Bianca
I was driven to a building in another part of town. St Just accompanied me. We spoke very little on the drive. St Just seemed to be preoccupied and kept texting and receiving phone calls. When we turned up at one of the streets in the city which housed all the financial institutions, I stepped out in a daze, unsure about where I was heading.
Tall buildings crowded either side of the street, bearing some of the names of the financial giants in the state. I bit my lip nervously as I realized that I was being trusted with something a lot more complex than my Dad’s little old bakery!
St Just frowned and said in a curt voice,
“Come on in, Bianca.”
Now that we had reached, St Just sounded impatient, quite unlike my kind lover. I turned around, more than a little nervous.
*
He strode to the doors and I trotted after him valiantly, trying to keep in step but his larger strides made me positively run and I was breathless when we reached the elevators.
I had a blurred image of the reception and figured that several offices, mostly accounting ones, were housed in the same building. No one looked at me, which was a relief.
Silently, I thanked St Just for having asked me to dress formally, for most of the women I saw were in several pantsuits, with small briefcases, going about their business along with their male counterparts.
We had been joined by a harassed-looking middle-aged man as we crossed the lobby and I was introduced to him by St Just.
“This is Binaca Cruz,” he said curtly.
The man turned and did a double-take when he saw me. I flushed.
Did I really look too young?
Nervousness and anxiety made my palms sweat and I surreptitiously rubbed them on the sides of my skirt.
*
His lips tightened as St Just snapped,
‘ She’ll be handling the accounts for a few weeks till we hire someone else,” and I watched as the man’s brows shot high, to disappear in his hairline.
He turned to St Just and exclaimed in a high nasal voice,
‘You’re kidding, right? I mean, this KID???”
And he gave me a look of confusion.
I stared right back at him, my chin jutting out belligerently.
Oh, great, I thought crossly, now I have a whole lot of male chauvinists to deal with. First O’Grady who did not think I could count to save my life; then this man with the disbelieving look on his face!
*
Noting my stormy expression, the man backtracked hastily.
“No offence, Miss, but the accounts can get to be a little too much.”
He gave a weak smile in an attempt to mollify me.
St Just opened his mouth to respond but then, the elevator doors chimed and I noticed that we were on the sixteenth floor.
St Just stepped out crisply and nodded at me, indicating that I should follow. We stepped out, onto a plush carpeted floor.
A corridor stretched ahead, leading out to many doors. I counted four, each emblazoned with the name of the group who had their office there.
St Just and the man who was called Joe, although no introductions had been made and I was clueless about his actual role, walked ahead and I followed, my anger spiking.
*
We reached a door that simply bore the legend,’ O’Grady and St Just’ and as Joe pushed open the door and held it for me to enter after them, I walked in and stopped.
Wide windows around us threw in light and I saw a number of desks, occupied by men and women of various ages, none as young as me, though, I thought with a sinking heart.
Some of them glanced my way and once again, I was glad that I had dressed down.
As I followed St Just and Joe meekly, I told myself that if I wanted to continue working here, I had better get a few pantsuits and sober skirts and prim blouses , to look the part. And perhaps try to pass off as an older version of myself.
*
St Just strode to a door set at the back of the room and I followed meekly. The enormity of the task he was entrusting me to , had begun to dawn on me now.
*
We entered a large room, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke and some cheap cologne. Definitely unlike the rooms that St Just and O’Grady had, I thought and scolded myself for sounding so superior.
What were they to me, anyways?
They had paid for my services for a year; after that, I would be discarded to make way for another willing submissive. The thought made my heart harden*
*
St Just went to a large table which had papers scattered across the surface and sat down on an ancient looking swivel chair.
Joe Simmons fussed about, piling the papers and generally trying to make it look neat. It dawned upon me; it had to be his room, then. With a nod, he indicated that I should sit in the chair in front of him and Joe sank into the other one beside me.
“This is Joe Simmons,” he said flatly,” Ms Bianca Cruz,’ he added, making the brief introductions in a deadpan voice.
Joe Simmons sighed and looked at me,
‘If O’Grady hadn’t gone and broken Sean Kirby’s knees, we wouldn’t have had this problem on our hands,” he grumbled.
St Just slammed the palm of his hand down on the table and we jumped, Simmons and I.
“O’Grady did what we do to folks who try to cheat us, Simmons,” he drawled in a hard voice, his tawny eyes gleaming. I saw the sweat break out on Joe Simmons’s forehead.
St Just’s expression scared me. I had a gut feeling that if I had not been there, he would have become violent in his handling of the situation.
*
Joe Simmons seemed to have been struck by the same thought. He fidgeted restlessly and when he spoke, he was almost whining pathetically.
“Hey hold on, St Just, I was just saying…”
“Don’t,” growled St Just and I stared open-mouthed at my Master. This was another side of him that I was seeing, not the gentle lover I was so used to.
Yes, I had sensed that there was something dangerous lurking beneath his suave, polished exterior. But now, when he stood, looking down at Simmons, the sunlight causing his eyes to glint like gold, I felt an uncanny fear .
This man was just as dangerous as O’Grady. While Liam O’Grady coated his aggression behind with his smiling mask, the steel within him always close at hand.
For the first time in so many days, I felt a wave of full-blown panic break out in me; these men were gangsters and I began to breathe faster.
Dear God, I thought, what had I got myself into?
Because I now comprehended what had happened to the unfortunate chief accountant who had been here.
He had been caught with his hand in the till and O’Grady had meted out his particular brand of justice.
Swift and non-compromising.
Simmons had just said something about a broken knee. I shuddered.
*
As though he sensed my fear, St Just turned to me. But when he spoke, it was in a cold, distant voice,
“Ms Cruz, you will be working with Simmons who will show you the ropes.”
I nodded and said in a small voice,
“Yes Sir.”
He went on, his eyes hard as he looked at Simmons,
“She can have the small office on the side.”
Simmons nodded.
“Get it ready, get the necessary documents over, a working computer, all the stuff, shifted in.” he roared, and Simmons scurried out.
St Just looked at me, a small smile tender and gentle, transforming his face. In a lower voice, he said softly,
“Pet, I don’t want anyone to know of our relationship, is that clear?”
I nodded mutely.
“It’s for your safety, babe,” he said gently, misreading my fear and I nodded again, dumbly.
“This is what I have told the others in the office,,” he began and tapped at something on his phone. I looked at the phone in my hands.
He had sent a short biodata which gave my name, gave a fictitious address and background. My shoulders slumped a little.
“You can take the bus from here to the center of the city; a car will pick you up from there and bring you home, right?” he went on, his keen eyes assessing me. I nodded again. Refusing to look at him.
So I would be functioning here under an alias of sorts.
And then he reached across and stroked my hand.
“Pet, it is for your safety, you understand?”
I bit my lip and nodded slowly.
It would give me something to do, and I shrugged my shoulders. Why was I complaining?
Simmons rapped on the door and I turned around.
“Come along, Ms Cruz,” he said and I stood, my eyes meeting St Just’s
Then I was walking out of the office, into a new phase of my life.