Penthouse of pleasure - uncertain desire (German Edition) (12 page)

It’s unbelievable that it’s only been a few days since I innocently slept in this guestroom, I think as I enter.

During my first visit to this apartment I would never have imagined that I’d actually move in. So much has happened since, it feels more like several months than days.

Just like the rest of the place, the guestroom is also very elegantly furnished. The floor is dark timber, the walls painted in pastel shades and the king-size bed looks very inviting.

Breathing heavily, I maneuver the first box across the room and deposit it in front of the large white closet. Phew! That was heavy.

They guys should really have helped me, I think. But apparently not one of them had thought about it.

Men! I’m living under the same roof with three strong exponents of the species and I still have to do the heavy lifting myself! I pull the hair back from my face and take a deep breath.

Right. Let’s go. Next box!

In passing, I glance at the guest bed.

What’s that?

There’s a black envelope’s lying on the white bedspread.

Kate

It says in a very distinctive man’s handwriting. What can it be? A welcome note?

Curious, I open the envelope to extract expensive looking hand-made paper. Whoever wrote on it, perfumed it as well. I get a slight cent of cedar wood mixed with suede. Very masculine and very sexy.

I eagerly unfold the letter. 

Kate,

I’m very glad that you’re now living here.

Liam and Marcus have presumably convinced you that it’s worthwhile spending time with us. I also want to offer you an unforgettable experience and ask you to have lunch with me today. The chauffeur will collect you at 1 o’clock.

I’m looking forward it.

Alex

My hands trembling, I refold the letter. Of course it would have been too easy to spend the day by myself and not seeing Alex until this evening.

I remember Liam’s words over breakfast. He said that he couldn’t imagine Alex would want to miss spending the day with me.

Presumably he was right. But lunch sounds pretty harmless.

So why am I so excited?

Probably because I know it won’t simply be lunch. Those boys are extremely unpredictable. I already learned that in the short time with Liam and Marcus. It’s highly likely that Alex is made of the same stuff. I liked him right from the start, but I actually know next to nothing about him. And that’s exactly what makes my pulse race and what turns me on the most – the uncertainty of not knowing what to expect and the guys‘ incredible inventiveness. Nothing is normal with them.

Perhaps I should prepare myself a little and see what a Google search will reveal about Alex. Trying the same with Liam didn’t yield much. Maybe I’ll be luckier with Alex.

I decide to postpone unpacking my stuff. Before one o’clock, I still have more than three hours to do some research.

When I signed the contract I agreed to the confidentiality clause, but nowhere did it mention that I couldn’t look for information. Okay, Liam asked me not to ask any more questions, but hey, I’m not asking him but the Internet.

Nobody can forbid me to try and find out more about the guys. There are quite a few things I desperately want to know. The worst that can happen is that they want to get rid of me again. Which would simply mean I’d be back to square one, in the same situation I was in a few days ago when Andrew gave me my marching orders. And if I’m clever, they’ll never even know that I’m looking for answers. I think I’m fully entitled to know who I’m living with.

Who knows, maybe one or two of have them do have some skeletons in the closet. Seeing that I have accepted our unusual living arrangements I have to protect myself somehow and make sure that I can trust all three of them.

I get my Smartphone from Liam’s room and sit down on the sofa. Right, let’s see what Google can tell me about Alexander Gabriel. I enter the name and press ‘Search’. A lot of hits appear on the screen.

Right on top of the list there’s even a Wikipedia entry about Alexander Gabriel. I click on the link.

Wikipedia tells me that Alex is from a musical background. His already deceased father was a well-known songwriter who introduced Alex to music at an early age. It also shows the year of his birth, which means he must be 34 years old now. If Liam and Marcus were in the same year with Alex at their boarding school then all three boys must be between 34 and 35, just about the age I guessed them to be anyway. At least I now know how old my hosts are. It’s a start.

The article also mentions an older sister. Then there’s a long list of theme music Alex composed for various movies and console games.

But no mention of his private live.

I click my way through the other search results and find more of his compositions, miscellaneous accolades and awards, but nothing personal. Nothing about relationships, affairs, hobbies or anything else.

Just like Liam, Alex, too, seem to keep his private live strictly secret.

How can that be, I think. There must be a way to unearth more about my roomies. If the Internet doesn’t reveal anything, I have to try something else.

But what?

Frustrated I turn my cellphone off again and get back to work at my room.

I don’t have a lot of time left after wasting over an hour on the useless net search. If I want to put my things away, shower and get dressed I have to hurry up.

Groaning, I heave the other boxes and bags into the guestroom and open the big white closet.

What’s all that? I think. One half of the closet is empty, but the other is filled with clothes: lace nighties, extremely short dresses I would never wear outside the house and various indecent costumes.

I pick up one of the dresses. Exactly my size. Do the guys select their roomies according to dress size?

I open one of the drawers and inspect the saucy lingerie it houses. It should fit me as well. Even the bras are in my size. All the items are definitely designed to satisfy male fantasies. But I don’t exactly like the idea that other women may have worn them before me. I’ve no problem with second hand dresses, but underwear? No way will I wear those.

I close that half of the closet again and put my stuff in the other.

Freshly showered, made-up and groomed, I sit in the living room a while later in a black skirt and a semi see-though white chiffon top waiting for the driver.

The thought that I’ll soon be on my own with Alex makes me feel a little queasy.

