No Trespassing Ch 08

Author Comments

I want to thank everyone who has read this series and/or taken the time to leave a comment. I appreciate the words of encouragement and the feedback on the details.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

The series starts as lesbian nonconsent/reluctance. A lesbian goes off the grid for vacation. She seeks shelter from a storm at what is assumed to be a seldomly used cabin but is caught when the owner shows up unexpectedly. The years of suppressing her submissive tendencies bubble to the surface as she is forced to accept punishment for trespassing and settling the tab for staying in the cabin.

If this is offensive to you, please find another story. If you read on, please enjoy and comments are always welcome.

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Will a bad idea have a Silver Lining?

The longer the woman watch me, the harder it became to breath. I held the door handle in a death grip. Every breath hurt as panic clawed up my throat.

How did she find me? Was she going to blackmail me? Force me to be her full-time slave? It would be too obvious to haul me out of my own office by my hair. Maybe she wanted money after all. I mentally slammed the door on the questions ricocheting around my mind.

The blood pounding in my ears made it almost impossible to make out her reply.

"I am here to meet Mr. Simon."

Breath, I just needed to focus on inhaling, and exhaling. Count to four.

If extortion was her game, she wouldn't be in my office. It was illogical to challenge someone on their own territory, much less in a public place. I bit the inside of my lip, summoning the best poker face I had. If it wasn't to blackmail me for sex, then maybe she'd come for the money.

But if that was the case, why the whole charade of emails? Especially, as I had already agreed to meet her again.

Her stride was confident as she walked back to the table. Her arms relaxed by her sides. She didn't even spare me a glance out of the corner of her eye. When she turned to face me, you would have thought we were two strangers with no past of mistress and slut.

This was my firm. She was here to hire us for something.

She glanced at a gold watch on her right wrist. Not a modern day trackable one, but an old fashion gold linked watch, bigger than a woman's watch. Dark blue face with gold numerals. Sentimental value.

"I don't have a lot of extra time today." The normal warmth of her voice was absent. Her tone flat and factual laced with edges of ice queen.

I exhaled quietly, glancing down the hallway towards the breakroom. There were no signs of Agnes or Jamie. I pushed the door closed behind me, sealing us off from the outer office.

The emerald eyes I found so alluring in the cabin were hard. There was no hint of mischief or amusement. She placed her hands flat on the black leather briefcase.

The oxygen in the room slowly returned. I tossed my notebook on the table and slid my left hand in my pocket, pressing my fingernails into my palm.

I'd been dreaming too much of this mysterious woman. The promise of a meeting in a few weeks kept me in a perpetual state of horniness and now here she was, in my reality. My world blurred between the strange events in the cabin and my job as a private investigator. A calm steady rhythm, one in which I was in complete control of was now on a collision course with events I would prefer to remain hidden.

"Mr. Simon is delayed. How may I help you?" I was Impressed my voice was steady and confident.

After years of investigations, I'd learn to think on my feet. Especially, when I was caught off guard. In these occasions, you put the challenger on the spot. Turn the tables.

"How long?"

"I can't say. But I assure you, I'm quite capable of - "

She waved a hand. "I'm sure you are, but I've a tight schedule today. My appointment is with Mr. Simon, and I prefer to speak with him. Not his assistant."

The muscle in my jaw throbbed as I clenched my teeth. When men assumed a woman wasn't capable of handling investigations it was frustrating yet amusing when I put them in their place. But when it came from a woman, it never failed to amaze me at the double standard.

How dare she? Coming from a lawyer at a high-end firm, no less, sent me over the top. How dare she assume that I was not as qualified as my brother.

A knock on the door interrupted my reply.

"Sorry to interrupt, Ms. Simon," Agnes said entering the room and placed a cup on the table. "Here's your tea, Ms. Rossi."

"Thank you." Ms. Rossi smiled at Agnes before she disappeared quickly as she arrived.

Her eyes glanced toward my left as she bit her lip. "You didn't tell me you were married."

"Would it have mattered?" I balled my hand hiding in my pocket.

"Yes," she replied too quickly.

"Really?"

"Most women offer that as a defense."

