Chapter 9
Something Wicked
It’s a feeling
During our break between practicums, I glance at all the hors d’oeuvres that have been laid out for us this week.
Based on the selection before me, I’m certain of where we are headed this next auction.
I pick up a breaded teardrop-shaped appetizer made of mashed potato and filled with stewed meat and cheese.
I then placed several thin pieces of fire-roasted beef that has been sliced from a standing skewer.
Grabbing the savory pastry topped with spiced avocado which is filled with chicken and a delicious creamy cheese, I then set the final item on my plate, a small bowl of frozen acai berry puree topped with granola and fresh fruit.
Sitting down next to Amethyst and Tamara, I smile when Michelle walks up to join us with her plate piled high. “Have you noticed how the hors d’oeuvres change each week?”
Michelle grins as she sets down her plate. “I sure have! It’s like an adventure every week. The chefs are amazing here.”
“Yes, they are,” I agree.
Tamara cuts a piece of meat, stabbing it with her fork and staring at it. “I wonder why they keep changing the menu.”
Amethyst nods. “I’ve been wondering the same thing.”
“Well, I’ve figured it out,” I announce to them all.
“Then tell us already,” Tamara insists.
Looking down at my plate, I explain to her, “Each week, the chefs give us hints to our destination based on the appetizers they choose.”
Michelle gives me an incredulous look. “You’re kidding!”
Enjoying her reaction, I continue, “I noticed it right away, but I’ve been wrong with both of my guesses so far. Still, I’m certain I know where we’re headed this week.”
Amethyst leans in with interest. “So where are we going?”
I grin when I tell her, “I’d hate to spoil the surprise.”
Tamara rolls her eyes. “Meaning you don’t know.”
“But I do,” I state confidently. “I’m so sure, in fact, that I will write it on a piece of paper and give it to you to read out loud before we land.”
Instead of sharing in my excitement, Amethyst frowns. “I would hate for you to humiliate yourself in front of everyone again.”
“Yeah, there’s no reason to set yourself up like that,” Tamara agrees.
I cringe inside, realizing they’re referring to that time I insisted that Socrates was blind.
Even though I’m aching to tell them I was right, I let it pass because of my promise to Headmaster Wallace.
Still…I hold onto the hope that if I prove I’m right about this, they might start believing I was right about Socrates as well.
My confidence unshaken, I joke, “You know what they say, ‘Go big or go home’.”
I catch Nash glaring at me from across the room. Seriously, if looks could kill, I’d be dead instantly. Since he continues to insist that I’m getting special treatment because I’m in a secret relationship with the Headmaster, I suspect the poor guy is still fuming about my practicum last night.
But I don’t care what he thinks.
The only special treatment I’ve gotten has been from Anton.
He’s the whole reason I even joined the Submissive Training Center.
While it’s true that Anton offered to pay for the course in exchange for piano lessons, and even asked his good friend to come to the Training Center to guide me through a bondage session, that’s not on me…
I suddenly feel a pit in my stomach. I’ve been so caught up in everything that’s happened this week that I failed to thank Anton!
A simple text isn’t appropriate after everything he’s done. Knowing our time will be short when I see him Friday night for our piano lesson, I hurry home after class, pick out my fanciest stationery, and sit down at the kitchen table to pour out my gratitude on paper.
Dear Anton,
Humorously, I thought that Master Navarro was the man you meant when I received your message at the last auction. So you can imagine my surprise when I was called out of class to meet with Tono Nosaka, a Kinbaku master. The moment I saw the rope clutched in his hand, I was worried.
But he was gentle and patient, and proved to be the perfect Master to introduce me to the jute. During our long session, I confronted parts of my past I never had before. I left feeling that some of the pain I was carrying was excised. I would like to talk about it with you sometime.
It’s important to me to formally thank you, and I hope someday I can repay you for your many kindnesses.
Forever in your debt,
Sophie
The next morning I wake up with an uneasy feeling that something is wrong.
Since I have no idea where it’s coming from or what it’s about, I call Gwen, worried that Helen Fontaine might be on the warpath again.
“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” Gwen teases me when she answers. “It feels like ages since I’ve heard from you.”
I roll my eyes. “You must be forgetting about our coffee date last Sunday.”
“Exactly! It’s been almost a week since then, Soph, and no word from you? By now, I normally get a call telling me about some crazy scene you had at the Training Center or a complaint about Beefcake at least.”
I cringe, realizing she’s probably right. “You do realize phone calls go both ways, woman.”
