Corrupted, page 11
“Sorry, I guess I really want this to go well too,” he says, then he smiles and moves to sit next to me. He takes my hand and places it in his and I smile at him, secretly pleased with this new form of affection.
We arrive at the charity gala fifteen minutes later and as Michael helps guide me out of the car, I have to remind myself to keep my expression in check so as not to let my astonishment show. The place looks like a huge palace, apparently, it’s owned by one of Michael’s friends. It has huge, long windows and amazing architecture. If America had a King and Queen, I imagine they would live somewhere like this.
“It’s a nice house,” says Michael and I turn to see he is watching me with a twinkle in his eye.
“It’s ok,” I mumble, “I’ve seen nicer.” He laughs as I take his arm and allow him to escort me towards the entrance. As we walk through the grand entrance with staff ready and waiting to take our coats, I feel so incredibly gracious. Most women dream about attending beautiful events such as this, with a nice-looking man on their arm, but then I keep having to remind myself that this isn’t real…not really. I mean I’m not here as his girlfriend, I’m here as his sugar baby…I guess the old sayings true…you can’t really have everything.
Inside, there is a huge room with a bar one side and a huge rectangular dance floor, although there are common themes of a party here, they are twice as grand. Then I notice there is a swing band on a stage against a stone wall. How can anyone live in a house like this? I can’t believe I’m in a house like this. “I’ll get us some drinks,” suggests Michael, “try not to talk to anyone until I get back.” I almost roll my eyes at him; this is a classy party, and I don’t know anyone; who am I going to talk to? I take the time to enjoy being able to look around unnoticed, until I see a blond-haired man in his mid-thirties staring at me. I try to avoid eye contact and hope he doesn’t come over to talk. I turn towards the swing band that are playing on the stage, but it’s not long before I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn around to see the blond gentleman again.
“Wow,” he says looking me up and down, “Michael sure knows how to pick ‘em, you are spectacular”. I flush bright red, unsure what to say in response. “What’s your name beautiful?” he continues. Even though he is complimenting me, I take an instant dislike to him; he comes across as too arrogant and someone who thinks of himself as a lady’s man.
“Lucy,” I reply, trying not to sound too annoyed.
“Lucy,” he repeats, “it suits you. Listen Lucy what are you doing here with a person like Michael? You know you’re way out of his league.” I throw him a look of distain; what kind of jerk starts hitting on somebody else’s date? Before I have the chance to tell him that I feel very privileged to be here with Michael, I suddenly feel an arm around my shoulder and am instantly more at ease. Without turning to see who it is, I know that it is Michael.
“You wouldn’t be trying to hit on my date, would you?” enquires Michael, confirming my suspicions.
“Of course, not,” the guy replies, “I was merely pointing out that you are punching well above your weight that’s all.” I make an annoyed sound then try to cover it with a cough, inside I am raging, clearly not all the men at the gala tonight are gentleman.
“I make three times what you do,” states Michael casually, “but don’t let that stand in the way of you talking me down.” The guy has the decency to look embarrassed and holds his hands up in surrender.
“Lucy, this is Julian,” offers Michael, turning towards me, “his father and I do a lot of business together.” I nod and smile at him, but I am unable to bring myself to smile at Julian.
“And aren’t I just over the moon about it?” retorts Julian. Then he walks away without even a second glance. I turn to Michael with raised eyebrows and roll my eyes.
“You know, it’s not polite to roll your eyes,” explains Michael, amused, “but I think in this case it’s warranted.” I smile and then nod at him grimacing. “Unfortunately, these parties do attract the occasional arsehole,” he states bluntly. I am pleased to hear that our opinions of the so-called Julian are similar.
“I noticed,” I reply politely. Then Michael holds out his arm for me to take which I do, then he begins to lead me past a sea of people dancing on the giant dance floor, it all looks so formal, and I feel terribly out of place.