The admission left me speechless. So, there were other women she captured and forced to make payment through being her slut. I pushed away the disappointment that I was the only one.

We stared at each other for a long moment.

Before I could ask what she did with the women who cried husband, the door opened again.

"So sorry, Ms. Rossi," Jamie said.

His dark blue suit jacket was unbuttoned to reveal a light blue collared shirt and maroon tie. He shook her hand.

For the first time since entering the room, I felt like I could breathe again. Jamie to the rescue, saving his big sister even though he'd not realized he was saving me.

"So, catch me up." He grinned at me, seemingly not noticing the tension in the room.

"Nothing to catch up. Ms. Rossi didn't submit an intake form and refused to talk to me since her appointment was with you."

"It's nothing personal." She took a step back from my brother. Her eyes dropped briefly towards the ring on his left hand. "This is just a sensitive matter. The fewer people involved the better."

I picked up my notebook and turned to leave, careful to keep my left hand in my pocket. Let her wonder for a few weeks.

"It's just that Mr. Simon was highly recommended as the best computer forensic investigator who can work quickly and discreetly."

Turn the handle, all I had to do was open the door and run from the room. Don't engage, just pretend she didn't say anything. I was grateful she couldn't see my reaction. Not even my best poker face would have concealed the shock of her statement.

"Come again?" Jamie asked. I'd never wanted to kick him so much as I did now.

Before she could provide more details, I turned back. "Who's the referral?"

She glanced at me briefly, before focusing on Jamie. "It's confidential. But you were highly recommended."

"The firm was recommended or Mr. Simon specifically?" I asked.

"Both." She finally looked at me. "Why?"

"Who's the referral?"

"As I said that's confidential."

I shook my head then looked at Jamie. His eyebrows drew together silently asking what was wrong with me.

Landing a case from Ms. Rossi's firm was huge. It would have the potential to lead to more. We both knew how to play the game, but something felt off if the referral recommended Jamie over me. If it was a former client, they would not have recommended my brother for an area I excelled at.

"The referral is immaterial. I could have just as easily lied and said I found Charlie Simon via a google search." She opened the case and pulled out a manilla file.

Both of us stared at her. I felt frozen to the spot. She assumed Charlie was a man.

Jamie cleared his throat. "I think there's been some mistake."

"Are you not Charlie Simon?" The corner of her lips turned down as she looked from Jamie to me and back again.

"I am not," Jamie answered.

"I see." She dropped the file back into the case but left it open. "Then may I speak with him?"

"You're a lawyer from Rossi and Mancini and yet you don't know who you're appointment is with?" I asked. "Don't most lawyers do some basic due diligence?"

The jaw muscle on the left side pulsed. "I really don't have time for twenty questions. This is a delicate case which I need to be handled discreetly."

"The partners at this firm don't work in a vacuum, Ms. Rossi." Jamie took a step towards me as if sensing I may need protection. "If we accept a case in this office, the partners, at a minimum, are involved."

"I'm sure more eyes works for your other cases, but I really need information contained to a bare minimum. I would prefer only the one working the case know the details."

"We come highly recommend and yet you don't even know who you are meeting with," I said.

The emerald eyes locked onto me. "Simon Investigations is a small, but reputable firm known for being the best in mergers and acquisitions and digital forensics among other niche markets. As this is a highly sensitive matter in which I don't want the subjects being investigated to find out, a very limited search was conducted beyond what was on the public website. Of which, I might add, there is no mention of staff or photos of staff on the site."

"Pictures of us would be counterproductive to surveillance." I rebutted.

"Great. Now that we all agree, I have no knowledge of what Charlie looks like, and you have confirmed you're not him," she nodded to Jamie, "may I know when I can meet with him?"

In all my years of conducting interviews and talking with clients, none were as strange as this one. But as I looked at Jamie, she did have a point. We decided years ago that no photos of us or the staff would be posted. Not only would it hinder surveillance opportunities, but more importantly, it provided cover for me.

"You can't." I turned and retreated to my office. I had no logical reason to say no. Just instinct or maybe it was the fact that the woman in my office wanting to hire me for an actual job, was also the one I was giving permission to dominate me in a few weeks to pay off a fictious debt.

