Chapter 1: You're not getting rid of me.
"Thomas,"
Guy's voice breaks through the silence, his frustration evident in his tone.
I turned to face him, curiosity piqued. "Yes?"
"I need you to post that paper to Jake for me," he says, his request direct and urgent.
"What paper?" I respond, feeling a pang of confusion as I try to recall the myriad documents he's handed me recently.
"The one about the advertising for my upcoming film," Guy retorts, his impatience creeping into his voice.
"Oh, that one," I reply sheepishly, the realization dawning as I search through the papers scattered across my desk.
Guy's annoyance seems to escalate, his patience wearing thin. "Thomas, you're so clueless," he snaps. "When you learn to do your job, then I won't get upset."
I feel a surge of indignation at his words, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Well, would you like it if I just quit and left you to do all of this by yourself?" I retort, my voice tinged with defiance.
Before I can say more, Guy strides over to me, pulling me close with a gentler touch. "You know I would be devastated if you quit," he murmurs, sincerity evident in his tone.
A flutter of conflicting emotions stirs within me as Guy's lips meet mine in a tender kiss. Despite my reservations, I find myself yielding to his advances, the undeniable passion between us taking hold.
But as the intensity of the moment fades, unease settles in. This isn't right –
"Guy why do you treat me like I'm just your play toy. When I applied to be your assistant that's what I applied for.. Not to be at your service at your beck and call."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, handsome," Guy murmurs, regret coloring his words.
As he draws me closer, guilt and longing intertwine within me. Despite my misgivings, I surrender to the moment, losing myself in the embrace.
Hours later, as darkness descends upon the villa, I awaken to find myself wrapped in Guy's warmth. But as I glance at the clock and see it's past 7 o'clock, unease washes over me – a reminder of the complexities of our relationship and the uncertainties ahead.
Feeling sleepy, I mumble, "Guy, I got to go."
Guy responds with a sleepy murmur, "No, stay here. Go back to sleep."
I chuckle softly, shaking my head. "That wouldn't be very professional, would it?" I reply with a smile.
With a smirk, Guy teases, "Nothing you did an hour ago was professional."
Heat rushes to my cheeks at his comment, and I quickly extricate myself from Guy's embrace. I hastily put my clothes back on, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.
As I bid Guy goodbye, I can't help but shake my head at the antics of the night. Despite the undeniable attraction between us, I know that professionalism must always come first. With a lingering glance, I slip out the door, ready to face whatever challenges the day may bring.
。。。
As the sun rises on the bustling streets of Hollywood, I find myself weaving through the throngs of people, a sense of purpose driving me forward. With a list of errands in hand, courtesy of Mr. Dexter, my day is already shaping up to be a whirlwind of activity.
First stop: the studio archives. Stepping into the dimly lit room, shelves upon shelves of film reels tower above me, a testament to the rich history of Hollywood. With practiced efficiency, I locate the profile photos Mr. Dexter requested, carefully checking each one off my list before tucking them under my arm.
Next, it's off to the costume department. The air is alive with the sound of sewing machines and the rustle of fabric as costume designers work their magic. I exchange pleasantries with the staff as I search for the perfect ensemble for Mr. Dexter's upcoming photo shoot. After much deliberation, I settle on a sleek, tailored suit, confident it will impress.
With the costume secured, I make my way to the florist to pick up a bouquet of fresh flowers – a small gesture to brighten Mr. Dexter's day. The scent of roses fills the air as I carefully select the blooms, mindful of Mr. Dexter's preferences.
Finally, it's time to return to the studio lot, a sense of accomplishment swelling within me as I tick off the last item on my list. As I make my way to Mr. Dexter's office, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Despite the hustle and bustle of Hollywood, there's a quiet satisfaction in knowing that I've completed my tasks to the best of my ability, ensuring that Mr. Dexter's needs are met with the utmost care and attention to detail.
As I knock on his door and step inside, I'm greeted with a warm smile and a nod of approval. "Ah, Thomas. Right on time as always. Did you manage to procure everything on the list?"