“Come on, my friends are over near the bar.” I panic slightly and look down at my dress, maybe I should check myself out in the lady’s toilets first. Then Michael leans towards me.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers, and I instantly feel so much better.
“Thanks,” I reply, “Let’s do this.” We begin to head over to the bar area, when suddenly another man walks in front of him. He is small in stature with dark hair and a moustache that makes him look he has walked straight out of an 80’s advert.
“Ahh Michael,” he says, “Kay with you tonight?” Michael’s mouth falls open but then he regains his composure before looking towards me.
“Erm no actually,” he says, “this is Lucy. She’s my date for the evening,” I smile as I wonder to myself who Kay is; another one of his sugar babies?
“Lucy, this is James,” says Michael. James reaches forward to shake my hand looking me up and down appreciatively. “If you’ll excuse us James, I can see my two good friends over by the bar area.” Michael quickly leads me away and I think about asking him about Kay, but I don’t want to annoy him plus it’s completely up to him if he has more than one sugar baby on the go, as long as he is still paying me.
We walk over to the corner of the bar where I spot two gentlemen in their mid-forties and I immediately know they are Michael’s friends because they are smiling at us warmly. One of them is a rather large cheerful man whose hair has begun to grey. The other is a tall handsome guy with blonde hair and dark brown eyes.
“Lucy, these are my good friends Tim Meadows and George Conway.” He smiles at me and then at them, I can tell he is extremely nervous. I smile warmly at both of them, doing my best to cover my nerves.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I state politely, “Michael’s told me such nice things about you.” They exchange glances, and I can tell they are curious about what Michael has told me, but the truth is he’s told me nothing. However, I know lots of guys liked their egos being stroked. I cast a quick glance at Michael to see that he is blinking at me, torn between surprise and amusement.
“You interested in politics Lucy?” asks Jim. I look at Michael unsure whether to answer and he just smiles at me giving a slight nod.
“Very much,” I reply, “I’m actually planning on a career that relies quite heavily on politics.” Jim looks impressed, but George looks rather concerned; I bet he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t think much about women in politics. However, I probably shouldn’t share that opinion.
“You’re not thinking about running for president, are you?” says George. He laughs at the idea and I have to try really hard to prevent myself from rolling my eyes.
“I should hope not; I’m British,” I say, aiming for an amused tone, “I’m studying for a degree in criminal law.” George nods as if I have just earnt his respect, but I don’t care if he respects me; I’m sure Michael does though, so I keep my mouth shut.
“Wow…beauty and brains,” compliments Tim, “what are you doing with Michael?” I smile as they all laugh, including Michael who wraps his arm around my shoulder.
“We’ll catch up with you guys later,” he notes, “Lucy and I are going to dance.” Shit; we are? I mean I enjoy dancing when a pop song is on, but I’ve never elegantly slow danced like you are supposed to at a fancy gala when there is a swing band playing.
Michael seems to read my mind as he leads me towards the dance floor and says, “Don’t be nervous, it’s really easy. Just let me lead.” We get to the dance floor and he takes my right hand in his and then moves my left arm to be around his waist, then he leads us around the dance floor, and I find, to my own surprise that I am much better at it than I thought. I’m also pleased to see that Michael can barely keep his eyes off me, so much so that it almost feels too intimate, that we should be somewhere more private. I’m not sure how long we dance for, but suddenly the band stops playing and an elderly man in a suit and tie stands on the stage with a microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, the live auction will be beginning shortly followed by our three-course meal so if you could all take your seats,” he says. I look to Michael for direction, and he smiles before placing an arm around my waist and leading me off the dance floor.
