You mingled for a bit before dinner was announced. You met nearly everyone there, excluding the host you had only noticed in passing. However, the night was young, and you saw no reason to worry. Baxter's little escort allowed you to scout the house and the people inside. You gathered piece-by-piece information from the people within, information that could be useful later but not any substantial that you could hand off to R.
People flooded into the large dining room. There was a long dining table that was made to seat all seventeen people that were officially attending the dinner party. A name card on each plate allowed people to know the seating chart. It almost felt as though you were attending a wedding. You scanned the table, looking for your fake last name before finding it positioned at the last seat near the end of the table, a single chair placed at the end. You glanced at the card placed there to see 'Mayers'. Lucky break.
You set your clutch bag down on the corner of the table and went to grab your seat to pull it back and let yourself slip into your spot. As your fingers were about to brush the wood, another hand softly blew it away. You raised your eyes, hoping not to come into view of Mr. Baxter again, you didn't look at the other card that would be seated to your right, but you whispered a silent prayer that it wasn't him. You were greeted with a more pleasant sight.
The speckled grey in his beard and the sweeping silver across the sides of his head melted into beautiful chocolate locks. You didn't want to say it earlier in R's office, but you could have been assigned to 'hit' someone far less attractive. The man was older, but damn did he have class. It was a shame you'd have to blow his pretty brains out.
"Let me." He grabbed the back of your chair and pulled it out for you. With a quick look at his fingers, you noticed the lack of a wedding band and had to fight back a smirk. This job may have just gotten easier.
"Thank you." Your voice came out in a low whisper. You fluttered your lashes to him before slowly slipping into your seat and looking back up at him from behind, giving him a beaming smile as he moved around your chair to claim the seat at the end of the table.
The rest of the dinner guests found their place at the table. Slimeball Baxter was seated on the other side of the table, four chairs down. At least you didn't have to worry about his relentless flirting that would interrupt your objective. You pulled your purse into your lap and covered it with the silk napkin lying on your plate. You pushed the name card out of the way as appetizers started to leave the kitchen.
"So, you're Mr. Yates's daughter?" You heard a raspy voice question beside you. Your headshot in his direction to see him leaning over the table softly in an attempt to be heard over the dull roar of the crowd.
"Yes." You confirmed, having not been able to introduce yourself to him earlier. Baxter probably didn't want to bring you to 'competition,' as Mr. Mayers may very well be single. "My name is Kaitlyn." You introduced, staring to raise your hand above the table you stopped and pulled it back, figuring the gesture may appear inappropriate at such a high-class dinner.
Mayers noticed the gesture, quickly met your retreating hand, and took it into his own. He offered you a reassuring smile and brought your knuckles up to his lips to kiss them, his mustache tickling at your skin. You giggled softly as your bashfully pulled your gaze from his deep hazel eyes.
"I'm Jacob." He offered up his first name and only his first name, not giving you a chance to address him so formally. Your smile grew as you drew your attention back to him, casting your spell as you tried to entice him subtly.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." You let your voice call to a low whisper but high enough that you knew he heard. Releasing your hand, you slowly brought it back to your lap, hidden under the table's cloth.
Plates of well-prepared food began to line the table, decorated beautifully with Canna flowers and red Transvaal daisies. Glass after glass of Cateau Petru red wine flowed like water and was consumed as soon as it came. It was a twenty-one thousand dollar bottle of wine, and these people were drinking it like it was nothing.
No business was discussed; people were catching up more on casual business or family affairs. One woman announced the engagement of her oldest daughter. Another explained he had just opened a new power plant in Eastern Europe, and it was taking off well. It was all boring crap that you had to pretend to be interested in; you had to pretend to listen as if you planned to go home and tell Daddy-Dearest about tonight's adventures.
You were more taken in whenever Jacob spoke. He shared experiences of his last trip to Italy and his escapades with a baguette boy who tried to steal his wallet. He traveled often, and given the type of money R explained he had, you weren't surprised. You were finding it hard to believe that this man was so ruthless in forcing lower-class people from their homes without a care in the world; he seemed upstanding. Then again, everyone had their dark side, didn't they? Ultimately he was just another job.
Taking the last sip of your wine, you set the glass down before slowly pushing your chair out. You started to stand. You purposely stepped on the end of your dress and made yourself stumble in Mr. Mayers's direction. You released a low gasp as he swiftly held out his arm to catch you by the waist and gently ushered you back upright as he stood with you.
"Haha... I'm sorry. Perhaps the wine was stronger than I thought." You embarrassingly laughed as you held onto his arm for support. Please, strong wine? To these people, maybe. Your nails scraped across the fabric of his Prada black suit jacket.
"Are you okay?" His hand rested on your hip as he looked at you with concern. He didn't mean to let it show, but his gaze drifted to your bust, and you had caught it from the corner of your eye.
"Yes." You nodded, curling your hair behind your ear as you smiled at him. "I was hoping to go find the washroom, but I..." Your eyes trailed around, laying on the ignorant mindset thing. You tossed the implication that you weren't sure where the bathroom was as a ploy to get away from the crowd and scout more of the house.
"Why don't I show you?" He offered. Damn, well, there goes that plan. Plan B.
"Thank you." Letting go of Jacob, you turned back to your seat and leaned over as you reached for your clutch bag that fell on the floor by your feet when you faked your stumble. You curled your back and leg, your back end flaunting in his direction without making it obvious. You heard him clear his throat, and while your head was down, you let that sly smirk sneak out.
You popped back up and offered a bob of your head as you signaled you were ready. He gestured in the direction to head, and you followed his lead, moving out of the dining room as you left the bustle of the crowd. You were left with him now as the two of you began to wander through the spacious halls of the mansion.
You commented on the decor, letting him explain where some of his paintings or artifacts had come from. Stopping to admire as you hung up on his words to further your connection. You peddled a story about how your father didn't let you collect such nice things like his, and you appreciated his eye for art. It was softening his skin, making him warm up to you. You could tell by the closeness with which he walked alongside you the closer you got to the bathroom.
You lead you into one of the many bedrooms that littered his million-dollar mansion and lead you to the private bathroom within. Reaching the door, you turned to face him and lowered your head. You let your teeth sink into your painted lips and your body fidgeting softly. You could tell by how his feet were splayed out in your vision that he was waiting patiently for you to speak.
"Do you think you'd mind waiting for me? I'd hate to get lost on my way back." You giggled softly as you gave him a pleading gaze. You let your eyes blink more than usual, and your body swayed softly as if listening to music; you were leading him to believe you were tipsy and that you needed his strength to guide you but not so drunk that he thought you were out of your head.
"Of course." He smiled, stuffing his large hand into the pocket of his slacks. He grounded his broad frame and gave you a confirming nod.
You returned the gesture in thanks before turning and heading into the washroom. You smiled back at him as you let the door slowly close, his eyes being the last thing you saw before you disappeared into the private bathroom.
YOU ARE READING
CONDEMNATION ✓
Fanfiction"So? You killed one of my guys. You want an award?" "Perhaps you'll fit in around here better than I thought." "Who the fuck said I wanted to?" "Who said you have a choice?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------- ...
