Touching Angel's Desires (10 page)

“Okay, that’s enough. Can you leave the room, please?” Angel heard from
Gillian.

Angel stopped, stunned. She opened her eyes and stared at Gillian, hardly
able to believe what she heard. Angel could tell by her expression Gillian
meant exactly what she had just ordered her to do.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Yes, get off my husband,” she said abruptly. Angel bit her tongue.
The customer was always right, she reminded herself.

Angel did as ordered and climbed off Greg. She sat on the edge of
the bed and pushed her feet into her boots, then quickly zipped up her dress
again. Gillian said not a word.

Angel grabbed her favourite whip—they weren’t going to get to play
with that while she wasn’t there—left the room and stood in the corridor,
staring at the door. What had she done wrong? Why had Gillian stopped the
entertainment mid-flow? Not only that, she was still horny—her juices still
dripped down her legs. She could hear nothing from within the room, even when
she put her ear to the keyhole. The thought that Gillian might open the door
and find her still there, sent her stomping down the corridor to the top of the
stairs.

She looked down at the reception area, which was teeming with guests.
She really wasn’t in the mood to stop and chat, but there was no other way
downstairs, unless she wanted to go all the way round the other side of the
building, down the stairs there, and back again. Her blood pumped fast around
her body and she tightened her fists, wishing she could just go back and punch
bloody Gillian bloody Matthews in the face. Well, she couldn’t just stand here.
She made her way down the staircase, her step brisk and business-like, brushing
past people and giving only very brief replies to those who greeted her. Away
from the throng, she headed to her office. She flung open the door, almost ran
inside, and slammed the door behind her, leaning back against the old oak door
of the calm, dark room.

Chapter Three

“Angel?” The voice coming from the other side of the door sounded
like Shannon

“
What?
” she screamed,
unzipping her dress and tossing it through the open door of the bedroom. She
pulled off her boots and flung them against the wall. They fell to the floor,
leaving a black mark on the cream wallpaper. She peeled off the hold-ups,
struggling to stand upright while removing them and launched them at the bin,
missing. They lay in a crumpled heap on the carpet. Nothing assuaged her anger.

“Angel?” she heard again. This had better be important. She stalked
into the bedroom and grabbed a light robe from the back of the door. She heard
the office door opening as she wrapped it round herself, and Shannon poked her
head around the bedroom door.

“
What?
” Angel repeated.
Shannon entered the room looking concerned and not a little fearful.

“Is everything all right?”

“Does it bloody well look like it?” Angel said, staring at Shannon.
“She is a complete fucking bitch and I swear to God, if I see her again, this
mouth will be running out of control. I have never in my life experienced such
a stuck-up bitch like her. ‘
Oooh
, I get everything I
request,’” Angel said in mimicry. “Well I can tell you now she isn’t getting any
more special treatment from me, you, or the bloody rat that is running around in
the dungeon. She has just about blown everything.”

“What happened?” Shannon asked, her voice calming. Angel wasn't in
the mood to be calmed. She wanted to wallow in her fury. She ignored Shannon
and stormed into the bathroom. She jumped in the shower and began to scrub
herself hard, determined to remove every trace of his scum from her body.

A few minutes later, clean and a tiny bit less furious, Angel
re-entered the bedroom where Shannon still stood, looking concerned.

“I’m fine,” Angel said. “I just need a bloody good stiff drink,
which I am going to get right now. I gather everything was okay, while I was completely
wasting my time and effort?”

“Yes, nothing to report.”

“Wonderful,” she replied, heavy on the sarcasm. She watched Shannon
bite her lip and felt a little guilty. It was hardly her fault. She didn’t
deserve to be the butt of Angel’s ire. “Sorry, Shannon. I’m sure you’ve done a
great job. I’ll be okay. You go on back to reception.”

Shannon nodded and gave her a hint of a smile before leaving.

Angel put on some high waist trousers, a teal shirt and black boots.
She completely cleaned and redid her face. On went her smoky eye colour,
eyeliner, and thick, black mascara teamed this time with a dark maroon shade of
lipstick. She brushed her hair again and made her way to the bar, desperate for
a good stiff drink.

She arrived at the bar. The barman came over instantly.

“Double vodka and coke,” she snapped, drumming her fingers on the
bar while he made it. She took the whole lot down in one mouthful, and slammed
the glass back on the bar top. The barman took the glass and raised his
eyebrows in query. “Another!” she ground out.

He poured another stiff shot. She gulped the drink down, then took a
long deep breath before placing the glass down more gently this time. She
closed her eyes, feeling the alcohol quickly spreading through her bloodstream.
She debated a third, but three doubles in the space of five minutes was a bit
much, even for her.

Instead, she left the restaurant, quickly striding down the
corridor, so much anger still raging around her body. Maybe she should take up
boxing or something. Fists clenching with frustrated rage, she headed back to
the reception area. Shannon instantly saw her and rose to her feet, an anxious
look on her face.

“I have had a complaint…from Gillian,” she told Angel.

“
What?
” Angel almost
screamed.

“She…she said that apparently she asked you to leave the room, not
to disappear totally.” Shannon’s voice almost disappeared as she imparted this
last
tidbit
.

“I beg your pardon? She never mentioned I was to stand around and
wait for her,” Angel bit out.

“Well, that was what you were meant to do,” Shannon said, looking
terrified.

