Surrender Page 2

  “Well, there has to be something. You can’t pay my rent for me. I can go without food but I’m sure I’d struggle without alcohol.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” She sighed, looking back down at the paper. Her eyes widened and lit up. “Perfect!”

  She thrust the paper back at me and I looked down at the new marked advert. “Oh. Yeah, bartender slash server is perfect for me. Vince said he’d give me a reference.”

  Leah snorted. “I’m surprised. You big fucking klutz.”

  “What? It wasn’t my fault; I was being chased by hungry men!”

  “Isla, you’re always being chased by hungry men. You usually turn round and spit some shit at them, not throw yourself at them!”

  “I didn’t technically throw myself at him, just some toast soldiers.”

  She chuckled and shook her head, disappearing into the kitchen after she threw my phone at me. “Ring. Grab an interview.”

  Nodding my head, I did just that, smiling to myself when the girl told me interviews were that afternoon. How lucky was I?

  Not very. You’ll soon find out why.

  I did a double take when I pulled up at the patrolled gates. Glancing with confusion at the address I had scribbled down on a scrap of paper, I lowered my window and smiled hesitantly at the guard.

  “Good afternoon, Ma’am,” he greeted politely with a smile of his own. “May I see your membership identification? I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

  “Uh, actually I’m here for an interview.” He nodded in understanding as I continued. “Although I’m not quite sure this is the right place. I applied for a position at . . .” I glanced back at the paper.“ . . . Deviant?”

  “That’s correct Ma’am. Could you please let me have your name?”

  “Uh, Cormack. Isla Cormack.”

  He looked towards a screen inside his little booth and typed something. Turning back to me he smiled as the barrier in front of me rose. “If you travel up the driveway,” he instructed with a point of his finger in the direction I needed, “and take a left at the fork, follow it to the end then you will find where you need to be, Miss Cormack.”

  “Oh, wow, thank you.” I smiled wider. Looking at the place I just knew the wage would be more than a poxy £6.50 an hour.

  I followed his directions, gawping as I peered at a huge grassy area on my left as I drove slowly through the stunning grounds. Various groups of people walked around in the afternoon sunshine, swinging, what looked like from the large distance, golf clubs.

  After taking a left at the fork like he told me, I rubbernecked at the numerous log cabins set back in the distance to the right, a mass of trees around and behind them.

  Eventually I pulled into a huge car park. I pressed my face to the windscreen as the most gigantic white building opened up to me. It looked like the damn White House, huge and extravagant, the tall white walls and large structured pillars were intimidating. A sweep of steps led to a glass-fronted area.

  I was sure I was in the wrong place. I knew it when I exited my car and walked into the massive foyer. A polished marble floor almost made the trek across treacherous as I made my way to the foreboding reception area.

  Couches and plump armchairs were scattered around the space, a few well-dressed people seated in them either drinking coffee or reading newspapers.

  To the right hand side, a wall of smoked glass ran the entire length of the room. To the left I squinted through the lightly shaded window, a luxurious swimming pool taking up the whole of the area with a stairway at the back that led to a gym. Behind the reception desk was a grand carpeted stairway and on the rear wall were two doors.

  I was so glad I had chosen to wear my soft green dress and cream heels, unsure as to what kind of club it would be. It was what I called an ‘all-rounder.’ It was demure and classy but not overstated, perfect for the unknown.

  I finally made it across the floor without accident and smiled at one of the two receptionists.

  “How can I help you, ma’am?” Her face was pulled tight in the most severe bun, her face straining under the stress. Her bright red lips lifted into a false smile as her bored blue eyes regarded me without emotion.

  “I’m not sure I’m in the right place. I have an interview for a job.”

  “Which position?” she asked as her perfectly manicured nails tapped away at the keyboard set into the glass top of the desk.

  “Server.”

  She lifted her eyes to me and gave a bored sigh. “We have several positions open. Could you be more specific?”

  “Uh . . . I’m not sure. I’m sorry, that’s all she said when I rang.”

