The Privilege Pt. 01

"We're going to Petrosus."

Petrosus was a rooftop club on a 145-storey high skyscraper. As 57-year old VP-of-In-house-Research-and-Development Damian Baker, the place had always been out of reach for me, but for a 31-year old heir-to-a-billionaire Jacob Steinbeck, the place was my haunting ground. Jacob had even made the news on one occasion, spread out over the edge of Petrosus's infinity pool that looked out over the entire city. He had a bottle of champagne in one hand and the other was curled around the very shapely ass of one of the waitresses. Both of them were fully clothed -- Jacob in a three-piece-suit, the girl in the club's uniform cheongsam -- and half underwater. Jacob was caught in a pose with one arm held up, champagne bottle raised to the sky. He had just graduated university.

The person who took the photo was a friend, who at the time may or may not have known that there was a Ziploc bag of very illegal uppers in the inside pocket of Jacob's suit. But then the next day the waitress had disappeared, and four days later three investigators had shown up to the Steinbeck mansion to ask some very uncomfortable questions. Twelve hours after that, the photo in question was emblazoned across the front page of three local and one national newspaper with highly suggestive titles. Jacob of course, wasn't around to answer any queries -- he had been sent off to a private, and very expensive, Swiss wellness centre to sober up.

The waitress reappeared a week later, with a couple of stitches on her temple. When asked about that evening, her lips remained tightly shut. The then 22-year-old Jacob Steinbeck had returned from his trip a month after the night the photo was taken, and quietly joined his father's company. He had played it pretty much straight since then, although he still frequented Petrosus and other clubs around town. Ten years later, he was a reformed man.

And with his body, so was I.

"Miss Jin asked me to bring you straight to the office-", Carver began.

"-Tell her to meet me at the club." I glanced sideways at the head of security. "She's not worried about being able to get in, is she?"

Carver's jaw hardened and he took his phone out to relay the information. I leaned back against the plush seat, draping my arm lazily across the back.

"And I want bottle service as soon as we step through the front door."

Half an hour later, I leant forward with my hands on the chrome railing, looking out at the evening cityscape more than a hundred floors below me. Light techno piped in from somewhere, the bass strumming through my chest like my heartbeat. On the wooden deck behind were laid out two rows of private booths, some with curtains draped across for privacy. Beyond that was the infinity pool, looking out Eastward over the city, towards the shore. Nestled between the booths and the pool was a bar, at which sat a couple of shirtless old men when we had come in through the elevator doors. No doubt it would get busier as the evening stretched into the night.

I heard footsteps approach from behind me and to the left. Momentarily, I heard a sigh a couple of feet away. I turned and saw one of the patrons -- a dusky brunette -- similarly taking in the vista as I was. She turned to me and smiled. It was obvious she had just come out of the pool, with her towel wrapped around her waist and wet hair clinging to the back of her neck. She looked middle-eastern, or perhaps north-east-African. She turned and walked away with a gait that made me think she was either a model, or had done some modelling at some point in her life. I realised I had been staring, and hadn't reciprocated her smile. I felt tight. I needed to loosen up.

I took one last look at the setting sun before turning around and walking over to the booth reserved for us. Carver smoothly slipped in step beside me, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. If he hadn't been so deft, I would've jumped out of my skin. I had to get used to his presence. That man was Jacob's shadow.

"Miss Jin is on her way now. She'll be here in half an hour."

"Plenty of time to get the party started." I replied.

Carver held the curtains aside for me and I stepped into the booth. Purple-orange sunlight filtered through the chiffon sunshade above, throwing a strange glow on the wooden interior. I settled easily on one corner of the cushioned sectional. Carver pulled the champagne bottle out of the ice and began uncorking it, but I interrupted him.

"What are you doing?"

He stared at me. I snapped.

"For fuck's sake Carver, leave the entertaining to the professionals."

I pressed the intercom button on the table.

"This is Jacob. Send me two of your finest waitstaff. Double-quick."

"Someone will be with you shortly Mister Steinbeck." A tinny voice rang out from the speaker in reply.

