Surprise Bidder

I nod and join the chorus. “Yes, ma’am.”

Great. More pressure. But it’s too late to back out now. I’m here. I’m dressed. I’m ready to work.

I draw in a deep breath and square my shoulders.

Let’s do this.

~

So far, so good, I think as I take my first ten-minute break just outside the kitchen, roughly two hours after service officially started.

I sit on the marble stairs and take off my shoes to rest my aching feet. A cool breeze blows and caresses my cheeks. I’d love to take off my mask as well, but Clarissa told us not to, not even during breaks. I settle for gazing up at the full moon through the holes punched into the velvet cloth secured around my eyes.

After a while, I close them to savor the breeze and the tranquility of the surroundings. Constant music and chatter fill the air inside, but here, those are muted. The soft singing of the chimes hanging from tree branches is the symphony that reigns, accompanied by the rustle of leaves and water cascading down a nearby fountain. Somehow, it makes my weariness and all my worries melt away.

The concert has only gone on for a few seconds, though, when it is interrupted by a voice from above. I open my eyes and look up. There, on the second floor balcony, a man is on his phone.

I can hear him talking and yet the words seem to go in one ear and out the other as I stare at him. He’s clad in all black like a shadow, from the mask over his eyes to his tie, his vest, his shirt and the jacket that hangs from his broad shoulders. They all seem to blend into each other, fitting him perfectly. Now, that’s bespoke! Even more impressive than the suit, though, is the man wearing it. Even with a mask on, I can see the rigid lines running through his chiseled features as he engages the person on the other end of the line in a serious conversation. So serious. Every now and then, I see a flicker of impatience, annoyance even. Fingers tapping on the balustrade. Clenched jaw. Pursed lips. Chin tilted upwards. His tone remains the same, though- calm, completely in control.

Finally, he moves the phone away from his ear. As he looks at the screen, he runs his other hand through his hair, fingers combing the ebony strands.

My teeth dig into my lower lip. Damn, he’s sexy.

Only seconds later does my own mental remark set in. Sexy? That’s new. Then again, I’ve never felt this way before. So intrigued, enthralled, excited.

Is this what Mandy was talking about?

Well, I’m not sure I want to have sex with this stranger. I can’t help but keep watching him, though, and the more I do, the more my imagination goes out of control. What would he look like without that mask? Without that suit?

Suddenly, he turns his head. As our gazes meet, my breath catches. My heart leaps to my throat.

The dark eyes staring from behind that leather mask study me intently. They gleam with intelligence, confidence, and something else that I can’t seem to put a finger on. All I know is that I find it forbidding and yet electrifying at the same time. A shiver goes down my spine. Heat explodes behind my breasts.

I want to look away but I can’t. I’m trapped, drawn to that gaze and the man who seems to be wielding it like a weapon.

Then he gives a mischievous, boyish grin. My heart flips. My throat goes dry and I swallow.

What is with this man that even though we’ve only just met and I’m several feet away, I feel like a marionette on his strings?

“Number Twenty-Two!” A voice pulls me out from the spell I’m under.

Reluctantly, I turn my head to see Clarissa standing a few feet away.

“Break’s over,” she says, glancing at her watch.

Already? Have I been sitting here, staring at the most fascinating stranger I have ever seen, for ten minutes? A frown forms on my lips, but I quickly put my shoes back on and get back on my feet.

“Coming.”

Before going back inside, I glance up. He’s still there, still watching me just as I was watching him. Should I smile? Should I wave and say hello? I’m too shy, though, so I just purse my lips and touch the back of my neck as I turn away.

I don’t know him. He’s clearly out of my league. And like I told Mandy, I’m not here to play. I have work to do.

So forget him and get back to work.

–

I can’t take my mind off him, though. Each time I go to serve food or drinks in one of those rooms where the guests have gathered, my eyes wander in search of a black suit. They stray to the stairs, hoping to catch him walking down them. My ears strain to hear his voice.