Chapter 4
My front door opens then slams shut, and my head snaps in the direction of the loud noise. Wondering who it is, I get up from the barstool at my kitchen island and start walking that way. Brent collides with me. “What’s wrong?” I ask while rubbing my shoulder from the impact.
“Turn on the news,” he states then stomps his way into my living room. He grabs the remote himself, turns the television on, and a picture of Celeste is front and center.
“Turn it up,” I demand.
“Twenty-eight-year-old Celeste Marshall was found dead this morning at the Ritz-Carlton. Police haven’t given cause of death yet and they aren’t giving details due to the ongoing investigation. Celeste is the third woman found dead that worked at Miss Magdalene’s escort service. That is all we have for you right now, but we will return with updates as we receive them.” Brent shuts the television off and turns to me.
“I need to make a call.” I rush through the kitchen, grab my phone off the island, and head to my office, slamming the door behind me.
“Hello,” Magdalene answers on the third ring.
“What the fuck is going on?” My tone is deadly.
“Calm down, Jameson.” Magdalene is the only one in her business that knows my true identity because I’ve known her half my life.
“Celeste is dead!” I whisper-yell, eyes wide from the shock.
“Yes, I know, the cops have been by here. I don’t know what’s going on.” Her voice shakes like she’s about to break. “If my girls keep ending up dead, I’m going to go out of business. Maybe it’s wrong, but I have a new one.”
“You hired a new girl?” I shake my head and run my fingers through my dark hair.
“She’s new, young, and pretty. You would like her,” Magdalene states like we haven’t just been discussing three of her girls being murdered.
My brows pull down, and I sit back in my office chair. “Why would you bring new ones on?”
She sighs. “Because I still have a business to run.” Both of us are quiet for a moment.
My craving starts to cloud my judgement. “Has she ever worked in this type of establishment?”
“No, she’s never worked for an escort service before.” I imagine the smile forming on her face because she knows I’m intrigued. “She’s only had one sexual partner.” My cock expands under my jeans at the thought of taking her.
“Does she have hard limits?” I know I shouldn’t be asking, but curiosity about the new one is winning.
“She checked no hard limits.” My cock twitches.
“If she’s to your liking, be easy on her until she gets used to you.”
“Easy? I don’t do easy, Maggie.” I sit back in my chair.
She laughs. “Don’t scare her off, then.”
“What’s her number?”
“I’ll text it to you.”
“Great.” I hang up without saying goodbye.
Thinking about my call with Magdalene, I contemplate laying low for a while until everything calms, but the thought of taking this woman is almost unbearable. There’s a knock on my office door. “Come in.”
Penny pokes her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but Mrs. Jackson is here to see you.”
“Tell her I’ll be right out.” She nods and closes the door behind her. I stand, take a deep breath, and focus on something else so my growing cock can ease.
Katherine Jackson, my aunt, has decided to pay me a visit. I’m sure it has to do with the charity masquerade ball she is hosting. I shut down my laptop, close my office door behind me, and go join my aunt in the front room.
“Jameson!” She smiles and pulls me in for a hug. She is dressed as elegantly as always in her black Ralph Lauren slacks and matching blazer. Her blonde hair is styled into a French twist, and her makeup hides her aging lines, as she calls them.
Hugging her back, I ask, “How are you, Aunt Katherine? What brings you by?”
“I’m just fine, Jameson.” She releases me and adds, “I’ve come to make sure you are still attending the masquerade ball in a couple of weeks.” She walks over to the couch and sits. Crossing her legs and hands, her eyes connect with mine. “Will you have a plus one?” She smiles and pats the couch seat next to her. “Join me.”
“Of course I’ll be attending, but no, no plus one.” I laugh lightly as I sit next to her.
“When are you going to find someone to settle down with? I want you to be happy, and living here all alone must be lonely. I worry about you, Jameson.” She takes my hand in hers.
