her hands rose to the clasp between her breasts. She hadn't been this bare in front of a man since Seth. Before him, no one.

'Think about the money.'

Click! She freed the teeth of the clasp from their confines, sliding the straps down her freckled shoulders. She exhaled, the pulled the still-warm cups of the lacy bra away from her body, her nipples were perked from the exhilaration she felt.

One thing left. Her hands fell to her waist, and without breaking eye contact with Mr. Amir, she tugged the scrap of pink all the way to the ground, revealing the dusky rose skin beneath. She tried not to tremble as she laid those on his desk, too.
 
Sir.

Her lips wrapped around that word and sent a strange heat into his skull. She had said it without instruction; it came to her more easily than her obedience, this word 'Sir'. He saw her beginning to strip and he stepped back to give her room. Anyone giving a show needed room to perform, did they not? His hands found the desk behind his thighs and he gripped it, leaning against it so that he could watch her unimpeded. Her slow, unrehearsed striptease was all the more erotic for it's innocent clumsiness. She bent over and displayed herself to him, her firm, youthful body calling out to him to lay a strap of leather across her ass and leave pink lines behind.

She turned around and placed her delicate fingers around the clasp. They worked the little hook free, and then she spread her hands and allowed her breasts to flow out, bouncing slightly as they settled to their natural height. They were very nearly where they were in the bra, only more full now that they had been released. He watched, his dark eyes like the stormy evening skies, as she slid the bra completely off her shoulders and down her arms. Standing there, clad in just her panties, she looked like someone's school girl fantasy. All she needed was pony tails and knee-high white socks to complete the illusion.

He felt her eyes calling to him, and he directed himself to take her gaze as she began to slide the pink panties down her legs. Her brazen eye contact would have gotten her beaten in his native country, but this wasn't his native country. Here, women did not have to cast their eyes to the ground or hide the blush of their cheeks beneath a scarf. They were free to make eye contact, to say 'no', and to refuse the attention of a man if they so wished.

That was... women who weren't being paid. Those women had to do what they were told. They had to, and many of them liked it.

He saw her fully then; her naked splendor, that probably only one or two other men had seen in her adult life, was laid before him like a buffet. She had shaven a few days ago at the Toybox but he hadn't seen her completely naked; the slim line that lead to her treasure box was made that more alluring by the soft down that had begun to grow back. She must not have had a lover; that was good news. He did not want anything complicated by other people who might draw her away from their mission.

He pushed off the desk and strode towards her, his steps measured as if he was about to examine a fine piece of sculpture that he was considering. "You have a good structure," he commented. His suit jacked brushed her arm as he circled her. He leaned over her shoulder to see the way her breasts dropped, then the swell of her hips... she was indeed finely built. She had a dancer's body, but the full curves of a complete woman.

"Have you had children?" He turned to face her. He ran strong fingers along the long, red and platinum strands of her hair, then let it go to bounce back into their curls. She was like a perfect doll. He took one of her hands and lifted it, then the other, above her shoulders to see how her breasts moved; they were perfect. The right type of cloth draped over her in the right kind of blouse could drive a man crazy with want. He slowly let her arms go, and then twirled one finger in a circle as he pointed it to the ground, instructing her to turn around.

"It's not your fault the clothing was wrong. I misjudged; you will have more impact if you are not like all the others. We are going to throw you in like a lamb to the wolf." He smiled at the thought. "Why not catch him off guard from day one?" His smile grew more cobra-like. "How do you feel about leather?"
 
She thought she saw the twitch of a smile when she had called him 'sir', but she could've just as easily imagined it. She felt intimidated but she didn't want to show it; the backs of her knees felt wobbly and weak, and her pulse stuttered and started as he watched her with those strange, magnetic eyes. She felt afraid of him, though she knew that was silly. What did she have to fear?

She felt that gaze burning across her skin, settling into secret corners that almost no one had been to before. What did he think? Was she enough? If she was, wouldn't he be touching her by now? His silent observation of her drove her crazy with uncertainty. Did he like what he saw? She held his gaze as she pulled her panties down every endless inch of her legs, her breath shallow as she tried to disguise her nervousness. This was so much more intimate than her disastrous performance at the Toybox. She felt as though Amir could read her as plainly as he could a book.

