"Barriers Built to Be Broken"
By Lady Crescent Moon and Renee Shields
The ad read, "For rent: luxurious, private wing equipped with 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, hired help service, 700th block of Madison Ave. in L.A. Visit by appt. only. Call S. Richardson at 742-8322."
The job relocation had been a pain in the ass already, but finding a place to stay while keeping a low profile was an even bigger one. Darien Shields was looking through a recent copy of The Wall Street Journal for a place to stay while his company, C.C.I., furnished a penthouse for him, a process that would take six months, at least.
The company jet landed. Darien took one last sip of his scotch on the rocks and picked up his briefcase. The sudden rush of muggy California air certainly contrasted to the mildness of downtown New York. Discomfort caught up with him when he realized that his thick Versace suit would be a bit much for the eighty-degree something air. Darien stepped down the jet staircase as some of the attendants grabbed his stowed belongings. He motioned for them to put it in the awaiting company limo. Even when annoyed, the C.E.O. still looked like the suave, sexy bachelor that had a reputation for breaking women's hearts back on the east coast.
Whether it was the climate or jet lag, Darien let out a huge sigh of relief when he entered the cool, air-conditioned seats of the limo. He took off the sports jacket of his outfit and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. He wanted sleep, but it would not come, even after he had made himself comfortable with a boost of cold air and a club soda from the fridge. He closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head, but his attempt at relaxation was interrupted by the driver's voice.
"Sir, where would you like to go?" the driver asked.
Darien took a sip of the drink, picked up the folded newspaper, and flipped to the ad. "700th block of Madison Avenue, Richardson residence" he read from the paper.
"Right away, sir," the driver replied. Darien then hit a button and the space between he and the driver was separated by a thin, black partition.
Serena Richardson was at her business desk, busy talking away on her phone. "The rent is $2,000 a month."
A look of shock and revulsion flitted across her face. "No, you can't pay me with sex!" She slammed the phone down. "Sick bastard," she muttered under her breath.
She took off her glasses and massaged her temples in frustration. "Rei! Make me a martini, now!" she commanded over the intercom system that echoed throughout the sixty-three-room mansion.
It had been a week since she placed the ad. But it wasn't an issue of money—as the president of a fortune-500 company she had plenty. A change of environment or a change of pace was what she referred to her sudden interest in becoming a landlord. Seconds later, the phone rang and her secretary picked up. Serena put her head down on her desk, wondering when her drink would arrive; she desperately needed something to calm her nerves.
Ami was talking on the phone with a prospective tenant. "Sir, the only days that she has available are next Tuesday and Friday. Other than that, her schedule is booked." A face of nervousness took over her usually, calm and in-control expression. "Sir, now would not be a good time to come visit…are you crazy!?! You're already at the gate?"
Serena stomped out of her office and toward her secretary's desk after hearing the last comment Ami made. Her high heels were clicking with a commandeering resonance that anyone within a twenty-mile radius knew she meant business. Serena grabbed the phone from Ami, who shuddered and stepped back as soon as Serena took the phone.
"Who's on the phone, Ami?" Serena asked.
"Um…a Mr. Shields, Ms. Serena," Ami replied.
"Mr. Shields, you will have to make an appointment like all the other prospective lessees and I absolutely will not make an exception to cater to your demands and see you today," she stated. Her hold on the phone worried Ami; it seemed as if fury was the only thing coursing through her veins.
"Too bad, I'm already at the front entrance and my driver is unloading my luggage," Darien said. Before Serena could make a comment, he hung up. She let out another exasperated sigh and slammed office door as she headed toward the main greeting room.
Rei was carrying Serena's martini up to her office when she and Serena crossed paths. A look of bewilderment flickered over her face, but quickly hit it. "Here's your—"
Serena grabbed the glass and gulped it down, olive and all. She then slammed the glass back down on Rei's perfectly polished serving tray. Turning on her heels, she faced the great oak door and marched with determination. Before Rei departed, she could hear Serena muttering, "…that stupid ass."
A sophisticated figure appeared on the monitor system screen beside the door. He approached the entrance, motioning the driver to carry the luggage toward him.
Mina was about to open the door when Serena intercepted. She grabbed the brass door handle and swung it open, narrowly missing Mina's face. Darien stood at the door entrance, sport jacket hung over his left shoulder and his right hand in his pocket. Through his Ray-Ban sunglasses, he looked at the attractive woman.