“I am happy.” Smiling, I try to ease her worry, but we go through this all the time. I’m thirty years old, successful, and she believes it’s time for me to settle down. That’s not an easy task when you don’t trust people and don’t let them into your personal life. Plus, I don’t do relationships.
“I need to ask you something.” Her eyes search mine. “Will you speak at the ball?”
“Katherine…”
She interrupts me. “You don’t have to answer right now, but it would mean a lot to me.”
I quickly stand from the couch, walk over to the wet bar, and pour myself a scotch on the rocks. My gaze cuts to hers. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I can ask.” She stands from the couch and smooths out her slacks. “I’ll be going now. I love you, Jameson.”
“I love you too.” I take a long sip from my glass and watch her walk out the door.
Katherine asking me to speak in front of hundreds of people about something so personal has me on edge. My phone pings in my pocket. Pulling it out, I have one new text from Magdalene; I open the message to view the girl’s name and phone number. I put my phone back in my pocket and spend the rest of my evening trying to drink the past away and keep the memories at bay. Once I close my eyes, the memory invades me like a hurricane.
We walk faster.
So do they.
We run.
They chase us.
“Run, Jamie!”
It’s been a week since my aunt’s visit and Celeste was found murdered. Every newspaper has Jenna, Dawn, and Celeste’s pictures on the front page saying they were strangled. Questions of who is next, why are these women being targeted, and is anyone a suspect are being asked. They have named the person The Call Girl Killer and detectives have announced it’s a serial killer.
Sighing, I throw the newspaper on my desk just as the phone starts to ring. “Yes, Greta?”
“Mr. Kincaid, Mr. Roberts is on line one.”
“Thank you.” I hang up with Greta and pick up line one. “Hello, Bill. What can I do for you?” Bill Roberts is CEO of Roberts and Sons, and Kincaid Enterprises is trying to merge with them. The deal is supposed to be finalized soon.
“Hello, Jameson. Roberts and Sons took a vote on the merger today and I’m sorry, but the deal isn’t going to happen.” I hear his deep breathing as mine stops.
“What? I thought we had no issues, that once the vote happened the contracts would be signed?” I run my hand through my hair and pull. “Bill, your company doesn’t want to lose out on this deal; you’re going to throw away hundreds of thousands of dollars?” I try stressing to him how important this is.
“I wanted the deal and I know what my company is losing, Jameson. It wasn’t me that turned it down.” I hear the irritation in his tone.
“What if I increase our payout?” Dropping my elbow on my desk, I hang my head.
“You can make us another offer, but I’m not sure it would do any good.”
“Fine. I’ll see what we can do and get back to you next week.” I hang up. “Fuck!” I slam the phone onto the desk. I need this deal to go through, and I thought we had it. All they had to fucking do was sign the damn contract.
Tension and anger start to build within me. I know what I need. Opening my briefcase, I pull the burner phone out and message the number Magdalene gave me.
Me: I’m Mr. Freedman. Ritz Carlton 8pm. Check in under my name and the room is yours for the night.
I wait anxiously for her reply. It takes a few minutes, but finally my phone pings.
R: Ok.
I stare at the small screen for several seconds. My hand itches to spank her ass for that response. Usually there is only one message sent from the woman I have chosen, but I find myself replying.
Me: That wasn’t a very professional response, Ms. Bridges.
Three little dots appear, letting me know she is messaging me back.
R: Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize I needed to be so formal in a text.
Me: Is that sarcasm? Professionalism goes a long way, Ms. Bridges, and you can address me as Sir since I will be your boss for the evening.
R: No sarcasm, Sir.
Another first; I find myself smiling at her smiley face.
Me: Oh, I think you do have a smart mouth, Ms. Bridges, and you have earned yourself 3 spankings. I hope you are ready for me. See you at 8.
I pack up to leave work for the evening, meet Brent outside, and all the way home I think about what to take in a couple of hours for Ms. Bridges.