Takeover Ch. 03

After all the talk of dreading Quinn's party, Fia is in high spirits as she drives the two of you in the Vespertine along the ocean road to Costa Graziosa. Behind the wheel Fia always acts so free and joyful, as though her complete concentration on controlling the vehicle strips every other concern from her. You've often seen the same look on her face when she pleasures you. You blush and turn to look out the side window at the great glittering bowl of the bay swing past.

"Are you blushing again?" asks Fia, barely contained glee in her voice.

The last few days have been peaceful, happy ones in your new home. You've organised everything as you like it and become familiar with every nook and cranny of the huge apartment. Cooking and cleaning keeps you busy but you still have a lot of time to yourself and you spend it reading books from Fia's voluminous library and waiting for her to come home.

The joy that swells up in you when you hear or see her helicopter has become addictive and you always bounce up the stairs eager to greet her and take her briefcase from her. Then it's dinner and usually some drinks or music on the balcony (Fia likes jazz) and then a long, luxuriant bath, the anticipation of which has your heart racing. For as Fia leads you up the stairs to the second floor, undoing the buttons of her blouse one-handed, you know that the exquisite pleasure of her mouth and hands is waiting for you among the fragrant foam and billowing steam of the bath. You've learned more and more about what she likes as well, and it's with blissful exhaustion that the two of you share your bed. Sometimes, Fia wakes you in the middle of the night and you love each other again, but usually she sleeps through, lying on her back like a starfish and snoring lustily.

Fia glances at you. "I think I know why you're blushing," she says. "Remembering something nice?"

You say nothing but feel your face grow hotter. Your eyes remain glued to the bay. It's quite far to Quinn's villa.

Fia's hand slides across your back. "If we weren't running late I'd stop this car and peel you out of that suit with my teeth," she says, snapping at you. You shy away, your usual game, and when you look back Fia's eyes are already back on the road.

She looks so beautiful. She's done her chestnut up in a Dutch braid, and along with her judiciously applied makeup and her little black dress she looks every part of the corporate heavyweight at play. Her lipstick is an especially dark red tonight, and you know Fia has gone all out to outdo someone.

It can only be Quinn on her mind. She implied as much when she dressed you in your newly-tailored suit:

"You look perfect," she said, sitting back and admiring her handiwork with hungry eyes. "Quin'll choke on her martini." Her face grew suddenly serious. "You watch out for that Quinn, okay? And her friends and their fancy-boys, too." You must have looked nervous, for Fia scooped you up in her arms then. "Don't worry. You'll have a big mean barracuda looking out for you."

The sun is setting when you arrive at Costa Graziosa. The long, white gravel driveway leads up to a Tuscan-style villa with redbrick walls and arches. You can hear the noise of the party even before you're close enough to see the dark shapes of the mingling guests against the numerous sconces with their open flames.

A tall, elegant young man dressed in a dark suit gestures to Fia with a sweeping motion of his hand to stop nearby. As Fia switches off the motor and undoes her seatbelt you see him say something to a bob-haired young boy dressed in black jeans and a collared shirt. The boy nods and hops up the stairs and into the villa proper.

Fia helps you out of the car and hands the keys to the valet. "Be careful," she says to him with a wink. "She bites."

Fia takes your arm. The boy in the jeans returns with a tall, exquisitely attired woman in tow.

It's Quinn.

You had no idea she was so tall. Of course, you'd only seen her on the wallscreen. In person she's easily a head above the boy at her side. She's even taller than Fia is, and FIa is not a short woman by any means.

"Fia!" she cries, gliding swiftly down the steps from the veranda to embrace her. Fia awkwardly pats her on the back and mutters her own greeting. Then Quinn turns to you. Her eyes rove up and down you as they did that morning through the wallscreen. "And of course, your handsome hubby." She takes your hand and brings it to her lips. "I'm so glad Fia let you out to play. You've been the subject of rather a lot of the conversation tonight."

Fia arches her eyebrows and Quinn drops your hand at last. "Ha! Well, I suppose it has something to do with all the secrecy. But I can understand it, seeing him in that suit." She leans down and whispers in your ear, "You're a bit too cute for your own good. I'd suggest not getting too close to any of the single women here tonight. They're likely to sweep you off your feet and abduct you."