I nod, presenting him with the reels, the suit, and the bouquet of flowers. "Of course, Mr. Dexter. Everything you requested, just as you specified."
He examines each item with a critical eye, nodding in satisfaction. "Excellent work, Thomas. You never cease to impress me with your efficiency and attention to detail."
I offer a modest smile in response, a sense of pride swelling within me. Despite the challenges and uncertainties of this new life in Hollywood, moments like these remind me that I am capable of rising to the occasion, of proving my worth in a world that once seemed so daunting.
As I leave Mr. Dexter's office, a spring in my step, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to serve him. In a city where dreams are made and broken with each passing moment, it's a privilege to play a small part in bringing his vision to life.
。。。
Guy had asked me to meet him outside of the set at lunchbreak. It was unusual, but I complied, curious about what he had in mind. As I approached the designated spot, I couldn't help but wonder what Guy had planned.
As I approached Guy, his warm smile greeted me, filling me with a sense of anticipation. However, his next words caught me off guard.
"I need you to run a few errands for me," he said, his tone serious, shifting the mood from casual to business-like in an instant.
I nodded, suppressing my surprise at the sudden change in direction. "Of course, Guy. What do you need?"
He proceeded to outline the tasks he needed me to complete, each one more urgent than the last. With my notebook at the ready, I braced myself for whatever tasks he had in store for me. It seemed like a wise move, considering Guy's knack for being direct. As he spoke, I listened attentively, taking both mental and written notes of the locations, deadlines, and specific instructions he provided.
As Guy and I strolled across the pavement, I struggled to match his brisk pace. His long strides forced me to quicken my steps, and I struggled to keep up with his determined stride. Despite my efforts, I couldn't help but feel a pang of inadequacy as I lagged behind, keenly aware of the contrast between his confident gait and my own faltering steps.
"First up, I've got a scene to shoot, and it's going to keep me busy until around six. I'm assuming William filled you in on that," Guy stated, his tone businesslike.
"Yeah, he did," I confirmed, trying to sound composed despite the flurry of nerves in my stomach.
"Great. While I'm on set, I'll need you to grab a snack for me. I usually get hungry after filming. How about a turkey sandwich with all the trimmings? Just make sure there are no onions. And I'm guessing William also mentioned my social calendar. I've got a charity ball next Friday, and I'll need you to accompany me to pick out a tux. You're into fashion, right?"
"Yes, I am," I replied, mentally adding these new responsibilities to my mental checklist.
"Perfect. You'll come with me to choose one and get it tailored. And tonight, I'm planning to hang out with some friends. I'll need you to tag along and make sure I don't overdo it. Sound good?"
"Absolutely," I agreed, trying to suppress the nervous flutter in my chest.
"No objections to joining me tonight, even though you'll be with people you don't know, getting a bit wild?" Guy inquired, sounding skeptical.
"None at all," I assured him, determined to prove my reliability.
"Interesting," Guy mused, his gaze lingering on me thoughtfully. "You strike me as someone pretty innocent. Quiet, obedient—a good guy who's never really taken any risks."
"Those are some assumptions," I commented, feeling a pang of guilt at the accuracy of his assessment. It was true that I tended to keep a low profile and follow orders without question. And while I'd had my share of fun back home, I hardly fit the typical Hollywood mold.
"Care to dispute them?" Guy asked, his gaze piercing.
"You can draw your own conclusions. My main focus is getting the job done," I replied, trying to keep my tone even despite the internal turmoil.
"Hmm," Guy murmured, looking somewhat unimpressed. I furrowed my brow, wondering what he was really getting at. His next words caught me off guard.
"You're quite focused, you know? It's kind of endearing," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. I couldn't help but feel a flush of embarrassment at his comment.
"Did I miss something?" I asked, feeling a bit bewildered by his sudden shift in tone.
"That's precisely it. You haven't missed a beat. But don't worry... I'll shake things up," he said with a smirk, quickening his pace as we approached the door. "Food's waiting for you on the back table. I'll catch up with you during the break."
