The house dwarfed everything on the street and I remembered my mother telling me that the father of the two children I were about to babysit, was divorced, but he worked as the CEO of Jackson Industries. When I'd asked my mother about, just exactly what it was that 'Jackson Industries' manufactured... she'd been vague and murmured something under her breath about machines.
I'd never met the man before. I'd only ever passed the street on my way to school a few times, only to see him in the driveway of the giant mansion at the end of the cul-de-sac, about to get into a gleaming Range Rover, dressed in a business suit, carrying nothing but a black, leather briefcase.
I was sure I'd caught him stealing glances my way whenever he'd driven past me. I always used to check that my skirt wasn't tucked in to my panties by accident, since I was sure that was where he was looking, but with the windows tinted until they were almost completely blacked out, it was hard to tell.
But on this particular day, I wasn't on my way to school. No...I was going to the house.
The school holidays had started and I was getting to that age where I needed to get a job and start earning some pocket money. I had just turned seventeen, but even a few hours work a week was enough. Just enough so that I could start paying for things like my phone bill and any new clothes I wanted when I was out shopping with my friends from school. Just so I didn't have to ask my mother for money every time I wanted to go somewhere.
I'd applied for jobs everywhere, but it seemed that nowhere had any available positions. As a last resort, my mother had insisted that I put an ad out in the local newspaper, advertising as a babysitter. I could look after kids, I'd looked after my younger cousins, plenty of times, with little to no trouble.
Almost as soon as the newspaper had been released the next day, my mother had received a call from Mr. Jackson just soon after I'd left for school, saying he was interested in hiring me permanently, to babysit his children two days during the week, Monday, Thursday and one day on the weekend, Saturday.
The hours were excellent and the pay was way more than I could have ever expected. At twenty five dollars an hour, there was no way I was turning this job offer down. I assumed it was because Mr. Jackson was rich, and that was why he was willing to pay me so much.
But I was soon to realise that what Mr. Jackson had, was a more sinister agenda...
I rapped my knuckles lightly on the mahogany door. I was wearing a blue summer baby-doll dress that fell to around the middle of my thighs, figuring it was simple enough to be worn to a babysitting job.
I heard footsteps approaching from the other side, and door was slowly opened to reveal a tall, handsome man, who looked to be in his mid-thirties, with a full head of gorgeous black waves. His piercing brown eyes startling me as they captured my vivid, blue ones.
A warm smile graced his lips, "Good afternoon, Miss Tate, please come in..." he greeted, stepping to the side graciously, gesturing for me to enter the grand house.
I returned his smile and stepped inside, my eyes immediately widening a fraction as they took in the luxurious decor that decorated the interior of the house.
"So your mother informed of you of the details pertaining to my children..." he spoke from behind me and I instantly noticed how velvet-smooth his voice was.
My eyes travelled around the room in amazement, "Yes, sir..." I replied, trying to keep the awe out of my voice.
I turned to face him, "You have twins? Six years old, a boy and girl, Paris and Prince, am I right?" I nodded at him, in search of approval.
He smiled that warm smile again, "Yes, that is correct...here, let me show you around the house..." he said, walking towards me, placing a hand on my lower back to guide me. A gesture I would have personally thought was a tad inappropriate considering I was in this house alone.
He showed me the kitchen, the lounge room and the backyard, which had a pool by the way, which were all on the ground level, before ushering me up the stairs to show me to the bathroom, the children's bedrooms, his own bedroom, which again I thought was a little strange before he stopped me outside of a closed door.
He pointed to the door, "This, my dear, is my study, I keep it locked at all times, but if, in the event that you happen to find it unlocked, please do not, under any circumstances, enter the room..." he warned, sternly. I swallowed thickly and nodded, storing the instruction away for future reference.
He held my gaze for a little while, just long enough for it to be uncomfortable, before a loud knock was heard on the front door, down stairs, pulling me out of my reverie. Mr. Jackson cursed under his breath and moved past me, and I took that as my cue to follow him. I walked down the stairs, following closely behind him.
He reached over to the door handle and opened the door, revealing two absolutely adorable children. A saw a Porsche speed off down the street and into the distance, and assumed that that was their mother that must have dropped them off. She must have left Mr. Jackson, with at least half of his money, the man was a multi-millionaire.
The kids shrieked and laughed as they jumped into the arms of their father, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight of the broken yet happy family.
The young boy, Prince was the first to notice me standing awkwardly in the background when he asked, "Dad, who's that?"
