"I mean," Lauren groaned, trying to regain her composure, "are you taking me to a business dinner? Some reception at the office? Is this business or pleasure?" She could hear Thomas's sudden need in his tone, greedy, possessive.
"Both. Be here as quickly as you can, little girl." There was a small whimper on her end of the line as he said goodbye. With an unholy grin, Thomas looked out his window, absently rubbing the swelling front of his trousers. That this sweet little girl could get him hard at the most inopportune of times, which was reinforced when, with a brief tap on his door, Ben walked in.
"Thomas, we'll need to be ready for-" looking up, Number One's brow creased, "what are you grinning at?"
His Number Two irritably cleared his throat. "Nothing at all, Ben. Tell me your concerns over the Paris agreement." Despite his best efforts to pay attention, his thoughts drifted back to the blushing blonde that would soon be walking through his door.
Despite her internal pep talk to remain cool and calm, Lauren was nervously wiping her sweaty palms on the pleated skirt of her kilt when Chuck pulled into the underground parking of her husband's office building. She looked a little young - her family tartan, expensive black riding boots, and a lavender silk sweater - but she tilted her chin and put her game face on. She couldn't embarrass Thomas. Not here. Riding up the lift, she and Chuck kept their gaze on the rising numbers on the display. "Mr. Williams has asked me to make you comfortable in his office," he volunteered suddenly, "Mr. Kingston called him into a last-minute meeting, but he assured me he would not keep you waiting long and sends his apologies." Lauren eyed the big man and chewed on the corner of her mouth again. Thomas could have texted her, she was holding her fancy new iPhone quite literally in her hand at the moment. But if the insectile Number One was involved, there was probably a good reason for it. But she wouldn't have to see that freak, he was in the meeting with Thomas and she'd just hang out in his office until...
Unfortunately, luck was not on their side.
"Lauren!" The girl cringed a little to hear the booming voice of Michael behind her. The loud third in command at The Corporation seemed too happy to see her. "What are you doing here, love? An early dinner with Williams? Lucky bastard." He smiled, but it didn't reach his oddly tinged grey-blue eyes.
Looking around her, she could see the top floor - of course - of the huge building housed only three offices and a gigantic board room. "Hey, Michael- I'm just here to see Thomas. Is Clara here, too? Do we have a business thing, tonight?" She was trying to avoid his speculative gaze, suddenly remembering his fiancée’s anxious request to go home that night at the strip club.
Putting his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit, Number Three eyed her more closely. "No. Thomas must have special plans for you."
Lauren's brows drew together. Thomas's partner had never spoken to her like this before, that sort of hateful, knowing way and eyeing her like... a thing. He'd always been perfectly polite with Clara by his side. She pasted together a false smile. "Well, Thomas is really romantic. Lucky me," she barely kept on the non-sarcastic side of a simper and eyed the smirking Fassell. "Like how I'm sure you are with Clara, right? Such a perfect girl, you're so lucky, huh, Michael?" His sudden frown raised her flagging self-confidence and she smiled, batting her eyelashes. "With a crazy schedule like you all have here, it takes the right woman to have the... understanding to put up with all of that, right?" Fassell was no longer smiling, instead looking her over with a set, angry mouth.
"Why, it's Thomas's sweet little bride. What a pleasure to see you, dear." Lauren's eyes closed, wondering which god she'd managed to offend to encounter both the murderous One and Three in Thomas's organization without the protection of her terrifying spouse.
Chuck, bless his heart, was apparently feeling both protective and suicidal that day, because he spoke before she could. "I've been instructed by Mr. Williams to take Mrs. Williamsdirectlyto his office to wait-"
Kingston cut him off. "No need. We'll be happy to entertain the lovely bride while she waits for Thomas, won't we, Michael?" Lauren narrowed her eyes at his black gaze, not sophisticated enough to hide her dislike and instinctive disgust of this man. She just barely managed to avoid yanking her arm away when he took a grip on her elbow. "Come into my office, dear," he said with barely controlled malice, "we're quite happy to keep you entertained while Number Two finishes his meeting."
"I was told to-" Chuck made a valiant effort to stop them, but Lauren cut him off. She knew the vile husband of Arabella would be all too happy to do something to her bodyguard if he put up too much of a fuss.