As Guy headed off to join his colleagues, I let out a sigh, feeling a mix of anticipation and trepidation. Working for Guy Dexter was clearly going to be an adventure, but I was determined to rise to the challenge. Despite the uncertainties ahead, I refused to back down. After all, I had come too far to let a few obstacles derail my ambitions.
。。。
One thing I hadn't been prepared for was the sheer volume of work that came with being Guy Dexter's assistant. From the moment I stepped into the role, I was sent darting across California on endless errands. First, it was rushing to the tailor's to pick up Guy's tuxedo for the charity ball, only to find out it needed last-minute alterations. Then, I had to navigate the bustling streets of Hollywood to pick up Guy's favorite coffee order from a trendy café across town.
As if that wasn't enough, I was also tasked with coordinating Guy's jam-packed schedule, fielding calls from agents and managers, and ensuring that every minute detail was meticulously arranged. The workload seemed to grow exponentially with each passing day, leaving me feeling overwhelmed and stretched thin.
。。。
After Guy finished filming, he met me again, and I handed him the sandwich. He took a bite but stopped midway, a frown forming on his face.
"What are these things in the sandwich?" Guy asked, picking out a small piece of onion.
I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized my mistake. "I apologize, I didn't realize there were onions in it. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," I said quickly, hoping to remedy the situation.
Guy's expression softened slightly, and he nodded, setting the sandwich aside. "It's fine. Just be more careful next time," he replied, his tone surprisingly gentle.
Relieved that I hadn't incurred his wrath, I made a mental note to double-check all future food orders. It was a small oversight, but one that could have easily been avoided.
As we resumed our conversation, Guy's demeanor shifted back to business. "So, about the charity ball next Friday. Have you made arrangements for the tuxedo fitting?" he asked, seamlessly transitioning to the next item on his agenda.
"Yes, I've scheduled the appointment for tomorrow afternoon. I'll send you the details shortly," I replied, grateful for the chance to redeem myself.
Guy nodded in approval, and we continued to discuss the logistics of the upcoming event. Despite the hiccup with the sandwich, I was determined to prove my competence and reliability as Guy's assistant.
Guy informed me that I needed to meet at his villa at 8 o'clock sharp, as the limo would arrive at nine to pick us up. He mentioned that some of his friends, whom I hadn't met before, would be joining us for the ride. Just as he finished explaining the plan, the bell rang, signaling that he had to return to filming.
"I won't pick you up at the set, and drive you home?"
"No, William is driving me home today. So don't worry about that." He smiled.
"That's the sign, see you later Barrow!"
。。。
As the clock struck eight, I found myself standing nervously outside Guy's villa, my heart racing with anticipation and a hint of apprehension. Guy's instructions echoed in my mind, reminding me of the impending arrival of the limo and the unknown faces I would soon encounter.
The door swung open, revealing Guy's familiar silhouette against the warm glow of the villa's interior. "Thomas, right on time," he greeted me with a smile, his voice laced with excitement.
I returned his smile, albeit somewhat nervously. "Wouldn't want to keep the limo waiting," I replied, attempting to mask my unease.
Guy ushered me inside, the grandeur of the villa enveloping me as I stepped across the threshold. The air was filled with a sense of anticipation, mingled with the faint scent of perfume and the distant hum of conversation.
As we made our way to the living room, Guy filled me in on the details of the evening ahead. He spoke animatedly about his friends who would be joining us, their names and professions swirling in my mind as I tried to keep up with his rapid-fire explanations.
As we waited in the living room for the limo to arrive, Guy suddenly turned to me with a request. "Thomas, could you do me a favor and make some tea in the kitchen?" he asked, his tone casual yet urgent.
Surprised by the unexpected task, I nodded. "Sure thing, Guy," I replied, rising from the plush sofa and making my way to the kitchen.
As I filled the kettle with water and selected the appropriate tea leaves, my mind buzzed with questions. Why the sudden need for tea? Was there a particular reason Guy wanted it now, of all times?