Fia takes hold of your arm. "Don't scare him, Quinn." She turns to you. "She's just joking."

Quinn laughs, her hand covering her mouth in a rehearsed gesture. "Iamsorry. The second time to meet and I've already frightened the young man twice." She takes Fia's hand. "Let's go press the flesh, Fia. My aide Haru will look after hubby." She nods to the bob-haired boy who has been politely waiting the whole time. "You have to let him off the leash sometime, no?"

As she pulls Fia away, your wife flashes her eyes at you. It's a warning, you realise, and you take to heart all of the instructions she gave you on the drive here. Quinn's friends are the movers and shakers of the financial world and there might even be some members of the government and the aristocracy present. You stand there, feeling forlorn and more than a little nervous as Fia has a drink shoved into her hand and disappears amongst the crowd.

But then Haru is beside you. Close up he seems a little older than a boy, around eighteen or nineteen you guess. His bob-cut makes him look younger and his large eyes and delicate features are pretty rather than handsome. His olive skin and glossy black hair shines in the firelight as he grins at you, extending his hand. As you shake it he introduces himself.

"I'm Haru de Sousa, Quinn's aide." He laughs. "Well, she calls me an aide but I'm really her secretary and personal assistant and prank-target all wrapped up into one."

You like him immediately. You introduce yourself, then, and he shakes his head, chuckling. "I don't think there's a single person here that doesn't know everything about you already. You're all people have been talking about, like Quinn said."

You flush at the thought of being the centre of conversation. Haru places a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. Anything new and different gets all the big dogs excited. Just smile and nod at everyone. It's what I do."

Haru leads you up the steps and into the foyer after Quinn and Fia. There are mostly wait-staff milling here with a few guests and you soon have a glass of champagne thrust into one hand and a canapé into the other. You sample it. The caviar is exquisite: the little eggs burst with salt and the sea without a single hint of fishiness.

Haru finishes his own and licks a slender finger. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the others." He scoops a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray as he leads you along a wisteria-covered colonnade to a terrace open to the sky, the red tiles a field of lava in the firelight of the glowing sconces. The party seems to be centred here round a bottom-lit pool and as you step out into the light many of the guests glance up at you. Having so many eyes turned in your direction you're deeply embarrassed and unable to stop yourself from blushing .

"Hey," Haru murmurs to you as he grabs your arm to bustle you off to one side. "Try and keep that blush under control. I don't want to have to beat the women off you with a stick. They can smell innocence and it drives them crazy." His teasing smile seems to indicate he's joking, but you can't be sure.

You do as he says. Your eyes scan the crowd for Fia and you spot her off to one side. Quinn and two other women are talking to her and you notice her glancing about as well in between polite smiles and snippets of conversation. You resist the urge to wave to her but she spots you anyway. She smiles and winks at you and you feel a bit more confident.

You need every bit of that new confidence as Haru sweeps you into a small group of men and starts introducing you in a whirlwind.

You're enveloped in hugs and kissed on the cheek multiple times. The crowd is mostly made up of the husbands and partners of the women present but there are also a few personal assistants like Haru and other more nebulous individuals who describe themselves as 'friends'. Every age is represented, but there seem to be more people your own age and younger present.

One of the older men, after leaving his champagne tottering on the edge of a potted aloe, embraces you and kisses you twice on each cheek with his well-tended silvery moustache.

"So the Barracuda finally found herself a mate, did she?" He pulls away and looks you over. "You're a braver man than any of us here, lad."

The others laugh and you blush. It doesn't sound like unkind laughter to you. The silver-haired man introduces himself as Constantin, the husband of Milana Zagotta, the ex-minister of finance. He notices your drink is half-finished and he frowns and claps at a waiter to bring you a fresh one before knocking his own over into the aloe as he tries to reclaim it.

Another man Haru introduced to you as Lanzo, a little older than you with glistening charcoal skin beneath his white suit, grabs your hands, his dark, liquid eyes insistent. "We're all dying to know and I'm just going to come out and ask it so please don't be mad. Is she really as scary as they say?"

You shake your head. Fia is very kind and gentle, you tell them, and she treats you really well.