  She huffed and clicked some more. “There’s a position for bartender in the social establishment,” she mumbled as she gestured to the glass wall on the right hand side. “One in the casino as a dealer.” My eyes widened when she swung around and pointed to the staircase.

  “Oh, I’m not sure I could host a roulette table.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “With that attitude I would tend to agree with you.”

  My mouth fell open at her rudeness but before I had a chance to say anything else she pointed back to the glass wall, dropping the snooty voice and all air of sophistication. “I think you would be more suited to serving drinks in the bar.”

  What a bitch.

  I quirked my own eyebrow and forced a smug smile, pulling out my iPad and pretending to write something down. She frowned, her eyes flicking from the tablet to my face.

  “Your greeting and politeness has been duly noted . . .” I leaned over the counter making a show of looking at her name badge. “ . . . Genesis De Graunde.” What kind of fucking name was that? False, the same as her face and her boobs and her initial smile. “I’ll be sure to report it when I make my assessment and hand in my report to the standards agency.”

  She stared at me with horror. I spun on my heels and gracefully, well as gracefully as possible for me, strolled across the room and pushed open one of the glass doors.

  Good God!

  The space was like something out of a magazine. The walls were covered with a soothing cream and several modern paintings, the carpet in the same shade to match. A variety of couches and chairs, each with small tables, were dressed with a soft green fabric. To one side, a large TV screen filled a wall, more seating facing it, reminding me of a small cinema. To the other side of the room, a number of pool tables stretched across the space. Along the rear wall ran a dark wooden bar, stools placed strategically in front of the smoked glass front.

  Taking a deep breath I walked over to the bar, glancing at around ten other women, all older than me but considerably well-groomed, who sat waiting on some couches. I gulped, taking in their revealing and expensive clothes, their hair and make-up done to perfection. I didn’t stand a chance.

  The barman smiled widely at me. “Are you here for the interview, love?”

  I nodded, smiling back. Something about him made me happy, as daft as that sounded. His bright grey eyes twinkled, his smile real and easy.

  After looking at a clipboard on the bar, he looked back up at me. “You must be Isla.” I nodded. “If you take a seat with the . . . vipers.”

  I swallowed back my laugh when he winked but grinned at him then went to find a seat.

  The longer I waited and withered at their sneers of disgust the more I realised I was totally out of my depth. I would never be able to work in a place like this. I was common as shit, these other applicants probably didn’t even shit. They probably had their waste extracted by some ridiculously expensive laser treatment.

  Each one disappeared before me and as minutes grew into long, tiring hours I eventually gave up and stood. The barman glanced at me as I picked up my bag and turned.

  “Isla Cormack,” a female shouted from a door where the others had been disappearing through, never to come out again, I might add.

  “Oh, that’s me,” I blurted quickly, waving an arm at her, relieved at finally being called thro
ugh.

  She quirked an eyebrow at my eagerness when I teetered towards her. She didn’t acknowledge me further, just turned on her heel and headed down a long corridor. We turned two corners then went through a security door that she opened by tapping a code into a keypad. We travelled up some stairs and eventually came into a square space. It reminded me of a lounge. Two long leather sofas with a coffee table between them sat in the centre, and a huge Husky dog sat on another small couch to the back of the room. He tipped his head, whined a little and regarded me, then curled in on himself, let out a big huff and shut his eyes.

  “Please take a seat. Mr Marshall will call you through in a moment.”

  I nodded at her, giving her a nervous smile. “Thank you.”

  She smiled reassuringly. “And if Bernie over there,” she pointed to the dog with a mock scowl and a thumb, making the huge lump of fur whine louder, “bothers you, just tell him firmly, ‘Submit.’”

  I shot her a shocked look, unsure whether I had heard her properly. “I’m sorry?”

  She chuckled and shook her head before turning. “Boss’ idea of a joke. Good luck with your interview, Miss Cormack.”