His face gave nothing away. She glanced briefly at the frosted glass wall, wondering if the people just beyond it had any idea that she was completely bare and trembling there, in broad daylight. Mr. Amir had said that they only had one chance for this to work, but was she the only girl that he had considered? Stripped down in his office and observed with that keen, slightly disparaging eye? Then her gaze shifted quickly back to Amir as he sauntered towards her, every bit of him cat-like, powerful, graceful.

"Have you had children?" her throat tightened, and she exhaled. Should she lie? Could she lie? She felt certain that he could probably figure out if she did. But Evie...

"I... have. But she's not part of this. Let's keep it that way." No amount of money in the world would make her risk Evie's illusion of a normal life, her safety, her identity. If he pressed that, she would walk.

She moved as he guided her to, trying not to feel bashful as he watched her breasts rise and fall with her movement. They were nothing like the ones that those girls at the Toybox had had, false and grossly swollen, but he seemed to prefer that they weren't. Sadie felt that she was beginning to be able to tell when he was pleased with her, though he barely gave any inclination either way.

Leather?! She squeaked, but thankfully only internally. Was she supposed to be some kind of dominatrix? She cleared her throat quietly, attempting to collect herself before she began to speak. "Ah--" Her voice was high, too high. She fought to bring it to its normal octave. "Um, whatever you think that Mr. Giovanni would be drawn to... Sir." She watched carefully for his reaction to the last word, wondering if she could catch that glimmer of satisfaction again.
 
"So, you have no natural aversion to wearing such things? Leather? Furs?" He tilted his head slightly as he studied her, then he reached out to draw the back of a finger along her jawline as if examining a fine piece of art. "It does not bother you, this thought that something died to provide you the things you will wear?" He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. Her bare body seemed to perk in the cool air and he momentarily wondered if she might need a shawl or risk catching a chill. She seemed so delicate and young.

But that innocence was what would disarm Giovanni. Amir knew it - if he could mix her purity with a hint of sexual confidence, he'd have a weapon to use against his nephew that would finally succeed where years of efforts could not.

"A person does not always surround himself by the things that he enjoys." His voice had grown low. His fingers trailed down her neck and across her body, along the outside curve of her breast, then down her rib cage until his hand rested on her hips. Her skin was cool to the touch. He paused.

"Let us warm you first, then we shall discuss my nephew." He left her side and went to his desk. Draped over the back of his chair was a very expensive, well-tailored suit jacket. Amir brought it to Sadie and set it around her shoulders. A warm, expensive scent accompanied the silk and wool blend. "For now. We will entertain ourselves with costuming after I've given you the... respect... of answering your questions. I'm certain you have a few, yes?" He gestured to the fine leather and sued couches that flanked a gnarled wood table covered in layers of thick lacquer. "Let us sit, and you may ask."
 
Sadie felt as though she was in a strange dream, showing up to a class she didn't know she was taking, for a test she hasn't studied for, and naked no less. What was the right answer...? Truthfully she hadn't ever given much thought to the whole animal rights thing. Did he want her to object to wearing leather or fur? Was he just messing with her? It was impossible to get a proper read on what was going on beyond those rich, dark chocolate eyes. Something strange and new blossomed in her chest as he drew a finger along her jaw, and she tried to maintain composure as he continued his close, almost clinical study of her body. Was he pleased with what he saw?

In, and out. In, and out. In... Her breath caught as his wide, warm hand slid down her throat, the side of one pert, full breast, down to her ribs. She had thought maybe he would want to touch her more intimately, to continue whatever test he had in mind for her, but then she remembered what he had said on the subject. She would have to earn that. At once she both rejected the idea outright, and was enthralled by it. She shouldn't have to earn whatever she had to learn to wrap Giovanni around her little finger, but at the same time... Anything that had to be worked for piqued her curiosity.

"A person does not always surround himself with things he enjoys." The near-growl of her voice nearly made her shudder. As his hand reached her hip, she wanted to ask if he was enjoying her-- but thankfully he moved away before she embarrassed herself, collecting his jacket from where it was slung on the back of his chair and shrouding her in it. It dwarfed her, tailored though it was, and it was still warm and smelled delicious. Was this what she was expected to wear to the office, completely nude but for his jacket?

No, she quickly realized as he explained that the dress up session would wait. She sat where he directed, the cool leather nearly uncomfortable against her bare skin. She felt utterly decadent, almost as though she were some sort of risqué decorative piece in his office, and she couldn't help but glance at the frosted glass wall and wonder what she would do if someone saw her.