Despite my curiosity, I focused on the task at hand, determined to fulfill Guy's request with efficiency and precision. After all, as his assistant, it was my job to anticipate his needs and ensure his comfort – even if that meant brewing tea at a moment's notice.
As the kettle began to whistle and the scent of steeping tea filled the air, I couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the evening held in store. Little did I know, this seemingly mundane task would be just the beginning of an unforgettable night.
。。。
At nine o'clock sharp, the limo pulled up outside Guy's villa, its sleek exterior gleaming under the moonlight. To me, it appeared to be just an extended automobile, but Guy assured me that it was the epitome of luxury.
As we stepped out of the villa and approached the waiting limo, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight before me. The vehicle exuded opulence, from its polished exterior to its plush leather interior. It was clear that Guy spared no expense when it came to his transportation.
As we climbed into the limo, I found myself surrounded by Guy's friends, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Despite my initial apprehension, I couldn't help but be drawn into the lively atmosphere, the excitement of the evening ahead palpable.
As I settled into the luxurious confines of the limo, I was introduced by name to everyone in the group. Each person greeted me warmly, their smiles and handshakes welcoming me into their circle. However, amidst the flurry of introductions and polite conversation, I couldn't help but feel a sense of overwhelm.
Despite my best efforts to commit their names to memory, it would take some time for me to connect each face to its corresponding name. As the journey progressed, I made a mental note to pay closer attention to each individual, determined to forge genuine connections with my newfound companions. After all, in Hollywood, networking was key, and I was eager to make a lasting impression on those around me.
The limo hummed to life as Dexter's command pierced through the chatter. "Take us to The Cocoanut Grove, Alexander," he instructed the chauffeur, and we were off. The smooth ride did little to calm my nerves, which were beginning to fray at the edges. Here I was, surrounded by strangers in a lavish limo, feeling like a fish out of water. Thankfully, the others seemed engrossed in their own conversations, paying little attention to me—except for one.
A woman, who I later learned was Victoria, fixated her gaze on me, making me squirm under her scrutiny. She wasted no time in making her way over to me, settling in beside me with a flirtatious smile.
"Hello, handsome," she purred. "And who might you be?"
"I'm Thomas Barrow, Mr.Dexter's assistant," I replied, trying to keep my tone steady despite the discomfort prickling at my skin.
"Assistant, huh? Well, Dexter certainly lucked out with you," Victoria remarked, her tone dripping with playful mischief. "Care to join me for some fun tonight?"
Before I could respond, Dexter interjected with a stern warning, making it clear that my sobriety was non-negotiable. Victoria's playful banter persisted, but I could sense the underlying tension in Dexter's words.
"I appreciate the offer, Victoria, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass," I said politely, hoping to diffuse the situation.
As we arrived at The Cocoanut Grove, I found myself trailing behind the others, Daniel offering me a reassuring hand as we disembarked from the limo. The thumping tunes of the music filled the air as we made our way inside, and pulsating energy of the club assaulting my senses.
The room was a whirlwind of activity, with people dancing, drinking, and indulging in all manner of debauchery. Victoria and Dexter made a beeline for the bar, leaving me to take in the chaotic scene before me.
"This place is…interesting," I remarked to Daniel, trying to make sense of the sensory overload.
"It's her favorite hangout," he explained, gesturing towards Victoria.
"But not Mr.Dexters?"I questioned, feeling out of place amidst the revelry.
Daniel shook his head, "It's okay, but I don't come here as often," he admitted. "It can be overwhelming at first, but you'll get used to it," he reassured me, offering a small smile of encouragement.
I was just grateful for the brief moment of camaraderie amidst the chaos.
"I'll be right back." Daniel smiled.
As I stood there by myself. Trying to adjust to the pulsating atmosphere of the nightclub, Victoria continued to hover nearby, her presence a constant source of discomfort. Despite my attempts to engage in polite conversation with Daniel and the others, I couldn't shake the feeling of her eyes boring into me.