Within the next minute, two waitresses entered the booth. One was a pale, leggy blonde, the other was a caramel-skinned, curly-haired brunette. They introduced themselves respectively as Ella and Eva. Both of them wore the silver cheongsam that was the standard Petrosus waitress uniform, but the hem had been raised a couple of inches since the days of Jacob's infamous photo, and the silky dress had gone backless, with the mandarin collar now a halter neck. There was also an appreciable thigh slit on the sides, which allowed the hem to easily slip a further inch up the girls' legs as they each seated themselves on either side of me. Ella, with wraith-like unobtrusiveness, set to work popping the champagne and pouring the three of us frothing glasses, while Eva engaged me in conversation.

"You can leave us alone, Carver." I dismissed the head of security. He nodded and stepped out.

The girls were great company. Fun, just the right amount of flirty and liberal with the alcohol. I felt the champagne soothing the knots in my mind, just as Eva's deft fingers soothed the knots in my shoulders. I could finally afford to heave a sigh of relief. Madrid had been a success. Damian Baker was no more. And gone with him, the mind of Jacob Steinbeck. I was now the heir to the Steinbeck fortune, and every perk, advantage and leverage that came with it. I had dreamt of this very moment for the past three years, ever since Elijah had shown me what was possible with the BCI. All the hurdles, all the secrets, had paid off in full. As Jacob, I knew I could run the Steinbeck conglomerate from anywhere in the world with a laptop and internet connection. I already knew all the places I wanted to be, the people I wanted to meet, the things I wanted to do...

I felt an ancient, but very familiar stirring in my loins. I was laid up on the cushions with my back against Eva's generous chest, and my feet propped up in Ella's lap as she massaged my calves. Perhaps it was the champagne, but I felt Eva's hands had started to drift from my back, and down my sides, into my lap. I shifted a little and her fingers went back to where they were, but in another minute they were surreptitiously caressing the front of my thighs through my dress trousers. Somewhere along the way they had managed to divest me of my suit jacket, my tie and my cufflinks. The top three buttons of my shirt were unfastened, and Jacob's -- my -- muscular pecs enjoyed the cool evening breeze as it drifted in from the slightly parted curtains.

I reached down and took Eva's wandering hands in mine. I brought them up to my lips and kissed her palms.

"Bad, bad girl."

I murmured, and Eva giggled. Ella flashed us a smile.

"Is this the kind of treatment you give all your patrons?" I asked

"Only the very special ones." Eva whispered in my ear. Her lips grazed my earlobe. I relaxed an let Ella resume her ministrations.

"So what else can I expect from Petrosus's fine hospitality?"

"I don't know about Petrosus..." Ella began, "But I know what you can expect out of Eva and mine's." She exchanged a look with Eva before fixing her gaze on me.

"Are we talking school hours or extra-curricular?"

Ella smiled and slid off the cushion, onto her knees on the wooden floor. She snaked her way between my legs, her hands parting my thighs until her belly pressed up against my crotch. The pressure in my pants was getting uncomfortable now. Ella brought her face about an inch away from mine. The mix of hers and Eva's perfumes was heady, intoxicating.

"I'm talking... detention."

I grinned. I'm sure Petrosus kept tabs on its top waitstaff along with all their after-hours activities with clients, but I figured they didn't care as long as the girls kept the high rollers coming back in. I gazed at Ella's face, her slightly parted mouth, her full lips painted cherry red... I leaned in and kissed her. Ella moaned and reciprocated, with a bit more vigour than I was used to.

I don't know why I had held back initially. Force of habit I suppose. The excitement fading with the years. A conjugal bed getting colder as time passed. Deep, passionate kisses shared only behind closed doors became frigid, infrequent, formal, something to put on for others as a display of our marital bond. A fire had gone out in Damian Baker's life, but for Jacob Steinbeck, it still blazed bright.

I set my glass down and grabbed the back of Ella's head as I pulled her into me. Lips parted, my tongue found hers and we groaned in unison. Eva leaned in behind and sucked my earlobe. My hands slid down Ella's back and under the skirt of her dress to grab her pert ass. I imagined my fingers leaving marks on her pale skin and the thought drove me wild. My tongue clashed with hers, and she began unbuttoning my shirt all the way down.

Meanwhile Eva had already zeroed in on my crotch, and her hands rubbed my erect shaft through the trousers. I pulled away from the kiss and trailed my lips down Ella's jaw and the side of her neck. She moaned and shivered. I squeezed her ass cheeks and delivered a sharp smack to one fleshy mound, making her yelp. A moment later, Eva's hand found the zipper of my trousers and pulled it down.

"Oh my god..."

