The Game

  She was just getting out of bed when the phone rang again. She knew who it was before she picked it up. Not many people had her home number.

  “Tara, darling, how are you?” It was Sergei, as she’d expected.

  “Hi, Sergei. I’m fine. Glad to be home,” she said, gazing out onto the streets of London

  “Good, good. We’ve had feedback from the winner and he seemed very happy with you. Well done.”

  “He was quite a nice guy, actually.”

  “That’s nice,” he said quickly. Tara had the distinct feeling that he didn’t really care whether he had been nice or not.

  “Anyway, I have a bit of a problem. We’ve got a game in L.A. this week and the prize has suddenly become unavailable.”

  Tara was pretty sure she knew where this was heading. “Yes?” she said with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “You’re going to have to fly over and cover it.”

  “Sergei, I’ve just gotten back! We never have to do back to back assignments.”

  “I know, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to fill in this time.”

  “What happened to the other girl?”

  “She lost her way, Tara. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?” The steel in his tone warned her not to pry any further, so she let it go. One of the rules of the Group was that none of the prizes knew each other, or anything about each other. She preferred it that way. In her years with the Group, she had seen a lot of girls just disappear, and she was not naïve enough to believe Sergei had just let them walk away.

  With a sigh she asked. “When do I leave?”

  “You’re booked on a flight out of Heathrow at nine p.m. tonight. Your tickets and hotel information will be delivered by courier later today. Good girl,” he said, as she heard the phone click on the other end.

  She couldn’t get too angry with him. He’d been quite good to her, really, and she’d probably been better off with him than her own mother. At least with him, she hadn’t been passed around to different men on a daily basis. It had been just him. She had been clothed and well looked after, and he hadn’t beaten her. Even when she had become unexpectedly pregnant at fourteen, he hadn’t been angry. And when the baby later died, he had been surprisingly supportive through what had undoubtedly been the worst time of her life. She hadn’t known if she’d wanted to make it through, but she’d somehow come out the other side. After that, what little hope she’d had disappeared forever.

  Resigning herself to another month away, she made herself some breakfast and started packing. The shopping trip would just have to wait.

  Four

  Tonight was the night. Because of the secretive nature of the event, they’d only been given a couple of days’ notice so, once Kyle had called the contact number on the invitation to confirm Luccio’s acceptance, they’d gotten to work. Determined he was going to win, Luccio had enlisted Kyle's help for the next couple of days. He'd lost count of how many hands of poker he'd played, but if that’s what his boss wanted to pay him to do, then that was fine by him.

  He’d been given the location of the event on the phone and now, pulling into the lot, Kyle was nervous. He didn’t like carrying 100k in a briefcase, especially when he didn’t know anything about the people they were going to meet. There were nine other invitees aside from Luccio, which meant there would be a million bucks, in cash, all in one place.

  Luccio didn’t seem at all concerned about it. He had apparently heard of these games from friends, whereas Kyle, moving in a completely different social circle, had never come across them. By all accounts, the “prizes” were incredibly beautiful. They should be, for the money involved, he thought, and felt a moment of shame for being a part of it. Lori would be devastated if she could see what he was doing now. But she couldn’t, and he needed to do what was necessary to earn a living.

  Opening the car door, he gripped the handle of the briefcase tightly and followed Luccio closely. The address they had been given was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. To Kyle, it looked like the perfect place for an ambush, but as they’d pulled up they’d seen several other expensive cars in the parking lot. This had reassured him slightly.

  As they entered the building, he could see a large poker table had been set up in the middle of the ground floor, which was completely empty except for a light hanging down from the ceiling above the table. The room was the complete length of the warehouse and the light did not reach into the corners, leaving them filled with dark shadows. At the table, seven of the ten players were already seated. Kyle was surprised that he recognized a couple of the men. One of them, he knew, was a high profile sports star and the other a popular politician.

  As they approached the table, one of the six very large men standing around the perimeter of the table stepped in front of them and put out his hand.

  “Well, give him the money,” Luccio said.

  Kyle did as he was told and handed the case over. The hired muscle then stepped out of the way and allowed them to approach the table. Nodding acknowledgements to the others around the table, Luccio took his seat. Kyle took up a position a few steps behind him and resigned himself to a long night.

  ***

  Except for a couple of short bathroom breaks, they had been at it for hours, and Kyle’s back was starting to ache from standing in the same position for so long. They were down to the last three players now, so it wouldn’t be much longer. Luccio was one of the three.

  He had to admit, he was curious about the girl. He could understand, to a point, why girls on the street turned to prostitution. Quite often there was a tragic story behind it and, with sickening regularity, it usually involved drugs. But if these girls were as beautiful as Luccio said they were, then they were clearly not in the same situation. There weren’t many beautiful drug users. So what would drive a girl to do this? Whatever the reason, he knew that if his boss won she would have to earn her money, and it would be left to him to pick up the pieces.