"So, Thomas," Victoria's voice cut through the din, her tone laced with a hint of amusement. "Are you always this quiet, or are you just shy around new company?"
I forced a tight smile, trying to maintain my composure. "I suppose I'm just more of a listener than a talker," I replied, my voice barely audible over the pounding bass.
"Ah, the mysterious type," she mused, leaning in closer. "I like that."
Before I could respond, Dexter appeared at my side, his presence a welcome relief from Victoria's relentless scrutiny. "Thomas, I need to speak with you for a moment," he said, his tone firm.
I nodded gratefully, eager to escape Victoria's probing gaze. As Dexter led me away from the crowded dance floor, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. Despite the chaos of the nightclub, I knew that Dexter was always there to watch over me, to protect me from whatever dangers lurked in the shadows.
As we found a quiet corner to talk, Dexter's expression softened, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you alright, Thomas?" he asked, his voice gentle.
I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I'm fine," I replied, forcing a smile. "Just not used to this kind of environment, I suppose."
Dexter nodded understandingly, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "It can be overwhelming, especially for someone like you," he said, his tone sympathetic. "But just remember, I'm here if you need anything. You're not alone."
I nodded gratefully, feeling a surge of gratitude towards Dexter for his unwavering support. As we stood there, lost in our own thoughts, I couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with him, a shared understanding born from our mutual experiences.
Despite the challenges of the night, I knew that with Dexter by my side, I could face whatever obstacles lay ahead. And as we returned to the fray of the nightclub, I felt a newfound sense of confidence begin to take root within me, knowing that no matter what, I would always have Dexter watching over me.
Mariah pulled Dexter away from me by his elbow, her possessive grip leaving me feeling unsettled. Before I could gather my thoughts, Daniel reappeared, his easy smile masking his intentions as he approached.
"Care to join me at the bar for a drink?" he asked, his voice smooth and inviting.
I hesitated, the memory of Dexter's instructions echoing in my mind. But Daniel's playful demeanor and the allure of the bar were hard to resist.
"He doesn't own you," Daniel taunted, his words cutting through my uncertainty with a mix of defiance and encouragement.
With a conflicted sigh, I made my decision, knowing that tonight, I would defy expectations and embrace the freedom to make my own choices.
I nodded, watching as everyone dispersed to enjoy the crowded dance floor. Stefan and William were getting cozy with Dexter and Victoria, while Alexander and Robert were lost in their own dance. Julia, Mariah, and Greg were also out on the floor, lost in the pulsating rhythm of the music. It seemed like everyone was dancing, except for me.
"I think I need a drink before I join them out there," I remarked to Daniel, scanning the bustling bar area.
As I followed Daniel to the bar, a sense of liberation washed over me, the promise of adventure and excitement beckoning me forward.
Daniel chuckled, understanding my hesitation. "Two margaritas, please," he requested from the bartender.
"No hard shots?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Daniel shrugged with a grin. "Have to pace myself. You're in for a long night, I hope you know."
"With you and William here, it can't be too bad," I replied, grateful for his company amidst the chaos.
As our glasses arrived, we clinked them together before taking a sip. The club was filled with people, not just Dexter's group, and I felt a surge of gratitude towards Daniel for his support. It was a rare opportunity for us to talk, and I welcomed the chance to make a new friend.
Just as I was starting to feel ready to join the others on the dance floor, I noticed Stefan casting longing glances at Victoria, who was engrossed with me.
Daniel sighed, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "I thought Victoria was keen on me, but it seems she's more interested in you," he confessed, his gaze flickering towards where Victoria stood across the room.
"I'm not interested," I replied firmly, trying to diffuse any tension between us.
"Oh?" Daniel's eyebrows raised in surprise, curiosity evident in his expression.
"But I have an idea of how to make her set her sights on you, Daniel," I continued, a mischievous glint in my eye as I formulated a plan.
Without a second thought, I extended my hand to him.
"My turn to help you. Let's go make Victoria jealous," I suggested with a mischievous grin.
