The Mistress - an Erotic Noir Novel (6 page)

The blonde man stepped in rather sheepishly, making his way
according to her directions after removing his outdoor boots
politely. “Oh, fine,” he began, though the intake of
breath she recognized meant he had an annoying ‘but’ to
follow that would involve a guilt tripping, “though it threw me
not seeing you there.”

“I should have told you,” she agreed, and though she
sounded sympathetic, she certainly didn’t sound guilty. “What
happened with Professor Sinclair anyway? He seemed in a hurry when I
ran into him. He told me that he trusted you’d do a fantastic
job, however,” she smiled a bit with the lie.

Nodding his acceptance he moved into her kitchen. Rather than
seating himself down as a normal guest, he instead went to make the
tea for them both. “Who knows what that man is up to?” he
said. “They’re all off in their own world, Eva. It’s
rare they get anything done,” he complained lightly.

She tut tutted as she settled into the chair, watching him move
about her kitchen with such familiarity, “It’s a good
thing you’re always there to fill the gaps. Besides, with how
flakey he was today, perhaps it’s a sign of things to come for
you this semester. Perhaps he’s just getting older and unable
to teach as he used to.”

It was cruel of her to try to raise his hopes, but she couldn’t
stop herself from toying with the man. She’d known him for so
long, they were practically family in her eyes.

Shrugging off the heavy coat as he went about making her the tea,
he brought over the saucers once ready, resting it down before her.
“That much is true,” he said, spooning up sugar and cream
in the exact helping she preferred. “Though I am really quite
sorry you weren’t there. I had something, ah,” he
stammered, unable to go on, though she knew he had something awkward
to ask. In fact, she’d not seem him in such a state in a long
time and she knew it must be quite personal.

Her brows furrowed, head tilting to the side, “What’s
this about, Martin?” she asked curiously as she blew upon her
tea. Her eyes were wide, and though she wore no makeup, she was still
stunning. Her skin looked bright and fresh, and everything about her
posture spoke to her relaxed state.

Sitting back in his own chair, seemingly trying to hide behind his
tea as he refused to look at her, he struggled for some words. “Ah
well... I was wondering if you’d care to go to the movies
tonight, Eva,” and though that wasn’t an odd request for
friends of any fashion, the fact he tripped over it so much indicated
he meant it as something more substantial than that.

She was surprised by the question and leaned back in her chair, a
soft ‘ah’ parting her lips. “I have plans tonight,”
she said softly. In her younger days she had been malicious with him,
teasing him about his crush constantly. In school their age gap had
seemed much more meaningful, with him in college and her still
working on her admission forms.

Once she started liasoning with her Professors it seemed more
likely, at least for her, except for the nagging past between them.
She had grown past her cruel teen years, and instead felt bad for
him. To be his age and not yet found someone seemed heart-wrenching
to her; to know he was still pining over her was almost unbearable.

Nodding somewhat weakly he sipped his tea—or pretended
to—and said, “Ah, I see. I figured as much.” He
didn’t linger over long before he put the cups back down, “I
shouldn’t have bothered you, Eva. I know you’re busy and
must’ve just had a good excuse for missing. I was worried
anyhow.”

“You always do,” she smiled sadly, placing her tea
aside, and suddenly feeling that guilt he couldn’t illicit in
her earlier. “I promise I’ll make it the next time you
teach, okay? I really would love to see that. And next time you’ll
get a more interesting assignment than first day.”

Looking as if he was about to say something he instead merely
nodded then went for his coat, getting dressed again to go out. “I
do hope you have a good time tonight, Eva. Be safe,” he
cautioned before exiting.

It had put a damper on her mood, but she showed him out cordially
before returning to the task of getting ready. Her thoughts reeled,
and she tried to push the sadness from her mind, but it was under her
skin, nagging at her as she finished styling her hair, making up her
face before slipping into a black cocktail dress. Gems adorned her
neck and wrists, a beautiful barrette holding her brunette tresses
out of her face.

