A DARK STAR STORY
THE COLLECTIVE - CHAPTER 11 COLLABORATOR
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Looking into her eyes as I sit behind the vast mahogany desk that sits as a centrepiece to the office situated on the mezzanine level of the Dark Star night club I watch her reaction.
Her eyes fall once more to the contents revealed from beneath the deep purple tissue paper that lines the lidded box I had slid across the desk no more than two minutes previously.
"This... I mean this certainly leaves little to the imagination," Ari Walker-Smith offers a little uncertainly.
"It's a custom piece... made especially for you." I offer trying my best to subdue the grin that plays across my lips.
She folds the tissue paper back over the contents of the box and sets the black gloss effect lid back securely in position.
"I have your word Hector... no harm will come to me," she offers finding a little confidence and composure. I take pleasure in just how off guard I appear to have genuinely caught her now that the nature of my intention has been made abundantly clear to her.
"You've my word..." I confirm, "...you must by now trust that I am a man of honourable intentions"
"The contents of this box suggest otherwise," Ari offers with a blunt, yet devilishly laced response, given the circumstance. "I'm not sure I can trust your intentions for me."
Her ice blue eyes meet mine as she sets her elbows on the surface for the desk, interlacing her fingers she rests her slender jaw on top her hands and looks up at me from behind her platinum blonde fringe.
"I won't harm a hair on your head Arabella," I softly state. "That's not my style."
As she keeps her eyes locked on me, her mind no doubt dwelling on my now clearly defined expectations I know I make a promise that from recent experience alone I may not be able to keep.
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~β’ Two months ago β’~
The coffee machine hisses and spews steam into the air almost in protest.
Taking a sip from the Ecuadorean Coffee I appreciate the subtle flavours of the expertly brewed strong black liquid. I glance to the door as I watch her enter. She doesn't notice me, as she slips a royal blue jacket from her shoulders as she hurries behind the counter to assist the attractive mixed raced employee who had served me ten minutes ago.
Dressed all in black, a tight little black t-shirt accompanies a short black skirt over black opaque tights that accentuate long legs that meet little zip up ankle boots. The counter obscures her from my view but I could not help noticing her attire having just witnessed her enter the coffee shop set in the middle of the plaza. The name of which offers no clear identity to the owner even as I watch her diligently assist in clearing down the long queue that had gradually formed. It was by pure chance that I had seen her at the premises only twenty-four hours earlier.
Prior to that one of the last times I had seen Jamie Pierce she had been knelt at my feet in the darkness of the Dark Star. I had rejected her submission to me, the memory of the exquisite oral pleasure her mouth had given could not be forgotten. Despite her submission and the likely precursor that had been as a result of the little blue tablet had dissolved in her stomach. I had chased her off. Harangued her out of the night club in the midst of the after hours sordid and regrettable experience that had played out as I hate sought to curry favour.
The same night I had betrayed Laura Mancini as the vile Sergei Golgacev had taken advantage of Laura's unintentionally sedated state. The same night I had regrettable taken advantage of Laura to fulfil my own dark desires of the beautiful eldest daughter of my long time friend and compatriot. A guilt I had carried for weeks and months afterwards, a guilt doubled down upon by her subsequent disappearance.
Continuing to watch Jamie Pierce as I finish my coffee I notice on a moment of rest bite as her colleague nods in my direction. I watch Jamie look up in my direction a weak smile etching her lips as we make eye contact. My eyes do not leave her as she steps from behind the counter and makes her way tentatively towards me.
"Good morning, Jamie," I offer pleasantly as she sashays through the tables and chairs towards me, "How are you?"
"Hector," she meekly offers as if she genuinely has to recall my name.
"Yes," I offer with a broad smile as I reach over to pull out the chair next to me in the window seat.
Jamie takes my unspoken hint and takes a seat next to me crossing her toned long nylon covered legs over one another.
"It's... it's been a while" she nervously offers whilst pushing slightly wavy light ginger hair off her pale complexion to tuck it behind her left ear. "How are you?"
We had never truly interacted, other than that fateful night in the club, I was sure she would recognise me and my close relationship to Laura alone from my occasional presence at the infamous night club where she had worked in various roles since the early tenure of Logan Hughes. I was certain she harboured many of the darkest secrets of the venue as a consequence, including the disappearance of Laura and the subsequent undoubtedly linked return of Hughes a little over twelve months ago.
The last time I had seen Jamie Pierce had been in the darkness of the alleyway at the rear of the venue as she had vehemently denied any knowledge of Lauras disappearance. I had no doubt she had lied to me even if I could not tell if she was directly implicated in any factor of Laura's disappearance.
"I'm well," I offer on a deliberate pause that undoubtedly makes her feel even more uncomfortable, "You look well... and this place... well it's far removed from your previous employment."
"It was time to move on," Jamie offered barely looking up towards me.
"I'm sure.... Although I suspect by the state of the place you left behind that these days young Ari could benefit from your knowledge and experience," I offer noting how she makes to respond but stops herself short.
"You're the owner... I assume Mr Hughes paid you a considerable loyalty payment to be able to afford such a place as this," I state looking deliberately around the pristinely equipped and furnished coffee shop.
"I... I had savings... and an inheritance," Jamie offers, and I notice for the first time I believe what sounds like an Australian undertone to her accent.
"I'm sure you did" I offer not convinced by her explanation. "I'm glad I found the place... that's genuinely the best coffee I've had in a long time... that I didn't make myself."