27 - Jocelyn
~ 27 ~
JOCELYN
You’re an idiot, Jocelyn.
The nagging voice in the back of my mind didn’t cheer me up, or straighten me out, or provide any kind of new revelation as I stomped my way back to my room. And that’s because I knew the voice was right.
You’re an idiot who’s in way over her head.
It’d been so foolish of me to come back. Even before I found out what the boys were actually up to, it had been childish and selfish to return to the manor, unannounced. I should’ve taken the hint, in how fast they got me out of there the day of the storm. I should’ve slept on the floor of the airport, rather than overstay my welcome.
Instead, I’d inserted myself first accidentally and then willingly into a very dangerous situation. Everything was different. I wasn’t even Jocelyn anymore, for fuck’s sake. I was ‘Emily’ the server, forced to grin and bear it as that whore in the pool threw herself at Kayden, laughing like a hyena the whole time.
At one point Evelyn turned her head and caught a glimpse of me, standing there at the glass. I know she saw me too, because she flung herself into Kayden’s arms almost immediately. My stomach turned as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, the same way I had only days ago. I’d been forced to watch as she put her lips against his ear and whispered something as they floated together, while her eyes remained locked on me.
That. Fucking. Bitch.
I’d only barely listened to Andre’s last-minute instructions, which he’d already given to the other servers. I was still numb as he handed me my uniform, pressed a keycard into my hand, and told me to return in about an hour.
My room felt cold and empty as I flopped on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. What did I expect, really? That Kayden was somehow mine? That because we’d spent the past week in bed together, that I’d somehow laid claim to him?
Stupid.
My jealousy made zero sense when you actually thought about it. Especially when you considered Kayden showed almost no jealousy at all, other than competitive spirit, when I was fucking his friends right in front of him. If anything, he’d gotten a serious thrill out of what we’d done. We all had. And maybe that’s why it felt so greedy, to still want to possess him. Somehow I felt entitled to him exclusively, all to myself, and this strange new woman could fuck right off.
Maybe he was really just using her, as the others said. Maybe it was only—
“Oh shit!”
A look at the time forced me to shower quickly and get changed. I slipped on my server’s uniform, which was really nothing more than an elegant, tight-fitting black dress and a pair of expensive-looking shoes. The outfit was borderline sexy, actually. Judging from the fact that all the servers were women, and the VIPs were men, I shouldn’t have been surprised.
I stepped out of my room and found the hall empty in both directions. In a flash of alarm, I wondered if I was late. Andre had given me an itinerary; one that Raif himself had approved after ‘several revisions’. I was starting to realize that everything was being run with military precision. I had to be in the right place at the right time, or else.
I picked up the pace until I was practically running, flying through the upstairs hallways, turning blind corners and—
“Unngff!”
I slammed full-speed into another body, which was much bigger and thicker than mine. As I bounced backward and fell, a hand reached out deftly and closed over my wrist. A strong arm pulled me back to my feet, just mere inches before I would’ve hit the floor.
“Whoa!” a deep voice cried out. The hand still holding my wrist steadied me, then relaxed. “Are you okay?”
I pulled my hair back, and found myself staring at a man in an impeccably-tailored, button-down shirt. He was big, broad, and powerful, with an expression that was both frightening yet thrilling at the same time.
“I—I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I guess I was—”
“Running like the devil was chasing you?”
For some reason, I looked everywhere but into his eyes. The man had a full head of jet-black hair, pulled back into a tight ponytail that reminded me of the old Steven Seagal movies my brother used to make me watch, back when Jason was on a martial arts kick.
“Something like that,” I managed to finally answer. The man was blocking my way. Not intentionally, but he stood between where I was and where I needed to go. “I’m sort of late for—”
“What’s your name?”
The voice was friendly, but also strangely commanding. It also left no room for refusal, or debate.
“Emily.”
“Emily what?”
My pulse was already racing with the prospect of being late. Now, it jumped to almost double time.
“Emily Langone.”
I tried not to look stunned. In a panic, grasping for a quick lie, I’d given him my real last name!
“Ah, French,” the man smiled. “Normandy region, right?”
“Actually, yes.”
He smiled, and his smile was deceptively warm. The warmth meant nothing, however, when I finally saw his eyes.
Holy FUCK.
His eyes were so dark they seemed black; liquid pupils blending with near-obsidian irises. If Raif was dangerous, this man was straight up lethal. His eyes told me this without telling me. They exuded a dark charisma that lured people in, but they also dared anyone to defy him.
This man, I knew, was one of the Founders.
“Where are you from, Emily?”
“The States,” I said needlessly. When he raised an eyebrow, I added: “New Hampshire.”
“Hmmm. A New England girl.”
I nodded silently.
“Well you’re a long way from home,” the man noted. “How’d you end up all the way out here, Emily Langone?”
I could’ve lied, but those eyes were studying me carefully. Just as I knew they studied everyone this man met, for better or for worse.
“Originally I came here on vacation,” I told him, “and got stuck when my return flight got canceled. I got talked into staying an extra week. One week became two, two became four, and the next thing I knew…” I shrugged.
“So Greece sucked you in,” the man theorized.
“I guess so, yes.”
The best lies, I’d learned long ago, were ninety-percent truth. Rather than make up a story from scratch, it was easier to stretch the boundaries of what actually happened.
And that was a good thing, because this was the type of man who’d stayed alive this long by knowing when someone was lying, and when someone was telling the truth. He regarded me carefully, but I’d answered so quickly and with such conviction he detected no falsehood.
“If you don’t mind,” I entreated, I’m already late for where I need to be.”
“No you’re not.”
He was done testing me, I could tell. But now he was looking me over in a much more familiar way: the way a man looks at a woman in a tight black dress.
“Tell that to Raif,” I rebutted, “when he’s done chewing me out.”
“Yes, well you tell Raif or Evelyn or anyone else you work for that Victor said you’re not late,” the man countered firmly. “You tell them you were with me. Understand?”
I nodded, numbly. He was still blocking the hallway when he reached up to touch my arm, smoothing my shoulder with one big palm.
“Sorry I almost knocked you down, Emily from New Hampshire,” he smiled. “But it’s very nice to meet you."
He extended his hand, and reflexively I shook it. His palm was so hot it felt like it was on fire.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I smiled back weakly.
“Maybe we’ll talk again soon,” he said. “One of these nights when we both have more time, and you’re not running full tilt through the hallways.”
“That would be nice.”
With that he turned sideways, allowing me to move past him. I gave him my back and brushed against him as I slipped by, but only because there wasn’t enough room. It left me wondering if he was simply a big guy in a small hallway, or if he’d intentionally left just enough space that our bodies would have to touch.
Either way, I had cold shivers all the way down to the kitchen.