The manor was large and rather old, surprisingly so, for Gregory
Sinclair himself seemed not the type for such a colonial style and
opulent living, with his smart dress and simple manner. Wrought iron
gates kept it off from the rest of the wealthy neighbourhood and
there was a porter at the gates.

She was shown through to the place itself, which was rather busy
with mostly older couples. From out of the crowds Sinclair found her,
“Ahh, miss Perkin’s,” he said, smiling so
pleasantly at her in that subtle way of his. “So glad you could
make it.”

“I couldn’t miss it,” she smiled, her clutch
beautifully matching her gloves and the jewels she wore for the
evening. Eva had a keen eye for fashion, even if her style did tend
to run less in line with the youth. Her hand rested on top of his arm
as she looked around the room, “My, did your wife invite
everyone?”

It was fairly easy to walk through the large main hall without
drawing much attention, there were simply too many high society types
all about them for that. Speaking to her and her alone, Gregory was
soft spoken as always, “I do believe she did, yes.”
Looking around he added, “I despise these things, Eva dear.
Simply awful. I’d much rather take my time with you in the
study to discuss the latest out of Germany.”

“You’re certain you won’t be missed,” she
teased primly, her eyes alight with good humour. She looked so good
on his arm, her dress perfectly shaped to her curvaceous form,
showing off the swell of her rear so delightfully.

For his part his black suit was well fitted, and despite the
stuffy crowd, looked as smart as he was. Sleek, black, well-tailored
and fashionable, not the sort of thing the old socialites tended
towards. “Once we have dinner, Eva, things shall be far too
hectic to notice I’m missing,” with a roll of his eyes he
added, “in this ridiculous old manor with all the attention
upon the hostess, how could I be?” He smiled and patted her arm
around his, “You can hold out that long, I trust?”

“I dressed for the occasion, didn’t I? Still, who will
I be sat next to? Please tell me it won’t be some boorish
animal,” she pleaded with her dark gaze as she licked her lips,
quite aware of the small, subtle innuendo that seemed so innocuous to
all but him.

She could see through his simple, trendy spectacles the glint in
his eyes as he watched her every little motion. Swallowing he led her
into the dining hall, “You’ll sit beside me, Eva dear.
Can’t very well cast my prize student to the wolves, can I?”
He smiled pleasantly as the bell announced that dinner was being
served, quite timely.

“Well, you are tempting fate this evening, my dear
Professor, for how shall I behave myself through what’s sure to
be a delicious and unending meal?” she teased as she gazed
front on, nodding cordially to the guests that looked her way.

The rush of people doing their best to act civil in the face of
hunger and delicious food made things awkward. It was hard to get a
chance to talk with Sinclair through the meal, especially as the
overweight man beside her kept vying for her attention, “So
you’re one of Sinclair’s students?” he’d ask,
following it up with an endless stream of follow-up questions from
his flabby jowls.

One thing she couldn’t help notice during the meal was how
not an ounce of attention was given between the two Sinclair’s.
Well, that and the fact the professors hand found her knee and thigh
beneath the table on multiple occasions.

Each time it brought with it such a thrill and she wished he’d
dare the touch more often. She toyed with the fat man, speaking just
loud enough for he and Sinclair to hear her teach him, at length,
about the Elektra Complex and women’s natural desire to find a
man that reminded them of their father.

She was being quite sincere about it all, though she truly didn’t
need to get into such detailed descriptions of case studies over the
years, some of which were obviously made up.

The rotund man was flustered, red in the face but most definitely
interested when Sinclair leaned over and whispered to her softly.
“Meet me in the library in twenty minutes,” then got up
from his seat. As he left the room she noticed Mrs. Sinclair watching
him, her own short, grey curled hair tightly cut as she got up and
followed after him.

Next to her the large man said, “You should think about
coming to work for my offices when you’re done with schooling,
little lady,” offering her a big grin.

“At the rate of new discoveries and theses being proposed, I
don’t know I’ll ever be done with my education,”
she smiled brightly, her eyelashes fluttering. “Besides, I
would hope that I’d eventually be able to find a nice man to
settle down with by then.”