I leaned my head against the window, closing my eyes wondering if this was a dream or nightmare. I was going to wake up any minute and realize my mistress was not in my office trying to hire me.

By the time someone knocked on the door a short while later, my hands had stopped shaking. The words on the monitor lacked meaning as my mind kept drifting to Ms. Rossi and her case.

Jamie stuck his head in. "You okay?" He closed the door before taking a seat in front of the desk.

"Other than someone assuming a man is better at doing my job than me? Yes." I glanced at the manilla folder in his hands. "No offense."

The corner of Jamie's lips quirked up. "None taken. Amazing how women don't realize they play into the stereotypes."

I leaned back. If he didn't want to mention why he carried the same looking folder as Ms. Rossi had, far be it from me to ask.

"So, um," he crossed and recrossed his legs. "After you left - "

"Did you tell her I was Charlie?"

He shook his head. "No, but I did convince her to provide some details."

"Some?"

"She didn't want to give any more than was necessary in order to secure a meeting with

Charlie

."

I sucked in my lower lip, butterflies taking flight in my stomach.

"Highly sensitive to the subjects being in close proximity to the firm. They would pick up on activity not in the norm. The subjects are computer savvy and will most likely spot a trace or unauthorized inquiries. Discretion is a must. And you know, going above and beyond may lead to more work in the future."

"Seems a bit cloak and dagger to me." I paced back over to the window.

The sun had managed to get through the scattered clouds, reflecting against the glass. The metal ledge was warm when I braced my hands on it.

As if he could read my mind, he said, "This is not the same thing, Charlie. Hell, you weren't even out of college yet. Besides," I could hear his smile, "this might get you through the mid-life doldrums."

I ignored the intentional jab over my recent mood swings. This whole situation had shade of the past written all over it, well, minus the professional part. The mystery was what drew me in, my naivete is what got me lost. But I wasn't naïve anymore and I saw red flags for the warnings they were.

"It may seem odd on the surface, but you know lawyers. Such a fine line sometimes on what they can and can't do. This just happens to be bigger than our other lawyers. I think it's worth a conversation."

"Really?" I turned, leaning back against the window and crossing my arms over my chest. "What makes you think this is worth more time than we've already spent?"

He placed the folder on the desk before walking over to me. "The retainer alone is worth another meeting. And aside from that, something tells me, this is the challenge you've been waiting for. A puzzle needing delicate hands. It's just business. Nothing personal."

I choked on a laugh as he pulled me into a hug. If he only knew just how personal this was.

*****

The manilla folder Jamie placed on my desk a couple days before, now lay on the car seat next to me as I drove downtown. I was proud that I ignored it for as long as I did. But annoyingly, Jamie was right. The note with the retainer fee was more that we'd ever made on one case. Hell, it was almost five case fees combined.

I knew the amount was over the top. It was meant to get my attention. Or whatever it was that needed ferreting out. Something extremely sensitive or maybe dangerous or both.

The dangerous part didn't seem right though. Based on the research about Rossi and Mancini, the firm portfolio was pretty straight forward. The standard fare of divorces and accidents, a division for torts. A national firm representing several high-end clients from biotech to cutting edge software, and media outlets. Something felt familiar about them, but I couldn't place my finger on it.

I pulled into the parking garage of an average city building. Several offices occupied the building and only the top two floors were occupied by Rossi and Mancini. The rest was taken up by an architectural firm, an accounting office, and a fintech company. It could easily be missed in the crowd.

Unusual for a high price law office. That impression evaporated the moment I stepped off the elevator on the tenth floor. Thick wall to wall blue carpet absorbed the office sounds. The small lobby was silent. Not even a tv in the corner to help visitors pass the time.

The upright hardwood chairs looked uncomfortable and the couple of tables with a small lamp were dust and magazine free. Guess their clientele didn't wait in the lobby for long.

The fortress gate in disguise as a front desk was all sleek and polished cherry wood. The gate keeper sat regally behind the desk. Her black hair swept back in a tight chignon. The off-white dress suit was tailored to fit her perfectly.