"Questions?" she repeated, as though she left her wits folded on Mr. Amir's desk as well. "I... I want to know what Mr. Giovanni likes. What he's like. When will I be meeting him? What if he doesn't show an interest in me?" She folded her hands atop her bare thighs, almost missing the warmth of his palm on her body.
 
He crossed his legs at the knee and leaned back, one arm dangled over the back of the chair, and the other casually draped over the armrest, as if he was reclining in his favorite cigar lounge. He watched her as she sat on the opposite chair, her knees pristine - pressed together as if to retain the semblance of virginity, and her hands folded atop creamy, smooth thighs as if she was attending a proper tea. His eyes slid over her legs, from her bare, innocent feet to the curve of her knee.... he looked at the way her hand covered the dark shadow that led to her womanly valley beneath the protective cover of his jacket, and almost told her to pull the jacket away so that he could see her displayed before him. Something about the way she sheltered herself and sat so modestly was endearing; he decided that he liked looking at her while she was partially clothed. It was like seeing a grand vista flanked by stately cedars instead of open to the barren sky. His jacket was like the frame around her masterpiece.

He smiled at her questions. Always Giovanni. It was good - he hired her to be the bait on his hook, so it was good that she wanted to know more about her mark, but her eagerness almost translated to excitement, and that bit his ego slightly. He raised his dark eyes to her face and noticed on the way that the curve of her breast peaked out behind his lapel, hinting at the lovely, youthful orbs he had just had the pleasure of seeing. Now that they were hidden they echoed with seductive temptation, and he wanted to gaze upon them once again.

"My nephew." He nodded. the fingers in his left hand moved slightly and he turned to look out the window at the city below. The soft clouds drifted lazily in the morning sky, seemingly unaffected by their time constraints or concerns. Amir watched the clouds in silence as he thought over her inquiry.

"My nephew... is a troubled man." He lowered his lashes slightly and then looked over at Sadie. "He seems quiet and polite, even to the point where you may feel a kind of sorrow for him, but he's a killer. Never forget that. He is intelligent. He is well-mannered... cultured... like you are." His eyes grew intense. "He'll recognize that about you. Not at first," he flicked the fingers of his hand up, as if flicking a fly away. "He'll perhaps sense a kind of familiarity with you... but he won't know why he feels that." He shrugged then, a casual gesture that seemed almost dismissive. "It doesn't matter as long as he finds a reason to trust you, or to want you to believe he trusts you."

He cleared his throat then and looked away from her again. The clouds drifted with his next set of thoughts, until he caught them again. "He's charming. You may find yourself becoming attracted to him. Good. If that happens, do not fight it, but never forget who you work for." He shot her a sharp look. "The more genuine you are, the more he will believe you. If you have to 'fall in love' to make him believe this, then do it - but know that eventually it will end. You'll have plenty of money by then; you will be able to start a new life, to fall in love with a new pretty face."

Amir leaned towards her and uncrossed his legs so that his feet were flat on the floor. He rested his forearms on his knees, cupping his hands together almost as if he was about to pray. "Remember this - beauty is fleetiing. You must spend it quickly. Get as much out of it as you can. Money is good, but it can be taken from you. It can get you what you want, though - and that is power. If you have power, whether it is from manipulating someone's heart, or their sensual desires, or their banks... whatever it takes... if you have power, you have everything."
 
Sadie sensed a strange sort of displeasure as Mr. Amir contemplated her question; the slight tension he held between his brows and the subtle frown were sure signs of it. But wouldn't it be good to have some kind of knowledge before walking into the lion's den? She was careful to sit up straight as he spoke, her head tilted slightly to the side as she pretended not to notice where his eyes lingered. All at once she felt unbearably hot beneath the suit jacket that dwarfed her, as though his gaze had the power to burn her.

She couldn't help but feel intrigued as he went on to describe her 'target', and as soon as he mentioned that she might fall in love again, she wanted to reject the idea outright, but held her silence. She had been stupid enough to fall in love once-- and yes, that love had brought her the sweet little girl that waited at home for her-- but she couldn't afford to make the same mistake twice. No matter how charming Giovanni was made out to be, there was no danger. Her heart was hermetically sealed, safe from anyone, but especially an alleged murderer.

It will end. Something about those words chilled her, but she couldn't understand why. They should've brought her comfort-- no matter how deep into this... assignment she got, Mr. Amir would be there to get her out... Isn't that what he meant?