Even she was shocked by her brazenness, and her cheeks reddened as
she reached for her glass of champagne. Her conversation with Martin
had left her feeling a fair bit more aggressive than she originally
realized.

“But that’s a topic for another day,” she smiled
brightly, trying to mitigate the damage. Even as she conversed with
the man, she was quite aware of what happened around her, and
wondered at what was going on between the married couple.

The large man was disappointed, though as the guests were getting
up and going about their business it became easy to get lost in the
crowd again. She knew from his words before that the library was at
the back of the manor, though that was really it.

She excused herself quite primly, taking her champagne with her
and finishing it off quickly. The flush of it went through her body
as she made her way through to crowd. She worried that perhaps Mrs.
Sinclair would be in his study with him, and so she stepped carefully
once she left the din of the crowd, thankful that she wore a pair of
heels without a pronounced click on the fine wooden floor.

Skulking through the halls of the large manner she managed to keep
herself surprisingly quiet despite the Champaign and her attire. She
could hear heated discussions coming from up the stairs near the open
door to a very comfortable sized library, but no sign of anyone. The
style of the room inside immediately suggested to her Gregory.

Finding it empty, and with the champagne emboldening her, she
perked her ears to the sound of the argument. She was normally a
curious woman, but she was usually polite and discreet. With his
skipping class this afternoon, however, she couldn’t help but
feel her desire to know what happened pique.

She could hear nothing from where she was so she began to creep up
the stairs. It was then, however, her subtlety betrayed her, for the
boards creaked and groaned noisily despite their expensive old wood
look, and the arguing upstairs seemed to halt at the sound of it.

Her face flushed brightly and she stayed absolutely still, her
hand on the railing. She held down the giggle that wanted to erupt
from her pretty lips, her wide eyes moving to the top of the stairs
to see if someone could see her.

Nothing. She could make out no sign of anyone, though there was
the faint sound of murmurings, whatever discussion that was happening
now quieter than before.

She held her breath for what seemed like a minute, considering.
She could return back to the party, or she could risk being caught.
Stepping along the side of the wall, she looked almost comical as she
tried to climb the stairs sideways, ignoring the groaning point in
the centre.

It was futile however, for already being heard once she was caught
this time. Though fortune seemed to favour her for it was Gregory’s
face that peered down the stairs at her. Looking surprised, he gave
her a curt wave back towards the library then glanced away at
something before saying. “Return to the kitchen, no staff in
this area of the manor,” covering for her.

He could see the disappointment and excitement on her face as she
moved back down the stairs, not bothering to silence the sound as she
made her way to the study. Suddenly finding herself bored and too
tipsy to even read one of the tantalizing books that surrounded her.
Looking into her purse, she instead pulled out her compact and tried
to apply her lipstick with as even hand as she could muster.

It was a little longer than originally intended, but finally
Gregory appeared, smiling as if amused but looking a bit perturbed.
“You are a daring one, Eva,” he said approaching her,
reaching his two hands to her arms. “Skulking about like a
burglar in this old mausoleum,” his dislike for the manor rich
on his voice again.

She laughed it off, returning her makeup to her purse and
standing, “Oh, how can you blame me for being curious? You’ve
been off all day, and I can hardly help wanting to know what’s
happening,” she teased. Her face was flushed, and she couldn’t
hide the embarrassment at being caught, even as she tried to be
nonchalant.

Something was obviously distracting him but he gestured towards
the curtained glass doors, “If you’re up for a quick trek
to the guest house, I have something very special prepared there for
us, Eva.” He flashed a certain look at her, some of his old
self returning. “The walkway is cleared, so no need to worry
about snow.” He pulled off his own jacket, then swept it around
her shoulders, “Here. I’ll meet you there in a few.”

She looked up at him, shaking her head, “I know I shouldn’t
be so curious about you, but you make it so tantalizing to know
more.” It was almost breathless the way she said it, but she
quickly turned from him and made her way through the chill.