Pull yourself together, Kate, I think. If that’s enough to unsettle you, whatever is going to happen at my ominous initiation celebration this evening?

My thoughts are interrupted when the doorbell rings and I feel a little adrenalin rush.

Must be the driver.

I wonder what my first date with Alex will be like.

After another deep breath, I check my appearance in the large hall mirror, grab my purse and open the door to find myself face to face with the chauffeur I already encountered on my adventures with Liam. Alex and Liam seem to be sharing his services.

Whatever must he think of me, I wonder and sense myself blushing.

“Hi,” I mumble sheepishly.

The driver intimates a bow: “How do you do, Miss Thompson. Are you ready?”

I’m baffled. I didn’t realize that he even knows my name. How many of the men’s playmates has he chauffeured around before? I wonder.

“Yes, thank you. I’m ready,” I say taken aback and clutch my purse.

The drivers nods and presses the elevator button. I close the door to the apartment. We silently stand at the elevator and wait. It was somehow different when Liam was there. Being alone with the driver feels a little awkward. Mustn’t be as hard-boiled as I thought. Maybe Liam’s right when he says he finds my innocence cute. I definitely still have to do a bit of getting used to situations like these.

It’s probably best if I sit in the back and look for the button to activate the partition, I think while twirling a strand of hair between my fingers. On the other hand, this may be a welcome opportunity to find out more about my roomies. If I play my cards right, Liam and Alex’s chauffeur may just part with some information.

The elevator arrives and the driver gallantly lets me go in first.

“How long have you been working for Mr. Gabriel and Mr. Alvord?” I ask.

He seems to consider the question for a second before answering: “Nearly three years.”

Three years, I think. He must have witnessed quite a few things so.

“And how long have they lived in this apartment?” I chance my luck again.

“I can’t tell you,” he replies hesitantly. “The gentlemen definitely had this place ever since I started working for them.”

“And you’ve also been chauffeuring certain women around ever since?“ I probe in what I hope is a firm voice.

“Listen, lady, I believe that the gentlemen are happy with me because I don’t ask questions and don’t talk too much. You should do the same!” he replies and escorts me to the limo. Disappointed, I follow him.

I don’t even have to activate the partition. The driver’s already done that just after I’ve climbed onto the back seat. Presumably his way of showing that he doesn’t want our conversation to continue.

Great. That really didn’t get me anywhere either. The only extra bit of information is that the men have shared their communal apartment for at least three years.

Pity the driver won’t tell me anything more, I think and contemplate the ring Liam, Marcus and Alex have given me. I guess the chauffeur also had to sign a confidentiality agreement.

Twenty minutes later we arrive at our destination. I study the building. It’s a sweet little old villa which seems a bit lost wedged in between two modern commercial premises.

“Carpe Noctem
”

it says in big letters above the entrance.

Carpe noctem? Seize the night? Strange name for a restaurant. But that’s what’s written in black under the gold lettering:

“Carpe Noctem
”

RESTAURANT

I heave a sigh of relief. Perhaps Alex really only wants to take me out to lunch. The reticent chauffeur leaves me to my fate with the words: “Mr. Gabriel is expecting you.”

Well then, I think and straighten my shoulders. Let’s go on my first date with Alex. 

My eyes need a moment to adjust from the bright daylight to the dim light inside the restaurant. I’m standing in a kind of antechamber. The walls are painted black and merely a few candles illuminate the room. There are no windows. 

A small, brunette, middle-aged woman behind a reception counter smiles at me.

“Hello! Welcome to Carpe Noctem. Please hang up your coat in the cloakroom over there. You’re being expected.”

“Hi! I will,” I reply while wondering why the hell she’s wearing shades in this gloomy light.

“Follow me, please,” says the woman and opens a large black door beside the reception. I see a spiral staircase leading to the basement. My high heels clatter on the timber floor when I walk over to the opening.

“You better take your shoes off,” the woman suggests pointing to my feet.

Take my shoes off? I think. Why? What kind of a restaurant is this?

Fair enough, the spiral staircase is only dimly lit, but I’m sure I’ll manage to make it downstairs in one peace despite the heels. I’ve mastered far more challenging stairs in my day.

“Really?” I check with her, just in case.

“Yes,” she confirms. “You’ll have to take them off down there anyway.”

I shrug my shoulders, slip out of my stilettos and pick them up. Frowning, I follow the strange lady with the shades downstairs. I have never heard of having to take off your shoes in any restaurant except Japanese ones. That’s where they give you those cute little embroidered slippers. But “Carpe Noctem” doesn’t sound at all Japanese.

My hope that Alex simply wants to have lunch with me vanishes completely when my attendant opens the heavy wooden door leading to the restaurant.

Because I see nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The room behind the door is pitch-dark.

“Please leave your shoes over there,” she says and points to a little bench to the right of the door.” I park my shoes beside a pair of black brogues. Alex’s I guess. Ours are the only shoes on the bench. Is nobody else here?

“You better take my arm so I can bring you to your seat,” the brunette lady suggests. She doesn’t seem to have any intention of turning the lights on.

Shit, I think. What is this place? One of those restaurants where you eat in complete darkness? The dim light upstairs and the name of the restaurant should really have made me guess. And the shaded lady is presumably blind. That’s we she doesn’t care.

I should have known that it would have been too easy to simply have a normal lunch date with Alex.

I shake my head, take the woman’s arm and carefully put one foot in front of the other.