Attractive? He meant a stunning, gorgeous woman. She was wearing a navy blue Gucci business ensemble, her feet adorned with Prada heels. Wispy gold-strands of hair fell from the formerly tight French twist. Her eyes glittered in annoyance and her cheeks were flushed with anger and from the shot of martini. Her chest heaving, she glared at him with an intensity that could turn anything to ice.
He lowered his sunglasses and gave her a pointed look. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked in a suggestive tone and gave her a pointed look.
Her hand itched to find its way across his face. Teeth clenched, she replied, "Not at all. Can I help you with something?"
"I'm your tenant, remember? I want to go to my wing now. Do you mind?"
"Yes I mind!" Serena bit out. "I'm a very busy woman, Mr. Shields. We do not have an appointment and you are interrupting my schedule."
"No, you are interrupting MY schedule. Now if you don't mind, I would like to go in my room," he said as he barged his way in, luggage and all, pushing a shocked Serena out of the doorway.
"Wha-What the? Who the hell do you think you are?" she sputtered. "Rei! Get in here right now!"
"What do you want n—I didn't know you had company," she said, batting her eyes and smiled flirtatiously at the stranger, who smiled back at her amused.
"I don't," Serena nearly snarled. "He's about to leave."
He brazenly grinned at her annoyance for a second before he quickly covered it up with what seemed dangerously close to a pout. "Ms. Richardson refuses to allow me to stay as her tenant and so I have no where else to go…*sigh* but I guess that cannot be helped. Well, good day, ladies." He picked up his luggage and headed for the door.
Raye's eyes swung to Serena who looked on victoriously. "Serena!" she muttered under her breath. "Just let him stay!"
The blond scowled. Although Darien's act was obviously a sham, her previously firm decision wavered. She heaved a sigh. "Whatever, I give up, Mr. Shields! I'll let you stay but you must play by my rules. No parties."
"Agreed."
"No women."
"Fine."
"No wandering through my house"
"Done."
"Good," she growled. "And stay out of my sight." She stomped away, leaving an elated Rei and a smirking Darien.
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By Lady Crescent Moon and Renee Shields
The ad read, "For rent: luxurious, private wing equipped with 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, hired help service, 700th block of Madison Ave. in L.A. Visit by appt. only. Call S. Richardson at 742-8322."
The job relocation had been a pain in the ass already, but finding a place to stay while keeping a low profile was an even bigger one. Darien Shields was looking through a recent copy of The Wall Street Journal for a place to stay while his company, C.C.I., furnished a penthouse for him, a process that would take six months, at least.
The company jet landed. Darien took one last sip of his scotch on the rocks and picked up his briefcase. The sudden rush of muggy California air certainly contrasted to the mildness of downtown New York. Discomfort caught up with him when he realized that his thick Versace suit would be a bit much for the eighty-degree something air. Darien stepped down the jet staircase as some of the attendants grabbed his stowed belongings. He motioned for them to put it in the awaiting company limo. Even when annoyed, the C.E.O. still looked like the suave, sexy bachelor that had a reputation for breaking women's hearts back on the east coast.
Whether it was the climate or jet lag, Darien let out a huge sigh of relief when he entered the cool, air-conditioned seats of the limo. He took off the sports jacket of his outfit and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. He wanted sleep, but it would not come, even after he had made himself comfortable with a boost of cold air and a club soda from the fridge. He closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head, but his attempt at relaxation was interrupted by the driver's voice.
"Sir, where would you like to go?" the driver asked.
Darien took a sip of the drink, picked up the folded newspaper, and flipped to the ad. "700th block of Madison Avenue, Richardson residence" he read from the paper.
"Right away, sir," the driver replied. Darien then hit a button and the space between he and the driver was separated by a thin, black partition.
Serena Richardson was at her business desk, busy talking away on her phone. "The rent is $2,000 a month."
A look of shock and revulsion flitted across her face. "No, you can't pay me with sex!" She slammed the phone down. "Sick bastard," she muttered under her breath.
She took off her glasses and massaged her temples in frustration. "Rei! Make me a martini, now!" she commanded over the intercom system that echoed throughout the sixty-three-room mansion.