"I'm have an appointment with Ms. Rossi," I said, fighting the feeling of addressing Oz.

Without acknowledging me, she glanced at an oversized monitor. "Name."

Apparently, hospitality was not required for the gate keeper position. "Charlie Simon."

The perfectly sculpted black eyebrows jump for a nano second. It was the only sign she was surprised. No doubt she was expecting a man. And deep down, I was happy to know I would be able to catch Ms. Rossi off guard as well.

She picked up a black handset and waited a second. "You're ten o'clock is here, Ms. Rossi."

"Follow me." She stood to her giant height, tugging on the end of her coat before leading me down a long plush hallway lined with offices on either side. No cubes for this place. Floor to ceiling glass windows with full length blinds. Solid wood doors. The whole floor was silent, and I wondered at the expense of sound proofing.

As the gate keeper stopped at an open door, I slid my left hand in my pocket. "Thank you," I said to her retreating back.

Of course she'd have a corner office. Why would I expect anything less?

I heard the sigh from across the room before I stepped over the threshold.

Let the charade begin.

"Is this like the Angles? Never get to meet the man in person. Just his associates."

I turned to close the door, hiding my smile and tamping down my attraction. She had no right to look super seductive in business attire. By the time I turned around, the smile was gone. Professional Charlie was on the job.

The office was overly large with a couch on the left side and a coffee table centered in front of it. Two large black guest chairs faced her desk and to my right was a small round table with two grey cloth chairs on either side overlooking the city skyline. I wondered where she hid the scotch.

The bookcases behind her held only books and magazines. No personal touches, photos or tiny knickknacks. This was a place for business and only business.

"It never ceases to amaze me how women never think other women are capable of performing the same jobs as men." I stopped in front of her desk between the two chairs.

"On the contrary, I think very highly of most women. As I'm sure you've picked up on by now, I'm not prone to assumptions without some supporting facts. As for Charlie, if he didn't want more details, he could have just phoned it in. If he isn't interested, he didn't need to send one of his partners." She clasped her hands together on the desk, raising one thin blonde eyebrow.

How could she look more sexier with one facial movement? My heart raced and I wondered how she'd respond if I leaned over the desk and kissed her.

"Or are you here to cancel our agreement?"

I dropped the folder onto the desk. "There really isn't anything you've provided, except for a sticky note with a lot of zeros on it and vague words of strictly confidential due to personnel concerns. Hard to determine if you need a PI at all."

"So, you are assuming I'm not educated enough to know what type of investigator I need?"

"I didn't say that. Most people -"

"Of which I am not." Her lips thinned and her eyes darkened.

" -- have no clue what fields make up the private investigation world." I finished as if she hadn't interrupted me.

"Why is this such a problem Ms. Simon? It's a legitimate request to talk directly to the best person for the job. One who has come highly recommended and to have them decide if this is a case worth pursuing."

"Do you often meet with clients without basic information? Without your assistant vetting them?"

The muscle in her jaw flexed. She stood, placing her fingertips on the desktop. Her silk hunter green shirt hugged in all the right places.

I forced myself to hold her gaze and not look at her very kissable lips. This was no time for distractions. This was business and I needed to stay grounded, not floating away on fantasies.

"You haven't answered my question. Is this just an excuse to cancel our original agreement?"

It never occurred to me to cancel our agreement. I pushed away the unexpected sadness at her thought of why I was here.

"No."

"Then is there something wrong with him? If he can't take on another case, he can just say so. Or is it this company isn't what it appears to be? Maybe the game of charades is how you waste your time, but I don't appreciate wasting mine."

"With all the inhouse PI's you have, why come to us at all?"

"I cannot provide more details without an NDA. And the NDA will only be provided to the person performing the job."

"I saw no NDA in the file."

"Why go to the lengths to draw one up if this goes no further?"

I let the question hang in the air. "So, you're investigating someone or ones within the firm. Otherwise, you would use your internal team. You have a mole of some sort with finances or other sensitive data, otherwise you wouldn't need a digital investigator. Although there may be more to it and without knowing who is or is not involved with something not quite right you can't talk to anyone inside the walls."