"I understand," she finally said, but she wasn't so sure that she did.

***​

She should've accepted the car. Her bus was late and she foolishly forgot that she had money for a taxi until the damned thing finally pulled up, choking on its own exhaust. In the three years since she had given up the luxurious lifestyle she had been born into she still couldn't get used to the smell of public bus. Cigarettes, old sweat, forgotten food and maybe worse... The one time she had had to take the subway with her mother when she was a child, she remembered the older woman holding a scented handkerchief to her nose, as though the unfiltered air might be too toxic to breathe.

But Evie wouldn't grow up like she did, even with the money that Sadie would hopefully earn from this venture. She wouldn't teach her daughter to look down on those that were born to less fortunate circumstances, to see living breathing people as vermin invading her space. One of the many good things that she tried to remind herself of when the guilt of bringing her child up in poverty. Some things were infinitely more important than wealth.

There was hardly any room to start with when the bus made another stop, and on stepped a heavily pregnant woman, hardly more than a girl really. No one would move from their seat for her, and with her swollen belly, there was barely room for her to stand. One look at the girl made her wince-- her shoes were falling apart with use, and the bag she carried was much to heavy for her to be shouldering. Without thinking, Sadie stood and gave her the seat, escaping the bus in favor of the slightly more fresh air outside. The girl thanked her profusely but Sadie just smiled, a little sadly, in response. Maybe with the money, she could girls like that.... But then, she had to earn it first.

Mr. Amir hadn't been very clear what she was supposed to wear to the office, and Sadie was at a loss. Of all the terrible jobs she'd had since leaving her parents' home, never had she worked in an office, or anywhere without a uniform, really. She had settled on a swishy a-line skirt that tied in the front with a bow, a wrap top that she thought was eye-catching without being overstated, and modest heels. Maybe after her first check in with him, he would refine his instruction on the matter-- she'd had to pick something and she definitely couldn't show up naked.

The 12th floor. She stepped into the elevator of the sleek, modern building and felt like an imposter, trying to remember any instruction that Amir had given her. She was to attract his attention but... deny him? That didn't seem right, but she was being paid either way, wasn't she?

She checked in with the receptionist, her voice meek and a little uncertain. "Hello, I'm Sadie LaPorte." She hoped that her name wouldn't ring a bell-- a runaway girl from a prominent family. "I'm starting here today as an office assistant, um...." She smiled a bit helplessly, hoping that the small thrill of fear that she felt didn't shine through. "Could you show me where I'll be working?"
 
The receptionist looked over the girl standing before her. The clothes, the hair... she was all wrong for the office. The others almost looked in costume, in that their clothing seemed all cut from the same era, with too-bright contrasts and too-perfect creases. It was more like a design office for some Japanese anime fan then an office that boasted real estate rentals all over the nation to super-rich land mongers, and negotiations that would make the acquisition of small nations seem like child's play.

The woman's perfect Barbie lips pursed as her lashes flicked down, checking over her notes for the day. Indeed, a 'Sadie LaPorte' was on the agenda. Her position listed her as 'filing clerk'. Anisa frowned slightly. She hadn't remembered their needing another clerk, yet here she was, in the flesh.

And she was dressed all wrong. Her clothing moved when she did, and she seemed to bring too much energy along with her when she entered the office. In fact, she seemed to radiate a sort of unpretentious 'life' that was a complete one-eighty from the living mannequin personas the other girls in the office sought hard to portray, including Anisa herself. She continued to purse her lips as her lashes dipped down, once again perusing the day's agenda, then up again to assess Sadie. Yes, she was all wrong. "There must be some mistake," she began to protest. Whether she was talking to her ledger or to the girl standing before her was anyone's guess.

Madison strode over from across the room, her height compared to the receptionist was almost surreal, especially given the similarities in their styles of dress and the colors they wore. All across the office it seemed as if the theme was seasonal, and this early Autumn saw colors in burgundy, steel grey, maroon, and golden peach predominant in most of the employees' outfits. The woman drew her breath in sharpy and regarded Sadie much as Anisa had.