"No worries," she interrupted, "why don't you just text Thomas and let him know where you and I are while he finishes up, okay?" She could feel the disapproval radiating off Straker's stolid frame, but she'd rather have him mad at her than... dead? Would they kill her Chuck for disagreeing with Kingston? The feeling of helplessness and anxiety that nearly crushed her that day at the coffee house with Thomas's society neighbor hit hard again, and Lauren took a deep breath. She couldn't embarrass Thomas, and she had to keep Chuck safe. The irony of keeping her bodyguard alive was lost on her as Number One escorted her into his office and tried to shut the door. Lauren dug in her heels. Number One looked down at her, irritated. "I'm not allowed to go anywhere without Chuck. Thomas is very specific about that."
Kingston lost his patience. "Who is Chuck?"
Lauren had a wild urge to giggle, knowing her bodyguard was dreaming of murdering her at that moment. Pointing at the large, angry man, she clarified, "Mr. Straker. Chuck."
Michael looked surprised. "Your name is Chuck?" He looked at Straker who definitely wore the expression of a man who wanted to murder someone.
Chuck cleared his throat. "No."
Once when she was more or less shoved into sitting on a leather couch in Number One's office - Lauren tried not to gag on the reek of expensive cologne, fine scotch and Smug. "Would you like a drink, dear?" Kingston offered with false solicitude, "I fear I don't have any wine here." He held up one of the bottles of amber liquid, and her stomach twisted. Who knows what this psycho doctored these drinks with? Did he have a special "murder bottle?" Scotch meant to make one bleed from every pore? So paranoid. She was beginning to think like Thomas did.
Unaccountably pleased by that realization, Lauren reached out and took the glass away from Number Three, who was just returning to the couch. They wouldn't have poisoned his drink, anyway. "Thanks, Michael. This looks great. I love bourbon."
Number One snarled, "That's a 12-year-old Royal Lochnagar, young lady."
"Even better," she lied, having no idea what he was talking about. The first gulp surprised her. Lauren hated hard liquor, the sense that she was really just drinking flavored rubbing alcohol was a sense that never left her, but this was pretty tasty. Taking another big swallow, she sighed happily, balancing the glass on her crossed knee and smiling brightly at her husband's murderous partners. "Thanks, this is pretty good."
Kingston looked like she'd just spat into the bottle, but he rallied and smiled down on her in an avuncular fashion. "How are you enjoying married life to our Thomas, dear?"
She fluttered her eyelashes elaborately. "It's even better than I imagined." This was technically true, since Lauren had grimly expected to crack at some point and provoke her chilly husband into murdering her. This expectation had faded over the last few weeks, but...
"I'm surprised we didn't hear more about you before the wedding," he continued, still staring at her with his creepy black gaze. "You were quite the surprise."
Lauren had swigged down the last of her drink and handed the empty glass to Chuck, smiling at him meaningfully. With a barely concealed sigh, he went to the bar to make her another one. This part, she had down. Thomas had brusquely told her in the very beginning what to say when questioned about their sudden engagement. "Well, we met that night at the LSO scholarship fundraiser. Thomas isn't a man to hesitate when he knows what he wants," she smiled blandly, "and what girl could resist him? I'm so lucky."
As Chuck bent down to hand her the new drink, Lauren was certain she heard him snort derisively.
But Number One wasn't finished. "That's very sweet, dear. Really. But far more important than your infatuation with your shiny new wedding ring is your understanding of what is required of you as a Corporation wife. You're young. Youngsters can be reckless." He was leaning forward now, shifting the expensive crystal glass in his hands looking like he wanted to crush it while picturing her head instead. "We don't tolerate recklessness here."
The moment seemed to slow down, Kingston's voice almost going into a cartoonish slow-motion slur as Lauren stared at him. She sort of expected to be wetting herself right now in sheer terror and was mildly impressed that she wasn't. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Chuck's hand inch towards his shoulder holster under his jacket. Taking another deep breath, Lauren drank half her glass in one gulp, enjoying the involuntary flinch on Number One's face for abusing his expensive scotch. "Since Thomas has never um... punished me for acting badly during any Corporation event, I think that means I'm behaving properly. I'm quite aware," she stilled herself, trying to stop the hiss that wanted to spurt out with her words, "quite aware of what's at stake. And your uh, kind attempt to warn me could not possibly make me more aware of this than my husband has already managed to do."