It had been a week since she placed the ad. But it wasn't an issue of money—as the president of a fortune-500 company she had plenty. A change of environment or a change of pace was what she referred to her sudden interest in becoming a landlord. Seconds later, the phone rang and her secretary picked up. Serena put her head down on her desk, wondering when her drink would arrive; she desperately needed something to calm her nerves.
Ami was talking on the phone with a prospective tenant. "Sir, the only days that she has available are next Tuesday and Friday. Other than that, her schedule is booked." A face of nervousness took over her usually, calm and in-control expression. "Sir, now would not be a good time to come visit…are you crazy!?! You're already at the gate?"
Serena stomped out of her office and toward her secretary's desk after hearing the last comment Ami made. Her high heels were clicking with a commandeering resonance that anyone within a twenty-mile radius knew she meant business. Serena grabbed the phone from Ami, who shuddered and stepped back as soon as Serena took the phone.
"Who's on the phone, Ami?" Serena asked.
"Um…a Mr. Shields, Ms. Serena," Ami replied.
"Mr. Shields, you will have to make an appointment like all the other prospective lessees and I absolutely will not make an exception to cater to your demands and see you today," she stated. Her hold on the phone worried Ami; it seemed as if fury was the only thing coursing through her veins.
"Too bad, I'm already at the front entrance and my driver is unloading my luggage," Darien said. Before Serena could make a comment, he hung up. She let out another exasperated sigh and slammed office door as she headed toward the main greeting room.
Rei was carrying Serena's martini up to her office when she and Serena crossed paths. A look of bewilderment flickered over her face, but quickly hit it. "Here's your—"
Serena grabbed the glass and gulped it down, olive and all. She then slammed the glass back down on Rei's perfectly polished serving tray. Turning on her heels, she faced the great oak door and marched with determination. Before Rei departed, she could hear Serena muttering, "…that stupid ass."
A sophisticated figure appeared on the monitor system screen beside the door. He approached the entrance, motioning the driver to carry the luggage toward him.
Mina was about to open the door when Serena intercepted. She grabbed the brass door handle and swung it open, narrowly missing Mina's face. Darien stood at the door entrance, sport jacket hung over his left shoulder and his right hand in his pocket. Through his Ray-Ban sunglasses, he looked at the attractive woman.
Attractive? He meant a stunning, gorgeous woman. She was wearing a navy blue Gucci business ensemble, her feet adorned with Prada heels. Wispy gold-strands of hair fell from the formerly tight French twist. Her eyes glittered in annoyance and her cheeks were flushed with anger and from the shot of martini. Her chest heaving, she glared at him with an intensity that could turn anything to ice.
He lowered his sunglasses and gave her a pointed look. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked in a suggestive tone and gave her a pointed look.
Her hand itched to find its way across his face. Teeth clenched, she replied, "Not at all. Can I help you with something?"
"I'm your tenant, remember? I want to go to my wing now. Do you mind?"
"Yes I mind!" Serena bit out. "I'm a very busy woman, Mr. Shields. We do not have an appointment and you are interrupting my schedule."
"No, you are interrupting MY schedule. Now if you don't mind, I would like to go in my room," he said as he barged his way in, luggage and all, pushing a shocked Serena out of the doorway.
"Wha-What the? Who the hell do you think you are?" she sputtered. "Rei! Get in here right now!"
"What do you want n—I didn't know you had company," she said, batting her eyes and smiled flirtatiously at the stranger, who smiled back at her amused.
"I don't," Serena nearly snarled. "He's about to leave."
He brazenly grinned at her annoyance for a second before he quickly covered it up with what seemed dangerously close to a pout. "Ms. Richardson refuses to allow me to stay as her tenant and so I have no where else to go…*sigh* but I guess that cannot be helped. Well, good day, ladies." He picked up his luggage and headed for the door.
Raye's eyes swung to Serena who looked on victoriously. "Serena!" she muttered under her breath. "Just let him stay!"
The blond scowled. Although Darien's act was obviously a sham, her previously firm decision wavered. She heaved a sigh. "Whatever, I give up, Mr. Shields! I'll let you stay but you must play by my rules. No parties."
"Agreed."
"No women."
"Fine."
"No wandering through my house"
"Done."
"Good," she growled. "And stay out of my sight." She stomped away, leaving an elated Rei and a smirking Darien.
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