“Whatever…”
“Actually, I have had a crazy week, but for all the right reasons.” I quickly catch her up on my adventures at the Training Center, sharing all the juicy details until I come to my scene with Headmaster Wallace.
Although it’s only natural that I would scene with him at some point during the course, I know Gwen has the hots for the guy.
I would hate for anything to come between us, so rather than navigate that sticky situation, I choose not to mention it at all.
I feel a tinge of guilt about it, but I’m happy when our chat ends on a positive note and promise to meet for coffee this coming Sunday.
However, I still feel like something is wrong. Next, I call my oldest brother to make sure the family is okay. When he assures me that everyone is doing well, I dismiss the feeling altogether and head out to teach my first piano lesson.
I figure I’m probably just wound up from the night before, but that uneasy feeling only intensifies throughout the day, leaving me anxious by the time I reach my student Clara’s house. When Mr. Branson greets me at the door, looking distraught, I’m afraid I’ve found my answer.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, fearing the worst.
He clears his throat nervously and steps out of the house, shutting the door behind him before turning to me. “Clara has been put on bed rest, Miss Lane.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious!” I cry.
He avoids looking me in the eye when he explains, “I would have called to cancel, but we’ve only just come back from the doctor.”
“Is Clara going to be okay?”
Mr. Branson lets out a long sigh. “We have to wait for test results.”
Not wanting to pry, I reach out and clasp his hand. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He stares at my hand for a moment, then looks at me with tears in his eyes. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”
I can see that he’s scared and, on impulse, I wrap my arms around him. “Please let me know if Clara needs anything. I’m happy to help.”
Mr. Branson stiffens in my arms but doesn’t pull away. Several moments later, he puts his arms around me and lets out a painful gasp.
“It’ll be okay,” I assure him, unwilling to accept that anything could be wrong with his little girl.
The two of us stand there for several minutes before he finally pulls away and mutters gruffly. “Yes, she will be okay.”
I can see that he’s unwilling to talk about it, so I turn to leave. But as I’m walking away, he calls out, “I’ll keep paying for her lessons so Clara doesn’t lose her spot.”
I turn and look at him in disbelief. “Clara is my favorite student, Mr. Branson. I wouldn’t let anyone take her spot, and I certainly won’t take your money until she’s ready for her lessons again.”
He nods, looking as if he wants to say something more, but then turns and walks back inside the house and shuts the door.
I glance up to see Clara peeking out of her bedroom window. I wave at her and smile, trusting that everything is going to be okay.
Certain that is what has been haunting me all day, I head to the Luxe Escape, hoping to spend extra time with Anton before our lesson begins.
As I stride up to the front desk, Chase flashes me a smile. “I’m surprised to see you this early, Miss Lane.”
“I had an unexpected gap in my schedule and wanted to see if Anton is free.”
“I’d be happy to check for you,” he replies, picking up the phone. After several moments, he frowns and mutters, “That’s odd.”
Pursing his lips, he types something on his keyboard and says, “Let me try a different number.”
This time someone picks up, but when Chase asks to speak with Anton, a short one-sided conversation follows that I can’t hear. Chase suddenly frowns. Setting the phone back down slowly, he looks up at me. “I’m sorry, he is unavailable.”
“That’s okay,” I assure him. “He wasn’t expecting me this early anyway.”
Chase gives me a sympathetic look. “He’s not here, Miss Lane.”
I tilt my head, confused. “But…we have a piano lesson tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Lane.”
I sigh. Last week, Anton missed the auction, and now our piano lesson?
Struggling to hide my disappointment, I pull out the letter from my purse. “Would you please see that he gets this when he arrives? It’s important.”
Chase looks at me apologetically. “Mr. Durov isn’t coming.”
“At all?”
He only nods in sympathy.
That ominous feeling that I had before returns with a vengeance. “It isn’t like Anton to miss a lesson…” I mutter, pulling out my phone to check if he’s left any messages that I may have missed.
A man behind me clicks his tongue, irritated at having to wait.
Pleading with Chase, I ask, “Could you call him back so I can speak to Anton myself?”
“I wasn’t able to reach him, Miss Lane. I was speaking to Maxim.”
Knowing that he was speaking to Anton’s bodyguard make me even more fearful and I lean in, whispering, “Does Maxim know where he is?”
The moment I see Chase shake his head slightly, a feeling of dread creeps up my spine.
Something terrible has happened to Anton.