"That's Diana, son...she's here to look after you and your sister, while you're here and I'm at work, now...she's in charge, so if you want her to be nice to you, you have to treat her with respect okay?" he said, patting his son on the shoulder, "Remember what I always tell you?"
Prince nodded, "Never disrespect a woman..." he answered, monotonously as if he was reciting a line from a play book.
"And that includes your sister too...so no fighting...okay?" he said, kissing his son and his daughter both on their foreheads, before straightening up and turning back to me.
"My ex-wife needed me to watch over the kids tonight, but of course I am unable to, as I have an important meeting with the board of directors, but I shall be back in a few hours in time for dinner...there's pasta in the cupboard...I expect it to be on the table by six o'clock..." he said, and with that he wordlessly walked out the door, leaving me alone with the two children.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I had just tipped the last of the Napolitana pasta sauce into the steel pot and began mixing it in with the fettuccine when Prince and Paris had shut off the television that I had left them in front of for the last hour or so, it seemed to keep them entertained while I made dinner. The first thing I noticed about the two children, was that they were both extremely well behaved for their age. Either they were placid children or Michael was an extremely strict parent.
The two children made their way over to the dinner table as I began filling the bowls up with pasta. I checked the time, it was six o'clock, and Mr. Jackson would be home at any time now. I quickened my pace, dumping the pasta into the three bowls, and immediately noticed that there was some left, but I didn't want to intrude, deciding that I would just grab dinner at home instead.
There was a knock on the door just as I placed the bowls down on the table. I padded over to the door and opened it to reveal Mr. Jackson shrugging out of a long black coat, the winter chill seeping through the doorway, making chills run down my exposed arms.
"Good evening, Miss Tate," he said, stepping into the warm house. I took his coat from him and he smiled appreciatively at me as I hung it on the coat rack next to the door.
"I trust dinner is ready? Smells delicious..." he commented, as he moved past me, heading straight to the dinner table.
"Yes, of course, all plated up just like you asked..." I replied, walking over behind him, my hands clasped behind my back.
He stopped upon reaching the dinner table, glancing around at the three plates and I immediately cursed myself as I noticed him frowning. Oh god, what have I forgotten? Trust me to stuff something up on my first night.
"Diana? Why are there only three plates?" he asked and I was slightly taken aback by his question and before I had time to speak, he spoke again, "You are more than welcome to join us for dinner, you're shift doesn't end for another hour..."
Despite the hollow feeling in my stomach, I decided to politely decline, "Oh no, Mr. Jackson, I couldn't, I'm not really-"
"I insist, Diana..." he interjected, his tone was firm, as if he wasn't going to take no for an answer. In response, I hesitantly moved to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl, filling the bowl with the small portion of pasta from the pot. I sat down opposite Mr. Jackson and blushed slightly under his scrutinising gaze from the other end of the table.
The children started to eat, just as he spoke, "So tell me a little bit about yourself, Diana..."
"Well, Mr. Jackson, there's not much to know-" I began, but I was cut off by his husky voice.
"Nonsense, you play a sport?" he asked, eloquently, twirling some of the pasta around on his fork as he eyed me, curiously.
I licked my lips, nervously, before answering, "I...uh...I'm on the school gymnastics team..."
"Ah...so you're flexible then?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. I paused, staring at him a moment but he seemed unfazed by my growing anxiousness.
"U-uh I suppose I am..." I stammered, quickly shoving a fork full of pasta into my mouth, hoping he would see and take this as a sign to not ask me anymore questions.
But much to my dismay, he continued with his line of questioning, "So..." he began, pursing his lips, "...Boyfriend?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and I almost choked on my food. I quickly, swallowed, concentrating on getting the pasta down the right way.
"No, Mr. Jackson...I don't have a boyfriend..." I replied, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.
"Why not?" He frowned at me and I hesitated for a moment, just as Paris spoke up.
"You're really pretty..." she commented and I felt myself relax at the sound of her small voice.
"Thank you, Paris, you're very pretty yourself..." I smiled back her and she began absent-mindedly eating her pasta again. When I looked up to see Mr. Jackson, still staring at me, waiting for answer.
"Uh, it's just that...I don't really like anybody around my age...I guess..." I admitted, which was true, all the boys in my year at school could be incredibly stupid and childish at times and it annoyed the hell out of me.
Mr. Jackson smirked and then nodded more to himself than to me, "That's not such a bad thing, Diana...I'd hate to think a girl as sweet as you would be hanging around immature boys, because that's exactly what they are at that age...what you need is a man..."