Lanzo lets go of your hands. He nods, his smile uncertain. "Is that so?"

There's murmuring among the others.

"It must be nice living out at Giada," says a pale-skinned young man with freckles and the slightest hint of an English accent, one of the 'friends' whose name you've already forgotten. "Mine has me holed up in Castel Rosso. It's so goddamn boring. Worried about me running off with some other woman I guess." He arches his eyebrows over his drink. "Well, she's right to be worried."

Laughter amongst the men. You politely join in.

Soon you've been initiated into the million little jokes and personal intrigues of the group. Everyone seems eager to get to know you although every second question is about your relationship with Fia. It seems that everyone was just as surprised as Quinn to have learned that Fia had gotten married.

"Well, I expected someone taller."

"Me too!"

"So she likes them cute, huh?"

"Cute just means young, right?" A hand on your arm. "You almost look underaged."

"You'resafe then, you dried-up old bitch."

"I never would have picked the Barracuda as being the maternal type."

Your eyes flick from one guest to another. Haru freshens up your drink. You can't remember how many you've had now. You've been drinking to fight off your nervousness and it seems to have helped. Despite all the questions and teasing you're enjoying yourself.

"Uh oh," says Haru suddenly. "Looks like you're wanted." He flicks his eyes towards the pool and you see Quinn waving at you. Fia is beside her, frowning, and there's another woman, an older one you noticed earlier. Constantin's wife you think, the ex-minister of finance? Milana was her name?

"So this is the young man we've been hearing so much about," says Milana as soon as you're close. She takes your hand in her bony one and raises it to her lips, at the same time considering you with her watery blue eyes.

Fia introduces you to her. You smile and exchange some pleasantries, blushing under her sharp gaze as its slices up and down across your body.

She strokes the skin of your fingers with her thumb twice before she drops your hand and nods. She turns a bright girlish smile at Fia.

"Quite the catch," she murmurs. "Very easy on the eyes and from such a good family, too." She leans close to you, the scent of her perfume thick. "You might not know this, but I've met your mother the Contessa on a number of occasions. Impressive woman, very impressive."

You smile and nod, pleased to hear your mother praised.

"So has he been acquitting himself of his husbandly duties?" Milana asks Fia. "He looks like he'd be a warm little thing to wrestle with. And such nice lips, too. Reminds me of Constantin at his peak."

Fia chuckles, but it's forced. She raises her drink to her lips and glances over you. Milana slips an arm around your waist and after taking you aside asks you a number of questions. You stammer in your nervousness and look over at Fia for help.

"Oh, don't worry," Milana whispers to you. "I'm not going to spirit you away or anything, although I'd love to display you around the house. It's a shame Fia keeps you so hidden away. Well, the Barracuda is jealous of her new treasure and I can understand that. Still, touching does no harm, does it?" She runs her fingers, hidden from the view of the others, along your ribs. "You should ask some of the boys what the benefits of experience are. If you ever get sick of being nibbled on by a barracuda, you're most welcome to drop by for tea."

Fia, with Quinn trailing her, catches up with you and Milana starts talking as though you're in the middle of a completely unrelated conversation. After a few more questions she releases you.

Other women come up and Quinn soon swamps you with introductions as Fia looks on. You barely remember anyone's name by the end of it, your hand and cheek smeared with lipstick and your body aching with a few well-placed pinches. A number of the women, with Fia distracted, proposition you and you're relieved when Haru finally comes to your rescue.

"Hey," he jokes to Quinn. "You're wearing the poor guy out. Let him come and recharge with us." He leads you away to where the men are standing.

"You did well out there," says Lanzo. "That Gallacci woman has a real slimy hand, doesn't she?"

"Youreallydon't want to know what she's like in bed," murmurs the pale-skinned boy with the freckles, whose name you now know is Etienne.

Haru arches his eyebrows. "You've had sex with her?"

"I still don't know if what we did can precisely be calledsex," he replies. He downs his drink and scoops another off the tray of nearby waiter.

The party goes on. You see little of Fia. Soon the flickering firelights take on halos and you realise you're drunk. You need to go to the bathroom and so you ask a waiter where it is. With a thin smile he indicates a door in the hazy distance.