"Is this the new girl?" Her voice was sharp. She eyed Sadie as if the girl had shown up wearing cutoff jeans and flip-flops instead of the cute skirt wrap ensemble she was in. "We're going to have to look into using another hiring agency. This is never going to suffice." She looked over Sadie's shoulder, her eyes expectant, but when they returned to the new hire they were filled with narrow-pupiled disappointment. "This is never going to do." She turned her attention back to the receptionist. "Tell the clerk's office I'm borrowing their girl today. They can have her back tomorrow, though," she glanced back at Sadie, "I'm doing them a favor, if you ask me."

"Yes, Ms Blundt." She made a small mark next to Sadie's name. "What about her in-processing?"

"She's a temp. It's all done." Madison gave Sadie the once over, then turned on her heel and started walking towards the back of the lobby, towards a set of glass elevator doors that seemed to jut into an outdoor water feature, half -submerged so that the passengers were standing waist-deep in the heavily stocked pond. Exotic fish swam along the glass, and when the women stepped inside it was evident that the 'outdoors' was really a huge atrium that stretched across the width of the plaza, and continued upwards for several stories before disappearing into the sky.

Madison inserted a key into the console, then turned it twice to the right. The thick doors slid silently shut, and then the lift moved up so quickly that it pushed against their feet before leveling out to a steady climb. The building was twelve stories tall; as they moved past the first five levels they could see that the building thinned, creating patio areas adjacent to the atrium where people in the higher floors could go outside and enjoy the gardens planted upon the rooftops. Some of the gardens had walking paths; others had seating areas and umbrellas, and the people out in the air seemed to be having coffee while engaged in animated conversation. Madison ignored all of it. Even Sadie.

Once the door opened they were on the very top floor, in a semi-open room that opened onto a grand garden complete with helicopter pad... and a Sikorsky S-92 helicopter, that looked more like a little jet with it's windows and sleek paint job. Madison pointed towards a couple of small suitcases and a 'purse' that housed a small living thing. "Get those and follow me," she instructed, before walking with a crisp step towards the helicopter. She waved once at the pilot, who gave her a two-finger salute and started the rotor blades. Inside the pet purse a small yap sounded, and the thing shuddered as if the creature inside was about to come to pieces.

A man in a suit reached for the bags and took them from Sadie as soon as she neared the vehicle, and then nodded for her to follow Madison inside. The interior had a leather couch that lined the far wall, and leather recliners along the other. Wood and gold trimmed tables were placed throughout to allow the passengers to relax in style. One of the chairs had a set of papers on the table before it, indicating that it had been claimed. Madison sat in the opposite recliner, and inclined her head towards the couch.

A moment later he came in.

Giovanni Dashir was a tall man, but lean, with the body of a man who probably fit well in expensive cars and lounging across heirloom furniture. He certainly filled his Italian grey pinstriped slacks and the silk shirt he wore as if he was born to it, and the fact that his shoes probably cost more than a month's wage for most Americans didn't seem out-of-place on him at all. He didn't do anything in particular, but the energy changed when he entered the chamber. The suited man shut the door and latched it, and once Gi was in his chair the rotors began to spin faster as they geared up to lift them all into the sky. At first it seemed as if he, too, would ignore Sadie, but then she caught his eye, and though his reaction was limited momentarily to a small knitting of his brows he glanced at her again. His dark brown eyes narrowed. Turning to Madison, he gestured slightly in Sadie's direction. "What is this? Does she work for me?"

"My apologies, Mr. Dashir. There was a... mix up with the hiring agency."

"We don't 'do' mix ups. How am I going to take this to the meeting?" He looked back at Sadie once again. "We should reschedule."
 
They knew she was an imposter. From the moment she left the safety of the elevator, Sadie could feel every stray eye watching her as she clicked into the office. Every woman she saw looked almost related somehow, even though they didn't share any of the same facial features or hair color or even body type... Until she realized they were all more of less dressed the same, their makeup perfect and somehow vintage in its application, hair perfectly coiffed almost like... Dolls. She wondered if the receptionist even had a pulse. She knew right away that she stood out and wasn't that what Mr. Amir wanted? But she felt like she had made a grave mistake, and she bit the inside of her cheek as she was looked up and down and found lacking.

She tried to ignore the comments they made about the way she dressed, the way they spoke as if she wasn't there. You're not here for them, she reminded herself, but she couldn't deny the sting she felt. Wrong. Thankfully Madison came to her rescue, and she nearly greeted her when she realized that she was supposed to pretend that they had never met. She closed her parted lips and inhaled through her nose, trying to steady herself. It was all just a game. Just an act she had to perform until she was close enough to Giovanni that she could get what she needed from him.