Daniel's face lit up with excitement as he accepted my offer, and together we made our way to the dance floor, throwing ourselves into the chaotic energy of the crowd. Despite our lack of coordination, we laughed and twirled, reveling in the sheer joy of the moment.
As I danced, I couldn't help but steal glances at Dexter, reminding myself of the real reason I was there—to ensure his well-being. It was a sobering thought amidst the revelry, but one that I couldn't afford to forget.
As the night wore on, the pulsating tunes of the music seemed to meld with the laughter and chatter of the crowd, creating an electric atmosphere that enveloped us all. Daniel and I danced with abandon, our movements mirroring the carefree spirit of the evening.
Amidst the swirling chaos of the dance floor, I caught sight of Dexter and Mariah, their figures illuminated by the lights as they moved in perfect sync with the music. Despite the frenetic energy of the nightclub, they seemed completely in tune with each other, lost in their own world.
"Looks like they're having a good time," Daniel remarked, his voice barely audible over the music.
I nodded in agreement, a pang of jealousy flickering in the depths of my chest. Despite my efforts to keep things light-hearted, I couldn't shake the feeling of being on the outside looking in.
Dexter's gaze was fixed on Mariah, his fascination with her evident as she moved against him on the dance floor. It was a sight that made me feel uncomfortable, a reminder of the intimacy he reserved for private moments at home. Despite his attempts to maintain a facade of propriety in public, his actions spoke volumes about his true desires.
Turning away from the scene, I sought solace in the familiar presence of Daniel, hoping to distract myself from the unsettling image burned into my mind. As I glanced in his direction, I noticed the unmistakable glare directed at me—a silent challenge that only fueled my frustration.
"Let's head back to the bar. I'm not really feeling the dancing right now," Daniel murmured, his voice close to my ear. I nodded in agreement, grateful for the opportunity to escape the chaos of the dance floor.
"Yeah, they seem to be able to enjoy themselves," I replied, trying to mask the tinge of envy in my voice.
Daniel flashed me a sympathetic smile before steering us towards the bar for a much-needed break.
As we settled into our seats, I couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with him, a shared understanding born from our mutual experiences.
"So, Thomas, tell me about yourself," Daniel prompted, his gaze warm and inviting.
As Daniel leaned in, his curiosity evident, I found myself opening up about my past, recounting tales of my ten years serving at Downtown Abbey. I spoke of the grandeur of the estate, the intricacies of managing a household steeped in tradition, and the challenges I faced as I rose through the ranks to become a butler.
"It sounds like quite the experience," Daniel remarked, his eyes alight with interest.
"It was," I replied, a hint of nostalgia coloring my tone. "But after a decade, I felt it was time for a change. That's how I ended up here, in Los Angeles, working as Dexter's assistant."
Daniel nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It takes courage to leave behind something familiar and embark on a new journey."
I couldn't help but smile at his words, grateful for his understanding. "It does. But sometimes, change is necessary for growth."
As our conversation continued, I found myself sharing more than I had intended, opening up about my hopes and dreams for the future. And as the night wore on, I realized that amidst the chaos of the nightclub, I had found a kindred spirit in Daniel—a friend who, like me, was navigating the uncertain waters of life with courage and resilience.
We ordered another round of margaritas, only to be interrupted by Dexter, Victoria and Mariah's arrival. Dexter wasted no time in ordering shots, his disregard for my earlier concerns evident in his actions.
"I thought you weren't planning on getting wasted tonight," I remarked, unable to conceal my irritation.
"Well, I changed my mind," Dexter retorted, downing his shot in one swift motion.
I couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at his cavalier attitude. "Why don't you just tell me what you want? It would make things a lot simpler for everyone," I suggested, my patience wearing thin.
As the tension between us simmered beneath the surface, I couldn't help but wonder how long I would have to endure this strained dynamic before Dexter finally accepted that I wasn't going anywhere.