You step carefully, trying not to trip on the tile-work. The bathroom seems a long way from the pool. After a few wrong turns you find it. It's exquisitely fitted and it takes you a while to work out how to use the sink since there's no tap or faucet. Instead the water bubbles from beneath your hands.

On the way back you turn a corner and come face to face with Quinn. She's standing next to a vase of flowers and is toying with them. She turns and arches her eyebrows at you.

"I'm sorry," she says, drawing her slender fingers away from the flowers. "I really can't stand it when people mess with my arrangements." She inclines her head, indicating for you to come over to her. "Do you know anything about flower arranging?"

You shake your head. You know it's a traditional Japanese art form calledikebanabut you've never had the opportunity to learn anything about it. You're aware of the meaning of each of the flowers in the western tradition, but apart from that...

Quinn snorts. "You can't really call the western style flower 'arranging'. It's more a case of shoving as many flowers into a pot as you can fit. Inikebanathe gaps are just as, if not more, important than the positioning of the flowers."

She takes your hand and draws you beside her.

"Do you see how this branch of cherry blossom only has a few flowers? Some were still budding when it was cut. Left to bloom and covered in blossoms it would be unwieldy, flashy, ugly. As it is, the scarcity of the blooms is what makes it beautiful."

Quinn is right. Itisbeautiful.

"And the white lily here helps balance the arrangement with a bit of lightness. Without it, the whole thing would look too stark, austere. Also, notice the peacock anemone? I know purists might complain about my placing an Italian wildflower with traditional Japanese flowers, but it's supposed to represent my combined parentage." She turns her dark eyes to you. "Also, I just think they're pretty. I've always had a weakness for pretty things."

She lifts a hand to your cheek and then leans forward and kisses you. You try to move away but she pulls you flush against her with surprising strength. The tip of her tongue pushes at your lips and when you gasp it slips into your mouth, hot and wet.

You struggle but Quinn's embrace is inexorable. She draws her free hand along your back and up into your hair, entwining her fingers in it. You go slack, defeated. At last she has her fill of you and lets you go. You stand there, gasping, staring at her.

Quinn sweeps a finger across a glistening trail of saliva at the edge of her mouth left from your kiss and places her finger in her mouth. She grabs your chin again and wipes at your lips with a thumb.

"Lipstick," she murmurs. "Can't have the Barracuda seeing that, can we?" She runs a finger down your neck and pinches the point where Fia bit you that first night together. "She might have marked you, but now I've marked you, too. Andmymark can't be seen."

She places a hand on your bottom "No telling now, yes? Nothing to tell, anyway. Just a thank-you kiss to the kind host for inviting you to her party."

With a gentle push she propels you down the corridor.

You stumble out into the foyer. Quinn has disappeared in another direction. Your heart races. Fia. You hope she doesn't see your blushing face. There: the back of her head, those braided chestnut locks. She's talking with some women whose names you can't remember. You turn the other way, take a few unsteady steps and immediately collide with someone.

Constantin.

"Ah, here's our boy!" he says, sweeping an arm around you. "Finally got free of all those clutching claws, did we?"

You mutter something about having gone to the bathroom and Constantin laughs. "It's just over there, you know, on the other side of the foyer." He draws closer, his breath hot with liquor. "No need to prevaricate with me lad." He drags you from the others with a wink. "Just going to have a friendly chat."

Haru shrugs but there's hardness in his dark eyes for you. Guilt flares up inside your chest and you turn away, hiding the flush that's come to your face.

"Blushing again?" Constantin laughs. "She must have been good. Who was it? Fiore Izzo? That Sanseverino woman? The dark-eyed Spanish venture capitalist? I don't see them around. Wait. Surely not our lady host?" He notices your deepening blush and whistles. "She's always liked playing with fire, that one. But then, it's just a continuation of her rivalry with your wife."

Rivalry? But you thought they were friends.

"In business, not that I know anything about business mind you, the word 'friend' has a slightly more expansive definition - and that's ignoring the 'friends' that some of the ladies have brought with them tonight." Constantin's cheerful face goes dark. "Another word of advice, lad. Be careful around them. They're as much predators as the women. Here." He slips his arm from around your shoulders and grabs two new drinks and shoves one into your hand, splashing your sleeve as it foams over.