She walked in silence, but her eyes were wide as they took in the incredible architecture of the office. Sadie had come from wealth, but those with old money tended to squirrel it away and live as misers; new money was flashy, extravagant, breathtaking. "Beautiful," she murmured, so quietly that the word hardly traveled beyond her lips. Her hand twitched with the urge to reach out and touch the glass, to follow a friendly koi as it flirted with her in the bright, clear water. Mr. Giovanni liked things to look a certain way, she was realizing, and she wondered if he would care for her, the light pink top and the charcoal skirt... She'd liked the outfit; it reminded her of the ballet lessons she had taken as a girl, but if Madison's and Anisa's reactions were anything to go by, she could be in trouble.

Then the elevator moved and Sadie stumbled back quickly and braced herself against the wall, certain that it would crash through the ceiling like in the story she had read to Evie once, about the eccentric chocolatier. As quickly as she could, she collected herself but she was sure Madison had noticed and disapproved. She tried to shake that sense of not feeling good enough and took in the gorgeous gardens and people talking, enjoying them. She wondered if Giovanni would ever invite her to walk with him... Then she scolded herself for thinking too far ahead. She hadn't even met the man.

She didn't know what she had been expecting-- a cubicle maybe, a small desk somewhere?-- but she had never thought that the elevator would open up to a helicopter pad, or that she would be expected to climb into it without so much as a warning or a word to where they were going. What about Evie...? They wouldn't leave the country, would they? She nearly asked Madison but the woman didn't hesitate a second, stepping onto the aircraft without even bothering to see if Sadie would follow. She handed the bags to the man waiting outside of it and looked at him helplessly until he gestured for her to board too, and she did after considering for a split second to turn around and leave.

Inside was surprisingly spacious, luxurious. She saw that one chair seemed to be already occupied, though no one sat there. With Madison in the opposite chair, she had no other choice but to sit on the sofa that ran the length of the compartment. She smoothed her skirt over her lap and bit her lip to keep questions from escaping-- where were they going? Why?

And then it seemed like the air was sucked out of the small chamber, and a man with a dark, perfectly styled hair and a suit that probably cost more than she had made in the past year stepped inside. It could only be Giovanni. Amir had been right-- he was handsome, but that had been an understatement. He was devastating Sadie's heart skipped a beat before picking up in double time. She followed the perfect curve of the bridge of his nose, the strong hands that gripped the armrest of his chair. If everything went according to plan, she could expect those same hands sliding down her bare back... She shivered. She was getting ahead of herself again.

"What is this?" he asked, as though she were some offensive upholstery, rather than a living, breathing person. Her heart plummeted, and then in spite of herself, she felt more than a bit of righteous indignation at the way that he had addressed her.

"My name is Sadie. There was no mistake. I'm your new filing clerk and I'm more than capable of performing that job and more." Would he laugh at her, like the man at the Toybox had when she knocked all of the tacky merchandise from his desk? She tried to keep her tone grounded and cool, but there was no denying the fire that burned just below the surface.
 
His brows drew together as he considered her. His expression remained perplexed as he turned his attention to Madison. "You brought a filing clerk along with us? What is this? Your resignation letter?"

Madison's mouth opened and closed silently as she tried to fathom the best response.

Before she could react, Giovanni turned his gaze once again to Sadie. "And you... are a filing clerk? Of all the skills you could have, how does knowing how to file assist in what we are doing today? Do you even know what we are doing?" He looked at Madison and pointed to Sadie with a flippant thumb. "Dos she know?"

"No. No Sir. Nothing." She shook her head as if the idea shell-shocked her, and to anyone who didn't know Madison, she would have seemed like a person caught out of her element. "Jaimie quit, and we needed someone to just hold her spot, someone pretty, and smart enough not to do something stupid, and she seemed... well... look at her, Sir. She's got an air to her. She'll be good eye candy, and she's not like the others?" She raised her eyebrows and smiled as if in hope that he'd agree.

His eyes narrowed in response. Instead of blowing up, though, he turned to Sadie and as he considered her he leaned back in his chair as if to stretch back and get a better view. His eyes roamed freely over her as he silently took inventory. Long, tapered fingers danced quietly on the armrest as the air grey heavy with his unspoken thoughts. A few moments later his lips parted. "Sadie, who files... what is this 'and more' that you are capable of doing?"
 
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