Chapter 7 | Code Red-1
872 Words
Chapter 7 Code Red
Rachel looked at him blankly for a long time. “Oh,” she said.
“If you're not comfortable with it,” Mason said. “I understand.” The corner of his mouth curled up in a grin. Maybe he just got her to change her mind, after all.
A bright smile spread on her face. “Oh Mason, that's even better!”
“I beg your pardon?”
She clasped her hands together. “I've always wanted to do a threesome.”
He felt his throat go dry. “You have?”
“Absolutely.” She leaned forward, giving him another good look at her cleavage. “Is she beautiful?” she said, her voice dropping down to a whisper.
“Who?”
“The girl, of course. The one who will be joining us in bed.”
“Right. Yes.” He took a long drink of water. Wasn't it twenty minutes yet? Where the hell was Jake and that code red?
“Will you be watching me and your friend make out, Mason?”
He almost choked on his water.
“Are you okay?” Rachel said, her eyes wide with concern.
“Fine.” He pressed his napkin on his mouth as he tried to clear his throat. He raised his other hand to call their waiter.
“Another martini,” he told the server. “What is it?” he asked, seeing the apologetic look in the man's eyes.
“I'm terribly sorry to bother you,” said the server to both of them. “It's your assistant on the phone, Mr. Kilborne. He says he needs to talk to you. It's very urgent.”
Ah finally!
“Thank you.” He stood up. “I'm sorry, Rachel. I must take this call.”
“Hurry back, babe.”
When he got to the reception desk, Mason was handed a wireless phone.
“What the hell took you so long?” he said.
“Sorry, sir,” Jake said. “You did say twenty minutes.”
“Did you make the arrangements with the hotel?”
“Yes, sir. You have a reservation at the presidential suite. As I understand, they're moving the current guests to another suite as we speak, but the hotel assured me it won't take very long.”
"Good. Pack me an overnight suitcase and be sure to bring it here by nine. Have the hotel staff bring it directly to my room." Mason paused, thinking. "One more thing."
“Sir?”
“I'll need some cash.” How much did escorts charge, exactly? He hadn't the slightest idea. “Uhm, ten grand. Take it from the safe downstairs, pack it in the suitcase.”
“Got it. Anything else, sir?”
“Jake, how much do... Never mind,” he added hastily. On second thought, he probably shouldn't ask his assistant how much to pay an escort. “That's all.”
He hung up and returned the phone to reception.
When he got back to Rachel, she was sitting with her chin resting on one hand. “I was beginning to get lonely,” she said.
He walked over to her side of the table and leaned down to speak to her, one hand on the back of her chair. “Rachel, my apologies,” he said. “But something's come up at work. I have to go.”
“What?” Her face fell.
“I'm sorry.” He covered her hand with his. “Please finish your meal. Order anything you want.”
She grasped his hand. “Call me?”
“Of course, I—”
She kissed him. Hard. Her hand moved up to the back of his neck and pulled him closer as her tongue pushed persistently into his mouth.
He could taste oranges and wine on her lips. She was sweet and fragrant. And breathless with desire.
“Mmmm... right,” he gasped as he pulled away as gently and respectfully as he could. “I, uh, had a lovely evening. I will call you.”
“Promise?” Rachel pouted. “You're not gonna break my heart, are you?”
Mason smiled and patted her hand. He felt another twinge of guilt, but he managed to extricate himself from her arms and walk out of the restaurant.
He couldn't help throw a glance at Ines when he passed her table.
She looked up from her meal and gave him a little smile.
#
* * * *
“Friend of yours?” John said, seeing Ines smile at Kilborne.
Ines shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “He works in film.”
“Actor? I'm sorry, I didn't get to see his face.”
“He's a producer.” Not that Kilborne didn't have the looks to be in front of the camera. Or the body. He was in terrific shape. And tall. It was almost as if he was too perfect—
“Ines?”
“Huh?” She covered her mouth with her fingers. “I'm so sorry, John, I was...” She shook her head. “Never mind. You were saying?”
“I was just wondering if you ever dreamed of being an actress yourself.”
She laughed. “Oh God no.”
Mason sat on the sofa, remote control in hand as he clicked through all the channels on the television. Shite, all of them. A thousand channels and not a single thing he could stand to watch.
Where the b****y hell was the girl? It was fifteen past nine, and Ines still hadn't shown up. He'd been waiting in his suite for the past forty-five minutes.
With a sigh of frustration, he paused his channel surfing on the BBC news channel. He picked up the wireless phone on the table beside the sofa and dialed reception.
“Good evening, Mr. Kilborne,” said a velvety female voice. “I'm Imani Smith from guest relations. How may we be of service?”
“Yes. I'm expecting a guest tonight.”
“Yes, sir. You've given us her name. And a description. She hasn't come by the reception desk yet.”
“Well, just ...” He paused. “Just send her up directly.”
“Certainly, sir.”
* * *
- Writer
