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CHAPTER 10
SELA
I had enough of this stupid club by now. How the hell were you supposed to find out if nobody could or would tell you anything? I can't join unless I know and I can't know because I haven't joined and no one can tell me anyone anything about it. How the fuck could this be around for so long if it was so dumb? Screw this club, screw Dorian Grant, screw this whole situation. The excitement and the sexiness wasn't worth all of this stupidity.
But, I had nowhere else to go. I was thinking of what I should or could do, and thinking I needed to eat or else I would be drunk soon, and maybe low blood sugar was making me nuts, when the door opened and the smell of Chinese food wafted in with Dorian Grant.
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“I'm pretty light on food around here. But at least you're not thirsty.” he said, looking at the beer in my hand. It felt like I should hide it.
“Want one?”
“Yes.”
He had enough food for five people with him. He kept dumping boxes of noodles, chicken, vegetables over plates. I dug out a beer for him from the back of the fridge, and left the four beers remaining on the table.
“Now don't hold back. I know you must be starving. Dig in.”
“Don't worry.” I cracked his beer open and handed it to him. I heaped a little of everything on my plate and ate ravenously.
“So, alone in my apartment most of the day? Have you snooped in my medicine cabinet? Found the secret passageways behind the bookshelf?”
He was joking, but dammit, I never thought of the medicine cabinet, or bookshelves. “Of course not, I'm a guest. I've been very respectful, besides the beer.”
“You lie.”
“Do I get punished for lying?”
“Yes.” he said, automatically, then tried to cover it up, backtrack. “Kidding.” But he wasn't, not really.
“I did look around your second bedroom.”
“And?”
“It's different. Interesting decorations.”
“It reminds me of my childhood. I don't get into nostalgia very often, but sometimes.”
“Nostalgia?”
“I was raised in Africa, until I was 13.”
“I didn't know.”
“Of course not.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You haven't read anything about me? Not even wikipedia?”
“I thought you were the news and they would only print what you wanted anyways?”
“Some things you can't control. My parents had a small nature preserve in Africa, and I was born and raised there. I had no idea I was rich until they were killed by poachers when I was 13 and I inherited $700 million. Total surprise to me.”
“That's strange.”
“Yes, it is. They didn't care about money. But I never got to ask them why. Did you have a favorite piece?”
“What is the one with the ladder?”
“I'm not sure. I always liked that one too, even as a kid. They would laugh and tell me to ask them later. I suppose I could find out now couldn't I? Sometimes it's nice not to know.”
“What about the tusk?”
“The ivory. Yes, illegal to have here. But it was from the animal killed by the poachers. The one my parents were killed for. They ended up leaving the ivory, well, part of it. One man was killed the other got away. I kept the tusk. Morbid, I know.”
“No, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“Is that why you joined this club, whatever it is? Why your interests are what they are?”
“The club, is old and very exclusive. Goes back thousands of years, so I'm told. You shouldn't ask too many more questions.”
“I've been thinking I want to join. I can consent now. I want knowledge. I want the confidence it gave me. I want the excitement. Isn’t this how it goes?”
His eyes were furious. “You have no idea. And I said 'No' already.”
“OK master,”
“You don't know what you’re agreeing to and anyways, we can't. But there is a new way. I've decided to hire you as an employee of mine. That should keep you safe from Dante.”
“As what? A maid? Your apartment doesn't even have dust in it.”
“As a reporter, photo journalist.”
“But my pictures aren't any good.”
“They're amazing what are you talking about. I had someone bring me your portfolio today. You're a star.”
The freelance was at Oren’s insistence, so we could be a team. I never even considered going alone or even seeing what was out there.
“Well, I own something like 30 newspapers and magazines. You'll have your pick of where to go and what to do.”
“I want this. Whatever it is. One of those marks.”
“I said no.”
A job meant a paycheck and I could move out and he would be done with me. Wouldn't need to take care of me anymore. I'm a burden, how could I not realize I was looking to be taken care of just like them? Oren and Dad? And how much I hated that, only did it out of duty because the other emotions were washed out by that point? It's the same for him.