  “Thank you,” I shouted after her as she disappeared down the steps, leaving me alone, with The Hulk at the back of the room.

  The silence was eerie, making me uneasy my nerves making my hand shake slightly. I stood up to prowl and give myself something to do. As soon as my foot moved in the direction of a large window in the front wall, a long, low growl rumbled from behind me. I froze, unsure whether it was safe to turn, never mind take another step. “It’s okay, sunshine. I’m just crapping my pants here and I need some fresh air.” Another low growl when I attempted to take a step back. “You’re a cheerful thing, aren’t you? Now we have a small dilemma here; I’m between the sofa and the window. Which way do you want me to go?”

  Another small growl. Shit.

  “Uh, you have to . . .” I swallowed, feeling utterly stupid. “ . . . submit?” I made it sound like a question, thoroughly scared he was going to take umbrage with me and decide my arse would be tasty. My eyes widened at that thought. “Uh, my backside isn’t as juicy as it looks to you right now, I promise.”

  “Oh, I dunno. It looks mighty tasty to me.”

  I gasped and spun round. My eyes widened and my jaw fell open.

  “Hello again, Isla,” Adam greeted with an amused expression.

  I GRINNED AT ADAM as he beamed at me. Eventually he laughed and gestured with his chin for me to follow him. “Come on through.” On the way past Bernie, he stopped and put his hand on my shoulder. “Friend,” he said simply.

  Bernie jumped down from the sofa and trotted over to me, sticking his wet nose into my hand. I bent and petted him, stopping to concentrate on a particular spot behind his ear when my fingers scratched it and the huge beast whined like a timid puppy.

  I followed Adam through a door and into a large plush office. The back wall was made of glass and the view over the grounds took my breath. I wandered over to it, appreciating the vast stretch of green and the total tranquillity that seemed to travel as far as the eye could see.

  “Wow, you have an amazing view.”

  “Yeah.” He stood beside me. “That’s the golf course,” he said, pointing to what I’d seen on my way in. “We have some luxury cabins and chalets to the south side of the grounds.” He took my elbow and guided me further along the left side of the window. “If you peer over there, you’ll just see the edge of the health club.”

  “Impressive,” I remarked, squinting at another large white building in the background. “I saw the gym and casino as I came in. So what is this place?”

  “It’s a luxury resort. People come to relax for weekends, sometimes longer.”

  “Well, it’s stunning.”

  He nodded appreciatively, giving me another of his wide smiles. He ran his hand over his closely shaven brown hair, his striking blue eyes smiling. All of a sudden he grimaced then gestured for me to take a seat opposite him at a desk. “Unfortunately, the bartending job has gone.”

  I couldn’t help but feel disappointed, and my shoulders sagged.

  “However,” he continued, “I owe you a job.”

  I frowned. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have lost your last one.” When I opened my mouth to argue he held up a finger, silencing me. “I have a proposition for you.”

  I raised my brows and nodded for him to go on.

  “This place, as you can imagine, is a busy business. With the numerous subdivisions, and them being so far apart from each other, it can get on top of you when things need to be circulated between them all.” I nodded again. “Well, I wondered if you would consider a job as a runner?”

  “Oh.” I shook my head at him. “I don’t run, especially not in these heels.”

  He stared at me for a moment, his brow furrowed as though he was trying to figure something out. Suddenly, he barked out a laugh and shook his head, closing his eyes for a second. “No, Isla. I didn’t mean physically running. A runner is someone who runs around for people. You know, taking things from one sector to the other. If someone needs something specific, or maybe a client showing to a particular area in the grounds, then they would call you. Or sometimes it could simply be a nip to the shop, or if one of us has a meeting and we’ve forgotten something, then we would ring you to fetch it to us.”

  “Oh!” I quite liked the sound of that. It sounded active and fun.

  “Of course you would get a company car and all Deviant Company benefits, with a starting salary of . . . shall we say five K?”