"What do I want?" Guy Dexter's amused tone grated on my nerves as he glanced around the room, as if searching for his next move. His gaze landed on William, and a dangerous smirk twisted his lips. I had a sinking feeling about what was coming next.
"I want you to kiss Victoria," he declared, his tone daring me to defy him.
My heart skipped a beat at the unexpected request. "What?" I stammered, incredulous. Was he serious?
Mr. Dexter's smirk widened, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Oh, don't be so coy. You know it'll be fun. I'm willing to bet you've never kissed a girl before. So go on, step out of your comfort zone. Take a chance."
My indignation flared at his audacity. "What does it matter if I've never kissed a girl? I'm your assistant, not your puppet. I don't roll over and play dead at your command."
A smug expression crossed Mr. Dexter's face. "But you do play fetch," he quipped.
The remark ignited a simmering anger within me. Without thinking, I drew back and delivered a sharp slap across his cheek. The room fell silent, Victoria's eyes widening in shock, and Daniel's breath catching audibly. But I didn't care. I met Dexter's gaze with steely determination, refusing to be treated like a mere pawn in his game.
With a defiant glare, I held Mr. Dexter's gaze, refusing to back down despite the tension crackling in the air. His expression shifted from smug amusement to genuine surprise, his hand instinctively rising to his stinging cheek.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint thud of music pulsating through the walls. Then, Mr. Dexter's lips curled into a smirk, a mixture of amusement and annoyance flickering in his eyes.
"Well, well," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of admiration. "Seems like the assistant has a backbone after all."
I bristled at his condescending tone, but before I could respond, Daniel intervened, placing a hand on my shoulder in a silent gesture of support. His eyes met mine, silently urging me to maintain my composure.
As I saw my shot glass refilled, I seized it, the fiery liquid burning its way down my throat with a harsh intensity. Whiskey. Not my preferred choice, but if Dexter thought he could rattle me with cheap liquor, he had another thing coming.
Dexter's expression twisted with confusion as he mirrored my action, downing another shot. Well, if he was going to play this game, then I was more than ready to play along. No more hiding behind a mask of shyness; it was time to stand my ground.
"If you expect me to kiss a girl, then I expect you to kiss a guy," I shot back, my voice dripping with defiance. I could almost taste the shock in the air at my audacity. But if Mr.Dexter thought he could manipulate me into submission, he had vastly underestimated my resolve.
Guy's hesitation was palpable, but a wicked grin slowly spread across his lips. "Okay," he agreed, his tone deceptively casual. "I'll even let you pick who."
"Fine. I pick William," I declared, knowing full well the implications of my choice. The collective gasp that followed confirmed that my selection had hit its mark.
"Hmm?" William choked out, clearly taken aback by the unexpected turn of events.
"Deal. But no quick peck," Mr. Dexter's stipulated, his tone firm and unwavering.
I wasn't about to back down now, not when victory was within reach.
"Same goes for you," I added, not bothering to wait for a response as I strode purposefully toward Victoria. Without a moment's hesitation, I pressed my lips to hers, the taste of alcohol and lipstick mingling in a strange yet oddly exhilarating sensation. Despite my initial apprehension, Victoria responded eagerly, her lips moving in sync with mine as if in silent agreement.
As the kiss lingered, I couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. It was an unexpected rush, a thrill unlike any I had experienced before. Victoria's soft lips pressed against mine with a surprising gentleness, and for a moment, I forgot where I was or who I was supposed to be.
But as quickly as it had begun, the kiss came to an end, leaving me slightly dazed and disoriented. I pulled away, my heart pounding in my chest, and turned to face Dexter, a defiant glint in my eyes. It was a silent challenge, a declaration of my unwillingness to be manipulated or controlled.
Dexter's expression was inscrutable, his eyes betraying a hint of amusement mixed with something else, something darker and more intense. For a fleeting moment, our gazes locked in a silent battle of wills, each daring the other to make the next move.
Dexter and William sat there, stunned into silence, their expressions a mix of disbelief and astonishment. But I wasn't about to back down now.