Michael directs us to a round table where George and Tim are already seated along with a woman either side of them who I assume are their partners. I take my seat that Michael has graciously pulled off for me and smile at them politely. “This is my wife Claudia,” says Tim, I turn toward her and smile. Claudia is an extremely glamorous looking woman in her thirties with a blonde curly bob and a magnificent slinky dress in navy blue. As Michael sits down, I look towards George expecting him to introduce his wife or partner, but he seems oblivious. I look over at the woman on the other side of him and am instantly filled with a feeling of empathy; she looks such a timid woman with brown hair and a pink dress on. Unfortunately, this is the kind of woman who I imagined George might be with, after hearing his views on women being in politics. I am about to engage her in polite conversation when the lights dim, and the man appears on stage again with his microphone ready to begin the auction.
I am fascinated as I listen to the list of things being auctioned; there are four different holidays, a ship, a country house in Vermont and a case of rare bottles of expensive wine. I want to ask Michael if he is planning on bidding on anything, but then that would probably be rude. Servers come around to pour wine, as the bids for the Vermont country house are going underway. I politely decline the offer of a second glass of wine and opt for the jug of water already on the table, after all, there is nothing worse than embarrassing your sugar daddy at your first public outing. The bidding for the Vermont house is now at $450,000 and I cannot help thinking that some of these people have more money than sense. I mean judging from the picture of it, on the screen behind the stage it looks big and fancy, but certainly not big or fancy enough to warrant paying that much. “There is rumoured to be oil on the land,” explains Michael next to me and I think he must be able to read my mind or am I just so transparent? Eventually the Vermont house sells for $800,000 and we all applaud the person who has won. I look around eagerly to see what they look like and to my surprise find a woman stood up in her mid-fifties lazily acknowledging the applause, before she sits back down.
“Right, next up we have a luxury 5-day Caribbean Holiday for two,” says the man on the stage, “this package includes a private bar, luxury private accommodation complete with all the amenities and access to a private beach.” I cannot help but begin to daydream at his words, it sounds amazing, so much so that I’d probably bid on it, if I had any money that is. The photos on the screen behind him look amazing; the sea looks so blue and inviting.
“It’s Julian’s dad’s holiday house,” states Michael quietly, “it’s in a really great location, I holidayed with him and his family once, it was nice.” I turn towards him and smile, wondering what it would be like to go on holiday to a hot country with a beach.
“What’s the Caribbean like?” I ask him curiously, I am so jealous of anybody who has been on vacation in a beautiful country, let alone anyone who could afford to do it in luxury like Michael and his friends could.
“Hot, sandy…it’s actually pretty nice. One of my favourite places to visit,” he says, and I grin; it sounds perfect and though I hope to go there someday, I know for a fact that it probably won’t happen.
“You’ve never been?” he asks as the auction continues around us. “The only two countries I’ve been to are England and here,” I answer, “most of our family holidays were at small cosy caravan parks.” Michael frowns at me and I feel bad, I don’t want his sympathy…some of my best family memories I have are in that cosy little caravan park. Suddenly Michael breaks out into a smile and I think maybe he understands until I see his hand come up in the air with a numbered paddle.
Then I hear the announcer say, “$300,000 for the Caribbean Holiday for 2…do I hear anymore offers? Going once? Going twice…sold to Michael Berrington.” My hand flies to my mouth as I try not to gasp loudly, but then I remember myself and clap along with everybody else.
Michael leans into me and I am just about to congratulate him when he says, “well at least now you’ll get to go to a different country.” I turn to look at him, but he has already stood up and walked away to pay for the Caribbean holiday. All I can do is sit here shaking slightly, as I realise that Michael has just bought me a holiday on our first date.
The next few hours pass in a joyful daze as I watch the other items being auctioned, enjoy a magnificent three course dinner and dance with Michael some more. I am actually disappointed when the night ends and we get back into the waiting car outside. It’s only when I sit in the back of the car that I suddenly realise how tired I am and Michael’s phone rings, which means for the entire journey back he is speaking to some business partner. I am glad, as it gives me a chance to just relax and replay what has happened in my head. “What did you think of this evening?” asks Michael suddenly as we pull into his garage. I smile at him.