“So, can I read fucking minds now? Get the bitch to my office
immediately.” Angel stormed to her office, boiling with rage. She slammed the
door. Anger consumed her body, and she let out a wild impotent sound of fury.
She paced up and down the floor longing to scream, hit something,
do
something with the aggression
circulating around her body. She looked around for something to throw. She
picked up one of the figurines from the shelf, but her common sense over-ruled
and reminded her that it was one of her favourite pieces. She placed it carefully
back and put her hands to her face, taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself
down.

Somehow she had to handle the situation professionally. That was easier
said than done. She might have had problems in the past, but none that had actually
involved her personally. Especially when she knew she had put on a good show.
Gillian had never mentioned she wanted her to wait. She’d stopped Angel
mid-show, frustrating enough in itself, and now she had the gall to complain.
Why the hell didn’t she just ask her to wait in the room? That wouldn’t have
bothered her in the slightest. Or have the courtesy to tell her at the
beginning what she’d had in mind.

A knock came at the door. Angel grabbed a bottle of water, and took
a gulp. How should she handle the woman? Back down again to keep her custom, or
tell her what she really wanted to tell her? She sat behind her desk, feigning
a calmness she did not feel.

“Come in,” she called out, opening her laptop as she did so.

The door opened. Gillian stalked in, and stood tall, halfway between
the door and the desk. Angel pretended to type at her laptop, not looking up,
although she watched Gillian out of the corner of her eye.

She kept the woman waiting for a few seconds before she finally
looked up.

“Ah, Gillian,” she said. “Please, close the door.” She watched
gleefully as the woman scowled before turning back and closing the office door.
She wiped the smile off her face and put on a concerned look as Gillian came
back and stood before her desk. “I believe that you have a complaint to make.”

“Yes, I have.”

“May I ask why?” Angel asked, maintaining the polite façade,
although inside she wanted to kick Gillian’s smug face in and physically throw
her out the damn building.

“Well, firstly, I never asked you to wander off. I found that
extremely rude,” Gillian said, fisting her hands on her hips.

“I’m terribly sorry, I must have misunderstood. You asked me to
leave the room. I don’t recall you asking me to wait,” Angel reminded her.

“Well, I meant for you to wait outside, not go wandering around the
building.”

“I’m really not sure how I could have been expected to know that, Mrs.
Matthews.”

“I would have thought it would have been obvious.”

“Evidently, it wasn’t. I thought you had changed your mind, and
decided to have him for yourself. I was given the impression you wanted a
threesome.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Perhaps next time you would like to share that fact, Mrs. Matthews.
The workers here at Desires are not telepathic, we need instructions, and we need
to know your exact needs. I am not surprised that there are so many complaints
from you, as you tell them one thing and then change your mind and expect them
to understand you without you telling them. I am no longer going to apologize
for myself or my workers as I understand exactly what your game is. You have
the audacity to come in here, complain, get a freebie in apology, and still
complain about it. Well, this time you have messed up. I have cottoned on to
your game. You made a mistake picking me to be your next victim,” Angel said, glaring
into Gillian’s suddenly uncertain eyes.

“That’s not what’s going on,” she blustered, her face belying her
words. Angel was pretty certain she had pegged Gillian exactly right.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t believe you. As manager of Desires, I want
you and Mr. Matthews off the premises immediately. Your contract is hereby terminated.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Watch me.” Angel went to the office door to open it.

“I pay good money for the services here,” Gillian said, turning to
look at Angel, but not moving from her position in front of the desk.

“Yes, you did. And you got good service in return. You don’t any
more. Get out.”

Her mouth working in fury, Gillian marched past Angel. Angel
followed her and watched her go upstairs to get her husband.

“Bailey, can you quickly find a copy of Mr. and Mrs. Matthews’
contract, please.”

Bailey did as she was asked, her face aglow with curiosity. They
waited a few minutes, shortly seeing them descend the staircase, their faces a
matching shade of scarlet. “Do we know these people?” Angel asked the girls on
reception as they reached the bottom.

“No,” they both replied.

“Shred their contract, Bailey.”

“We have our rights! You can’t do this,” Gillian blustered. “You
haven’t heard the last of this. I have paid good money for this place.”

“Are you sure? Bailey? Do you have a file for these people?”

“I’m terribly sorry,” said Bailey, “I don’t appear to be able to
find one.” She smiled sweetly at the choleric couple.

“You just deleted it on purpose, you little bitch,” snarled Gillian.
“I’ll have you for this. I know people!”

“Oh dear,” Angel said. “I’m afraid I can’t allow my staff to be
verbally abused in that fashion.” She stared into Gillian’s furious eyes. “Oh,
and just in case you decided to kick up a fuss, I have kept the confidentiality
agreement, which both you and your delightful husband signed. I do believe you
are both well-known in the public eye. I’d hate to see any harm come to you
through your own indiscretions,” Angel said. Gillian gulped heavily.

Angel allowed herself to feel a little smug, delighted with her
success. She had to protect Desires, her life, her business. She had the right
to refuse anyone admittance. And she didn’t like being threatened. She had
enough information in her office, both hard copy and on computer, to ruin, or
at least badly embarrass, a very large number of influential people all over
the country. Celebrities, politicians, respected head-teachers, judges, all
used her club. These two were small fry. She could hurt them far more than they
could hurt her.

“Get off these premises, before I call security,” she told them
abruptly. Faces dark with wrath, both started making their way to the main
door, pulling their overnight cases behind them.

Angel watched the couple exit the building, slamming the door behind
them. She turned back, smiling at her girls. At least no one else would have to
suffer the torture of Gillian Matthews. She felt more sorry for Greg, having to
cope with her, but then, it was his choice to be humiliated alongside his wife.
If he didn’t like her, he could always leave. Finally, the complaints had come
to an end. It was time to celebrate.