"A deal's a deal," I reminded them, my tone firm and unwavering. I knew I had pushed the boundaries, but Dexter had crossed a line, and I wasn't going to let him forget it.
William nodded slowly, closing his eyes as Guy Dexter took the lead. I watched William's lips pressing against Mr. Dexter's, a familiar gesture that stirred unwelcome memories. The scent of whiskey lingered in the air, reminding me of past encounters. My thoughts drifted to moments shared in private, a sensation I desperately tried to push aside, though it proved futile.
As they separated, I couldn't suppress a smug grin, my amusement mingling with a growing sense of unease. I shed my shoes and ascended the bar top, the thumping beat of the music urging me to move. Seizing a bottle of whiskey, I took a swig as I surrendered to the rhythm. Daniel's raised eyebrows went unnoticed amidst the revelry, Victoria's infectious grin encouraging my abandon. With each step, I felt the weight of the night lifting, replaced by a heady sense of liberation.
Soon, Daniel joined me on the bar top, his infectious enthusiasm adding to the frenetic energy. Amidst the cheers and laughter, I found myself lost in the moment, the cares of the world fading into obscurity. But beneath the surface, a nagging voice warned of consequences yet to come.
As the night wore on, I felt myself floating, buoyed by the collective euphoria. Yet, as I teetered on the edge of recklessness, I found solace in Guy Dexter's unexpected intervention. Cradled in his arms, I met Mr. Dexter's puzzled gaze, a silent exchange laden with unspoken truths.
"I think you've had enough," Mr. Dexter's voice broke the spell, drawing me back to reality. With a sheepish grin, I acknowledged the wisdom in his words, albeit reluctantly.
"Is Thomas okay?" Daniel's concern echoed in the background, a reminder of the fragility of the moment.
"Yeah, he's fine," Mr. Dexter assured, his tone softer than I had anticipated. As we retreated from the chaos, I felt a pang of gratitude, tempered by the knowledge that tomorrow would bring a return to familiar dynamics.
"I thought you weren't a party animal," Mr. Dexter's comment cut through the lingering haze, eliciting a playful retort from me.
"And I thought you were an ass," I quipped, unable to resist the jab.
"Don't get used to this, love," Mr. Dexter's words carried a note of warning, though tinged with a hint of warmth. My cheeks flushed at the unexpected endearment, a testament to the complexities of our relationship.
As we settled into the confines of the limo, I couldn't shake the sense of disorientation that lingered. Beside me, Mr. Dexter's presence offered a measure of comfort, a reminder that amidst the chaos, some things remained unchanged.
"I have to admit, you really caught me off guard tonight. You're usually so reserved, but you were quite the opposite this evening. It's a bit perplexing," Mr. Dexter admitted.
I grinned, feeling a surge of defiance. "You think you know me, but you don't. And I see right through your little game. You want to drive me away for fun, but I'm not going anywhere," I retorted, sticking my tongue out playfully. "No matter how hard you try to push me out."
"Good," Mr. Dexter replied, turning to face me. "Because I do enjoy a good challenge."
"Why the sudden honesty? I still don't like you, regardless of your gesture of taking me back to our residence," I remarked.
"I'm telling you this because I doubt you'll even remember our conversation tomorrow," Mr. Dexter smirked. "Then I can resume being the charming jerk you're accustomed to."
"Oh really? Well, I'll make sure to remember. I'll remember that you're not entirely heartless," I slurred, clearly under the influence.
"Sure you will," Mr. Dexter chuckled, rubbing his forehead in mock exhaustion.
"I will. I'll remember that you're not as bad as I thought," I insisted, feeling emboldened by the alcohol. I hoped this newfound understanding would make tolerating Mr. Dexter easier.
As the limo continued its journey in silence, my mind drifted, recalling moments from the night. I remembered the scent of whiskey and cologne, the warmth of a hand on my knee, and the sight of myself dancing on the bar top. And amid it all, I remembered Mr. Dexter's eyes watching me.
"Now, we're heading home," Mr. Dexter announced, breaking the silence.