  Five thousand a year? The job was obviously part-time. Shit, I wasn’t sure I could manage on that. Unless I claimed benefits as well. The car would save me a few hundred a month on the loan repayments but it was still quite low.

  “As much as the job sounds perfect, Adam, unfortunately I need something . . .” Oh God, how embarrassing. “ . . . a little higher paid. Although I really do appreciate your offer, I’m afraid this girl has too many shoes to pay for and five thousand a year would only pay for a couple.”

  He shook his head. “No, Isla. Five thousand a month. Around sixty annual pay.”

  My cheeks blushed at the wheeze that emptied from my chest. “Sixty thousand?”

  He nodded again, straight-faced.

  “It’s not a joke. Sixty thousand to run around after people?”

  He chuckled. “Isla, believe me, you will completely earn that. It will include being on call twenty-four-seven. Sometimes being summoned in the middle of the night if an emergency meeting is called and documents or . . . something needs collecting.” The way he said ‘something’ made me tense but I soon forgot about it with his next words. “It will also include accommodation on the grounds.”

  “What? Adam, forgive me but . . .” He nodded, encouraging me to voice my worries. “ . . . well, this all seems a little too good to be true. An astronomical wage, a car and accommodation. There has to be a catch.”

  He smiled brashly, his tongue coming out to lick his lips. “You’re a clever girl.” I knew there would be something that reversed the good vibe. “Deviant is an exclusive club, Isla. We cater to the rich and famous; billionaires, celebrities, those sorts of people. Discretion, especially towards the married clientele who like to visit with their friends, is something we pride ourselves in.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. I could handle that.

  He licked his lips again and leaned back in his chair, pushing up his shirt sleeves and revealing a huge covering of ink, surprising me. “There are also . . . other aspects of the job that require complete secrecy. Anything you hear, anything you may see, although I will tell you we do our best to keep everything confidential, there could be slip-ups, especially as you will be transporting delicate documents around.”

  “What kind of things?”

  He cocked his head and sighed faintly. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss the deta
ils, Isla, but I will need you to sign a non-disclosure, and with respect I will tell you that if you go back on that contract then your punishment will be severe. Let’s just call the benefits a little butter-up to ensure your loyalty.”

  It all sounded a little dodgy. But then I remembered I was two months behind with the rent, a month behind with the electricity bill and not forgetting the couple of hundred I’d borrowed from my parents. It was just too good to say no to. I was positive I could ignore the odd celebrity who liked to party without their partner, and an odd mysterious brown envelope now and then, especially for what was on offer.

  “Okay.” I smiled. “Why not?”

  He beamed at me. “Good girl. It will be a pleasure working over you.” He winked and I rolled my eyes at his innuendo, although I knew he was teasing.

  Opening his top drawer, he pulled out some papers and slid them across the table to me. “Take these home, scan through them and sign them then bring them back when you start. Monday?”

  I nodded taking the paperwork from him and slipping it in my bag. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “Me too. You’ll technically be working for me as we don’t really have a job description for you and can’t place you in any certain sector, so you need to report to me Monday morning. Eight?”

  I nodded. “Sure. Here?”

  He grabbed a piece of paper from a stack on his desk and wrote five digits on it then handed it to me as he pushed his chair back and stood up. “The code for the door. Just come up here. I’ll be around somewhere. Make yourself at home if I’m not here. I like my coffee black with one sugar.”

  I laughed as I turned to walk away. He followed to show me out but the phone on his desk rang. “It’s okay. I’ll find my way out.”

  “Sure?” he asked, looking from me to the phone.

  Nodding I waved him to his phone. “Go on.”

  He smiled and picked it up, answering it but not talking to whoever was on the other end. “I’ll see you Monday, Isla. We’ll sort out your accommodation and car then.”

  I nodded with a smile and let myself out, quietly closing his door behind me. Bernie shuffled up to me and I gave him a quick stroke. “You’re going to be seeing more of me, big boy,” I told him excitedly. He hummed a reply before I took another glance through the window, taking a look at my new place of employment.