  Five

  The flight into L.A. was uneventful, and Tara arrived the night before the Game was scheduled. One of Sergei’s local men had picked her up and driven her to her hotel, where she’d been left to her own devices. She’d traveled all over the world, but L.A. was one of the few places she had never visited and she was quite excited. She had the whole day to herself tomorrow before the Game, and she fully intended to make use of the time and pretend, just for a few hours, that she was a normal tourist. She’d picked up a tourist guide at the airport and spent the evening planning where to go and what to see. The jet lag from two long haul trips within days of each other soon caught up with her, though, and skipping dinner, she decided on an early night.

  She’d set off early the next morning after a good night’s sleep, eager to get going and cram as much into her free day as she could.

  After spending the day visiting the sights, even going to the Griffith Park Observatory to get a photo of the Hollywood sign, it was with some reluctance that she had returned to her hotel to get ready for the evening ahead. She bathed and did her hair and make-up, wrapped in the robe the hotel provided. Satisfied with her efforts, she curled up on the sofa and indulged in some American TV while she waited for the call.

  ***

  It was several hours later when the phone rang, and she was told that it was time. Putting on the dress she had already laid out, she checked herself once more in the mirror before leaving the room, pulling her suitcase behind her. A car was waiting for her outside the hotel and, without a word, she climbed into the back seat.

  Now, she sat in the back of the limousine, watching the final hand on a monitor. As the last player folded, she took a deep breath, put a smile on her face and stepped out of the car to meet the man she was to entertain for the next month. As she walked toward him, she took in the wolfish look in his eye and knew that she was going to earn her money this time.

  “Hi, I’m Tara,” she said, with the best smile she could manage.

>   He actually licked his lips.

  “Well, hello, gorgeous. We’re going to have us some fun.”

  She turned to the man standing slightly behind him and put out her hand.

  “Hi.”

  Kyle was trying not to stare. She was beautiful. The emerald green-wrap around dress she was wearing brought out the jewel-like green of her eyes, and did very little to disguise her fabulous figure. Her waist was tiny, which made her breasts appear even more voluptuous. Her black hair hung to her waist and shimmered as she moved.

  It was her eyes, though, that held his attention. As she looked at him, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, there was more to this woman than the exterior she was showing to the world. Surprised by his own reaction, he put his hands in his pockets, ignoring her hand, and gruffly replied, “Hey.” Taken aback, she lowered her hand to her side.

  Laughing, Luccio said, “This is my head of security, Kyle. Don’t mind him. He’s not good in social situations.” Tara’s smile seemed forced as she turned her attention back to him. "Shall we go?" Nodding, she took his arm and followed him to the waiting car.

  On the drive back to the house, Kyle couldn’t stop looking at her in the rear-view mirror. She was stunning, yes, but there was something about her that had made him react like a teenager at a school dance. All that standing around had obviously affected his brain and not just his back. This woman was a paid professional who was going to spend the next month entertaining his boss. Turning his attention back to the road, he consciously avoided looking in the rear-view mirror again for the rest of the drive.

  Six

  Kyle carried her bags into the house and disappeared upstairs while Luccio led her into the living room. “You have a lovely home,” she said to him, looking around and taking in her surroundings.

  “Thank you. Why don’t you take a seat? Would you like a drink?” he offered.

  Tara nodded. “So, what is it that you do?”

  Luccio waved his hand in the air. “Oh, you know, this and that. Mostly import and export.”

  She watched Luccio as he poured her a glass of wine. He seemed nice enough. If not handsome, he wasn’t bad looking. It looked like he kept himself quite fit judging by this trim figure, which was well-proportioned on his 5’ 10” frame. Handing her a glass of white wine, he sat down next to her. As she sipped her wine, he put one arm along the back of the sofa behind her and rested his other hand on her knee. She wasn’t surprised. They didn’t usually waste much time. “So, you’re mine for a month. What am I going to do with you?”

  She smiled, playing the game. “That’s entirely up to you."

  Taking his hand from her knee, he reached up and pushed the front of her dress open, displaying her left breast. Taking it in his hand, he squeezed, gently at first, and then harder. "Nice tits,” he said, taking her left breast in his other hand. "Does that feel good?" he asked, as he rubbed her nipples with his thumbs.

  "Oh, yes,” she heard herself say.

  "Now, stand up and show me the rest of what I’ve won."

  Tara did as she was told. She’d been doing this too long now to be shy. She’d found it hard at first, but now it was almost second nature, and she could almost pretend it was happening to someone else.

  Seven

  The next morning, Luccio left early, telling her he had some business to take care of in town. As soon as she heard the car drive off, she got out of bed and went in search of something to put on a bite wound he had given her the night before. It had been a while, but it wasn’t the first time a winner had gotten too rough. She didn’t suppose it would be the last.

  Checking all the cupboards in the bathroom, she couldn’t find anything that would do the trick so, quickly getting dressed in blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt, she made her way downstairs.

  She hadn’t had time to explore the house when she’d arrived last night, so it was by trial and error that she made it to the kitchen. It was an enormous room, with windows on two sides and sliding doors out to a deck. The kitchen itself looked like something straight out of a magazine. The cabinets were a glossy white and the appliances brushed steel. The effect was very stark and cold.