“I actually really enjoyed myself,” I confirm, and he chuckles in amusement. “Not that I didn’t think I would,” I add quickly, “it was just, I was so nervous; I really wanted your friends to like me.” The chauffeur opens my door and helps me out of the car, I make my way around the car and follow Michael upstairs into the corridor.
“You did more than make my friends like you,” explains Michael, “they were really impressed with you.” He smiles at me as he says it then puts his hand through his hair as though nervous, it’s a trait that I have come to really like.
“I’m glad, I still can’t believe you bought that Caribbean holiday.” It’s true, I’m beyond surprised that he bought that holiday just because I told him I’d never been to the Caribbean; who does that? It’s such an expensive gift. Michael stops at the end of the corridor and turns to face me, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets with boyish charm.
“Well, the Caribbean is a place everyone should visit,” he states, “I thought you might like to take one of your college friends.” I try not to let my disappointment show that he did not buy the holiday for us both to go on, but then I scold myself; it’s a bit too early to be thinking of anything like that. Then again Halley will be delighted once I tell her we’re going on a holiday, but still, it’s a massive gift and he’s already paying me. What if he thinks I now owe him something?
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather keep it for yourself?” I ask. Michael laughs at me and smiles, I suddenly feel a little insulted but then he puts his hand on my shoulder reassuringly and it’s hard to be annoyed with him.
“I’ve been there many times,” he says honestly, “but you’ve just finished your first year of college, that’s something to celebrate. You will love it.” He sounds so kind and sweet I cannot help, but feel he genuinely cares for me and wants me to have this holiday. I quickly brush off the thought of affection though because this is not a normal relationship, and I shouldn’t expect too much from it.
“I don’t even know what to say except thank you,” I say honestly, “no one’s ever done anything so nice for me.” Michael grimaces slightly and I realise that maybe I’ve revealed a little bit too much to him, but instead he moves from against the wall and takes my hand in his. I look down at it for a moment in surprise.
“Well, it’s getting late, you’ll be alright to drive home, right?” he says, “I mean I think you only had the one glass of wine although I could be wrong. If I am, then I will pay for a taxi.” I try to cover my disappointment, I was hoping he would ask me to stay, but then perhaps I am really forward; it was our first function together and I am beginning to think maybe he just wants a sweet innocent friend to accompany him on functions.
“Oh yeah I’ll be fine,” I say trying to sound casual, “I only had the one glass because I didn’t want to get tipsy and embarrass you or something.” He squeezes my hand as if he appreciates the effort and I suddenly get a little butterfly sensation in my stomach, what is wrong with me? I feel like a schoolgirl. Once we get to the front door, I suddenly look around wondering whether any of his staff are around, but then I remember that it’s early in the morning and he probably doesn’t need them in the middle of the night. I return my attention back to Michael and he is looking at me in fascination, I almost want to ask him what he is looking at but then that would probably sound stupid. “Thank you for a lovely evening,” I offer politely.
“You are very welcome,” he replies. Then Michael leans in and for a moment I think he is going for the door handle, but then he tilts his head towards mine and I feel the sheer thrill of anticipation just before his lips meet mine. He kisses me like a gentleman at first, slow and tender with the sweetest hint of passion. Then as we both lose ourselves in the moment, I can feel the passion building until it becomes all consuming. I can barely remember who I am or what I am doing here. All I can feel is Michael’s arms around me and I wrap my arms around his waist. I have never felt like this with anyone before, it’s not just passion I can feel, it’s warmth and tenderness. He’s being so careful in the way he is holding me, like he might break me if he is not careful. No one has ever shown me this much care. Just as I am losing control of all my senses, suddenly he pulls away and I begin to feel a sharp pang of disappointment when I catch the look on his face. Michael is looking at me like he is seeing me for the first time and as he pulls open the door to let me out of the house. I smile, with the tender hint of a promise still dancing on my lips as I make my way towards my beautiful Mercedes parked on the front.
