Chapter 7 #2
God, every inch of him is mesmerizing, and I stay frozen to the spot, completely caught in his spell as his scent washes over me—it’s heady, deep and dark, like sandalwood and leather.
I force myself not to shiver, though goosebumps break out over my arms at the charge in the air that seems to crackle between us.
Mr. Langford opens his mouth as if to speak, but then drops my hand and turns without a word.
The abruptness of the movement shocks me, and it takes me a few seconds to shake away the fog hanging over my mind, before I’m able to force my feet to carry me forward to catch up.
What was that? Did that really just happen? If I didn’t feel like a crazy person even thinking it, I would have sworn Mr. Langford seemed as affected by me as I am by him. But that can’t be right. This is work, I remind myself. Work, and nothing more.
The bouncers move the rope aside as soon as Mr. Langford reaches the entrance and we are ushered inside. Hypnotic streams of light dancing through the darkness greet us as we enter, along with the thumping bass that pulses through the massive space of the club.
“The team is upstairs,” Matthew calls over the music.
Mr. Langford and the security guard start walking toward the stairs, and Matthew and I follow.
We skirt along the edge of the crowded dance floor as best we can, but I’m bumped and jostled as I walk, and it’s difficult to keep up.
Soon, I can barely make out Matthew and Mr. Langford ahead of me.
I call out Matthew’s name, but he doesn’t hear me.
“Dance with me.” A man appears out of nowhere, tugging on my arm.
“No, thanks!” I shout over the music, pulling away. “Matthew!” I yell, louder. He still doesn’t hear me. I see him and Mr. Langford begin to climb the stairs to the upper floor where the private booths are. Matthew turns back as if to talk to me, then sees I’m not behind him.
I jump up and down and wave my arms above my head, frantically. He spots me, then tugs on Mr. Langford’s arm and says something to him. Mr. Langford then turns and spots me still down on the floor. They both head back down the stairs, and I try to push my way through the writhing bodies.
Another man grabs at me, insisting I dance with him. I pull away, but he holds on tighter than the first man did.
“Come on, baby!” the man shouts over the music, clearly drunk. “I’ve gotta have a dance with you!”
“No, thanks!” I pull my arm, but he still holds on, keeping it firmly in his grasp.
“Get the fuck off her,” Mr. Langford says, ripping the man’s hand away. The man looks like he’s going to respond, but the look of death Mr. Langford gives him sends him scurrying away.
Mr. Langford reaches his hand out for mine, and I take it.
He pulls me close behind him and nods for Matthew to take up the rear.
We make our way, much easier now in my case, through the crowded bodies and up the stairs.
When we reach the top, I expect Mr. Langford to drop my hand, but he doesn’t.
He holds tight until we reach the booth where the team is waiting.
Their eyes all track to our hands, and Emily looks up at me, her eyes wide.
Well, shit.
How do I casually explain this?
“Ella, why don’t you come sit down by me,” Emily says, pointedly.
“Hang on,” Mr. Langford says. “First thing’s first. Which one of you is Craig?”
Craig perks up, practically buzzing in his seat, eager to be singled out by Mr. Langford. “Me, sir.”
“You’re fired.”
Craig’s eyes bulge with shock. His previous excitement fizzles quickly and he deflates, sinking low in his chair. His mouth opens and closes, spluttering for a second before he finally finds words. “What? Why?”
“I had the privilege of listening to your conversation with Ms. Hale in the car on the way here. Your unprofessionalism and incompetence are glaringly obvious, and I don’t accept employees who are both unprofessional and incompetent.
Leave, now, or I’ll have you removed. You may come to clear out your things tomorrow, but then you’re not to be anywhere in my building again. ”
The atmosphere stills, and everyone sits frozen, eyes wide. Then, one by one, they all turn to look at me. Craig sneers and shoots to his feet.
“You fucking bitch! What did you do?”
Mr. Langford pulls me behind him, out of Craig’s sight, then holds out his other hand against Craig’s chest, keeping him at bay. A second later, the security guard moves in and pulls Craig away from Mr. Langford.
“Say one more word, and you’ll regret it. I promise you that.” Mr. Langford’s voice is low and menacing. A moment later, Craig pushes past us in a huff and heads toward the stairs.
Mr. Langford lets go of my hand, and I move toward the table.
The others quickly scoot to make room, still shocked and wide-eyed.
Matthew moves into the booth before me, then Mr. Langford moves in behind me.
I’m buffered between them again, and the rest of the table tries to act casual, as if a coworker wasn’t just fired in the club out of nowhere, and I hadn’t walked up holding Mr. Langford’s hand.
“Is there anything else, Mr. Langford?” Emily asks, uncharacteristically timid. “Or should we begin?”
“Go ahead.”
“Yes, well. A few reminders as we are searching.” She’s careful with her words as she speaks.
We’ve all been reminded on several occasions that while out in public we must watch what we say, for fear of being overheard.
“Age must be at least late twenties, some of the options you sent me from the gyms were far too young. And a respectable career is a must. Please use your best judgment to weed out any who seem to be eager to social climb. We may have to resort to that if we can’t find someone tonight, but it isn’t ideal.
Do you have any other particular preferences?
” she asks Mr. Langford. “Blond? Brunette? Height? Anything that is an absolute no for you?”
Mr. Langford looks uncomfortable. He lets out a long breath, as if defeated.
“No. No preference. Just someone . . . who the public will accept. And who will agree to all my terms.”