Handing her keys to the valet, she turns and walks up to the doorway of the elegant hotel. The doorman tips his hat and smiles as he opens the door for the woman. "Good afternoon, miss. Will you be staying with us or can I direct you to one of our restaurants or other services?"
Keeping her head down, she speaks quietly, "I'm meeting someone here, thank you, though."
"No problem, miss, you'll find a lovely seating area should your appointment be late."
She smiles briefly, not wanting to meet his gaze. She walks into the lobby and looked around. There is a beautiful fountain directly ahead with a small restaurant set up to look like an outdoor café on a Parisian avenue - and a larger, more formal restaurant directly behind it. On the other side of the large room are a small newsstand and the concierge desk. Groups of chairs and tables fill the rest of the room, many occupied by businessmen discussing the latest stockmarket trends or weary mothers trying to control their children while their husbands grabbed snacks or trinkets from the shops. There are a few stray loners, most of them men, traveling alone, reading a paper, talking on their cell phones, nervously looking at their watches. A few couples walk about hand in hand, discussing the nightlife attractions they would soon see, laughing and smiling at each other.
Her eyes wander about the room...briefly looking at each man, wondering if he was the one. She shivers under her jacket, momentarily rethinking the decision she had made to meet him here. She knows that she still has time to back down, to turn around and walk back to get her car, telling the doorman that her appointment had cancelled. She turns and looks to the street... her heart pounding in her chest...but not from fear. She has waited so long for this day and she realizes, standing there, looking around, that her heart pounds from excitement, not fear.
He had told her to go to the café and order a drink, being sure to be seated at the very edge of the seating area facing the hotel desk. She walks slowly over to the hostess and requests the seat he had mentioned. The tables in the café are high rise pub tables and the accompanying stools are armless and very comfortable looking. She hesitates as she sits in the chair he had chosen for her, realizing that there was no tablecloth and no way to hide her actions from the room she would be facing almost directly into. She thinks about changing seats, to one slightly less noticeable, but at that moment she can almost feel him watching her from the lobby, and she knows there was no turning back.
She orders a peach Bellini, hoping the spirits will soothe her and calm her, relieving her inhibitions for what was to come. She takes a piece of paper from her bag, reading it briefly, her face flushing as the waitress delivers her drink. She looks out across the lobby, thankful that but for a few people, the lobby has cleared. All of the children have been taken to their rooms or their cars and the few people left seemed involved in their own doings and too busy to observe her.
She takes a long gulp of her drink, feeling the alcohol burn her throat, glad she had not eaten much for dinner and hoping the spirits would hit her quickly. She sets the glass down and slowly spreads her legs below the table, blushing at the thought of anyone noticing her actions. He had insisted that she not wear any panties, and the height of the bistro seating left her private parts at eye level to anyone seated in the lobby.
She looks around warily, a little calmer that she has not yet been noticed; at least not by anyone but Him. He had told her that he would be watching her, unseen for the most part. He would not tell her what he would be wearing, but he demanded that she tell him of her dress down to the smallest detail.
She closes her eyes, mentally aware of his presence, and takes a deep breath as she slips her hand into her lap, pulling her short skirt up even higher. As she slides her hand between her legs, she raises her glass again, trying to appear as normal as possible. A moment later, she almost drops her drink, as she hears a man clear his throat only a few feet away. Her eyes fly open, only to see him seated with his back to her, still clearing his throat innocently.
She breathes a sigh of relief, too soon in coming, as her gaze travels to the man's left and she sees another man smiling appreciatively at her; nudging his companion to watch as she toys with herself in front of them. She stops the movement of her hand, not leaving her lap, but unnerved at the thought of two strangers watching her touch herself in such an intimate way, and in such a public place. As the men start quietly smirking, another turns his head to follow their gaze, and she is met with another appreciative smile. She wants to turn and run, but she knows it is too late, she is committed...and contrary to everything she believes to be proper and sensible...she is excited.
She finishes her drink, and steps down from the stool. Dropping her napkin, just as He had directed her to... and bending over to pick it up, she feels her skirt hike high on her thighs, feeling the air as it brushes her wetness, knowing that if the men are still watching, they will be getting quite the show.
She stands up and steps to the cashier, paying for her drink and walking past the men who had been watching her. They beam as she went by, and she manages a weak smile, feeling their eyes burning into her as she makes her way to the concierge desk.
"Yes, Miss, can I help you?" the young man says from his post behind the desk.
"My name is Cate O'Connell. I believe you have a package for me?" the woman says shyly.
"Yes, Ms. O'Connell. It's right here. Mr. Smith left it for you just a short while ago. Please let me know if I can be of further service to you." The man hands her a small envelope. She takes it, her hand trembling slightly.
"Thank you, I will." She says as she turns to walk away. Opening the envelope she finds a room key card...and a note that says, "The room number is 1225. It is the last room on the right on the 12th floor. Prepare yourself and I will be there shortly. By the way, lovely dress – and the Bellini looked scrumptious." It was signed, "Master"
Her eyes dart around the room, looking for him, sensing his presence. She walks quickly to the elevator, still unnerved by the knowledge that he is watching her every move and she has no clue as to what he looks like.