  She was looking through the cupboards when a voice made her jump. "Can I help you?" Feeling like she had been caught doing something wrong, she turned to face the source of the voice. It was the man she’d met last night. "Hi. Sorry, I was looking for some antiseptic. There wasn’t any in the bathroom."

  "Well, you won’t find any in there. I’ve got a first aid kit at my place. I think it has some in it." He turned and headed out through the sliding doors.

  Standing there, Tara was not sure what to do. Was she supposed to follow him, or was he going to get it? Jeez, trust her to get stuck in a house with Mr. Personality. She decided to follow him. It would be good to get an idea of the layout of the place, anyway. She struggled to keep up as he strode across the lawn toward what looked like a guesthouse.

  "Is this your place?" she asked him as they drew nearer.

  "Yeah."

  "Looks nice."

  "Mmmm."

  Opening the door, he told her to take a seat. "I’ll go and get the kit."

  Sitting alone in the living room, Tara looked around and took it all in. It was sparsely furnished, with just a couch, coffee table and a small television in the corner. There was nothing that gave away anything about the man who lived there, nothing personal, except a solitary framed photo on the coffee table. Picking it up, she saw that it was a photo of Kyle with his arm around a petite blonde woman. They were standing outdoors somewhere with the ocean behind them, and were looking at each other, smiling broadly. They looked happy. Feeling guilty for prying, she put the frame back on the table, folded her hands in her lap, and waited for him to return.

  ***

  Kyle returned with the first aid kit from his bathroom and laid it on his bed to open it. Kyle had no idea what was wrong with him. Why was he behaving like such an ass? Strangely, she looked better now than she had last night, despite having no make-up on and being dressed casually. She seemed more approachable, less perfect. He had wanted to ask her if she was okay, what she needed the cream for, but it was none of his business. He had been checking the grounds last night when he’d walked past the living room. He had seen what was happening. Not wanting to intrude, he had quickly walked on, but he had seen enough to know that Luccio was being his usual charming self. It didn’t require a lot of imagination to know what the cream was for but, he told himself it was her job, she knew what she was doing. That thought provided little comfort, though. For some reason, it bothered him a lot more than usual, and he had no idea why.

  Finding what he was looking for, he took it to Tara. “Here, this should help,” he said, handing her the tube. Unintentionally, his fingers brushed against hers as she reached for it and, as they touched, he felt something pass through him. Raising his eyes to hers, he saw his shock reflected in her eyes. Momentarily at a loss for words, he quickly pulled himself together. I’ve got to get her out of here. “You’d better go. Luccio wouldn’t like it if he found you here.”

  “Of course. Thank you for the cream.”

  Kyle watched her leave, confused by his own reaction. He’d never even had a proper conversation with this woman, so why was he feeling pulled towards her so strongly? Whatever the reason, he needed to forget about it. Working for Luccio, he knew full well that his health would suffer if he didn’t.

  ***

  Taking the cream, Tara quickly left without another word and, almost at a run, went back to the main house. Going straight up to Luccio’s room, she didn’t stop until she closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned against it. Her head was spinning. What was that? She had never felt anything like it. That small touch had left her feeling as if every nerve in her body was electrified. And when he had looked at her, oh, God, it was as if he could see straight through her, and she had been exposed.

  Shaken, she removed her t-shirt and applied the
cream to the bite on her shoulder, wincing as it stung. Pull yourself together, girl, she told herself. She was here for a month, and it was going to be a very long one if she let Kyle get under her skin. What would be the point anyway? At the end of this assignment, she would go back to London and on to the next job. There were strict instructions on what you could and couldn’t do when staying with a client, and seducing the help was a definite no-no. Nothing good would come of it, and she knew better than to cross Sergei. She would stick to the rules. She knew the consequences if she didn’t.

  Eight

  He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. It had been several days since she had come to the guest house, and since then, though he had seen her around the house, she had studiously avoided him. That was fine with him. He didn’t need any complications, and it just reinforced his view that she was a professional. What he thought he had felt between them was obviously in his imagination. Maybe it had been so long since he had had any kind of emotional intimacy that he was seeing it in places where it simply did not exist. No problem. He had a rare night off tonight, and he was going into town. What he needed was some uncomplicated female company.

  The bar was a typical sports bar, with TV’s mounted on the walls showing the various sports games that were currently being played. Sitting at the bar, he ordered a beer. The cold liquid trickling down his throat tasted like liquid nectar. He really needed this. It took several beers to achieve the desired effect, but soon, he was feeling a lot more relaxed. He looked around the bar that he hadn’t paid attention to when he first walked in and noticed that it had gotten a lot busier since he first arrived. Underlying the noise from the TV screens, he could hear a thumping and, following the sound, he found himself in another room, which had music playing and a dance floor. Kyle didn’t dance, unless the funky chicken was considered dancing. But he had no aversion to watching. Especially if the people were half-naked women in their early twenties, which seemed to be the case here.