My eyes widened a fraction at his words, but to hide the full spectrum of emotions that I was experiencing at the progression of the conversation, I stuffed the last forkful of pasta into my mouth and began chewing away silently.
"Are you alright to go home now, Diana? You're welcome to stay for a while longer, if you'd like..." he trailed, moving to get up from his seat.
"Uh, no it's fine, I better head home now, Mum's probably expecting me home soon anyway...thank you..." I answered, politely as I stacked the bowls and put them on the kitchen sink.
Mr. Jackson picked up his keys and I turned to look at him, "I'll drive you home, it's too cold outside for you to walk..." he murmured.
"Oh no, Mr. Jackson, it's okay really, my house just around the corner, it's only a five minute walk-" I raced, not really liking the idea of being trapped in a car alone with this man. I didn't really know what it exactly was about this man, that made me feel so uncomfortable...it was just one of those creepy vibes.
"Don't be silly, Diana, you'll freeze... I'll drive you and give you, your payment when we reach your house..." he countered. Damn, now I have to get in the car with him, if I want to get paid...
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The ride over to my house was silent, but the heater in the Range Rover was glorious after being out in the freezing cold wind. I inhaled sharply, making a small hiss sound as I shivered slightly in my seat and Mr. Jackson`s looked over at me.
"Cold?" he asked, "I can turn the heater on a little more if you'd like?"
"Uh...no, that's okay, I just got a cold shiver is all..." I replied, and by the way I was fidgeting, you could tell that I was itching to get out of the car.
The car stopped at my front gates and I went to get out, only to find the doors locked. My heart skipped a beat, when I felt his hand grip my thigh and I stiffened under his touch. That was definitely not okay, but I tried my best to remain calm and downplay the sheer panic that I was currently feeling.
"You did an excellent job looking after Prince and Paris tonight and dinner was amazing, I'm impressed..." he told me, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the outside of my thigh.
"T-thank you...M-Mr. Jackson..." I stuttered, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Please, call me Michael...only my employees call me that..." he urged, his eyes staring straight ahead.
"Am I n-not your employee?" I laughed nervously, my hands beginning to shake from how intimidating the entire situation had become and I silently prayed that my mother would come out to the car just to say hello or something dumb like that. But knowing my luck, things rarely ever went my way.
He chuckled, darkly, "Oh Diana, I think we both know that you're a little more than...just an employee..."
I honestly wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I all knew was, was that this man, whose first name happened to be Michael, was terrifying the hell out of me right now. His hand crept further up my thigh and every cell in my body screamed for him to unlock the car doors so I could sprint to my front door.
"Here's your payment..." he said, slipping me a plain white envelope, filled thickly with cash, but upon grabbing it, I noticed that there was something else in there. I didn't dare open it up in front of him.
"Thank you..." I proclaimed and went to get out of the car again, only to find that the doors were still locked.
"Mr. Jackson, c-can you p-please unlock the door?" I begged, my fear reaching new heights as his hand settled on the area between my legs. I heard the doors unlock and I immediately jumped out of the vehicle. Sprinting up the pathway to my house. Just as I reached the front door, I began frantically knocking, I looked back to see the headlights on the Range Rover, disappearing down the street.
Just as I was about to start banging my fist on the door, my mother answered.
"Diana, what's wrong? You look like you've just seen a ghost..." she commented, taking in my visibly shaken form. I don't know why I did, what I did next...but I lied to her.
"I...uh, I was just frightened from standing out here in the dark, by myself...is all..." I mumbled, pushing my way inside.
"Would you like some dinner, honey?" she asked, and I could smell the fresh baked vegetables from the kitchen. They smelt amazing.
"No, it's fine, I already ate at Michael`s house..." I called, running up the stairs to my bedroom.
"Oooh! Already first name basis, huh?" My mother teased, but she literally had no idea.
I slammed my bedroom door and collapsed to the floor, opening up the envelope with shaky hands, I pulled out the wad of cash, and already I could tell that there was way too much in here. I counted over five hundred dollars for only a few hours of babysitting...
I reached into the envelope a second time and my fingers caught something strange, something that felt almost like fabric...sort of like...like lace. I slowly pulled out the item and I was met with the sight of a pair of black, lacy Victoria's Secret cheekster panties.
I clapped a hand over my mouth to silence the sob that bubbled up from my throat. I suddenly felt very sick to my stomach.
Attached to the panties with a safety pin was a single note that read...
'Can't wait to see you in this next time... Love MJ xx'