It wasn't either of the girl's voices that I had just heard. My head whipped around to find a new entrant in the booth, but she wasn't one of the waitstaff. She was Asian, dressed in a simple grey business suit, with a navy blouse and moderate heels. Jacob's memories told me that she was my secretary. Carver peeked in from behind her shoulder.

"Miss Jin has arrived, Mister Steinbeck."

Having caught her boss in a compromised position, Miss Jin tried to brush it off and immediately averted her eyes.

"I... I can come back later."

"No, no, it's fine. We were done here." I grinned and looked at Ella, who looked flustered. I leaned back and whispered in Eva's ear.

"I'll send you the hotel room number."

Then, to Ella I whispered,

"Don't work too late."

My finger traced the gorgeous woman's jawline and she kissed my cheek. Ella followed up with a kiss to the cheek of her own. The two of them got up, straightened their cheongsams and left the booth. I poured myself another flute of champagne.

"Some for you, Miss Jin?"

"No thanks Mister Steinbeck, I'm still working."

"Not anymore. You're dismissed for the day."

I poured her a glass and held it out to her.

"And I'm inviting you for a social outing, here and now."

"I really don't think that's appropriate."

"Have you got a partner?"

She flushed red.

"You know I don't."

"A kid? A dog? Someone who's expecting you home tonight?"

"No."

"Then stay."

"I really shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Well..." she averted her gaze again. "It looked like you were in the middle of something." She murmured.

"I was. I'm not anymore. So-" I held the glass of champagne out to her again, closer to her hands this time.

"-keep me company."

Miss Jin took the drink from me, a bit hesitatingly.

"Sit, please."

She settled on the cushions, her unease betrayed by the fact that her hips were so close to the edge. She took a small sip of the champagne as I buttoned my shirt back up, not all the way but enough. I pushed the intercom button and ordered some shrimp to be brought to the booth.

"And for my companion..." I turned and looked at Miss Jin, eyebrow cocked.

"Nothing for me, thanks."

"...she will have some caviar with toast. And send us some vodka as well."

I put my feet up on the cushions and leaned back on the sectional. I fixed my gaze on my companion's eyes, which she quickly backed out of.

"So Miss Jin, what was so important that you requested I come see you immediately."

She almost choked on her drink.

"I... I... didn't mean it that way Mister Steinbeck. I just assumed you would make your way to the office after you landed, and I wanted to brief you on everything that happened while you were gone."

"You can brief me all you want, Miss Jin. But only after you tell me what's been going on with you."

"With... me, Mister Steinbeck."

"Yeah. Tell me the headlines. What new hobby have you found. What have the neighbours been up to. Who's getting married in your friend circle. Who," I leaned in close to her "have you been seeing lately?"

She flushed again. I could see that she was a bit too stunned for words.

"I never ask you these questions, do I? Tell me Miss Jin, would you say that we have a detached relationship?"

She stared at me, still a hint of suspicion in her eyes.

"You're not someone I'd invite to my birthday party, no." She replied.

So the woman has a sense of humour

"Why not?"

"Because you're my boss. I... wouldn't feel comfortable asking you."

"Because you think I'd refuse?"

"Because I think you wouldn't even read the invite."

"Have you ever sent me one?"

"What?"

"Have you ever" I slowed my words "Sent. Me. An. Invite?"

"N... No."

Her phone screen just then lit up with the notification of a message. It was from her mum. It read

Love you my darling Rebecca. Call when you're back home.

And now I had her name. I set my glass down on the table.

"Rebecca."

She looked surprised when I said her name out loud. Again, clearly, Jacob never had publicly called her by her first name.

"I want things to change between us. This trip to Madrid, it made me realise... that I am nothing without my circle. My team. My confidantes. No one to turn to for help when I'm backed up in a dark alley. I could get kidnapped off the streets and no one would know."

I took her glass from her and set it down next to mine.

"Look at me." I commanded her. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine. I leaned in close to her, our foreheads no more than a couple of inches away. I could smell her perfume, understated, slightly musky and a little flowery. The kind one would wear to the office everyday, something inoffensive. I dropped my voice just enough that it added a bit of weight to my next words.

"I value you. You're important to me. Rebecca I...," I looked away for a moment for dramatic effect, then turned back to her with the most earnest expression I could muster up on my newly acquired face.

"I need you." I raised my eyebrows. "Do you understand?"

She nodded, slowly. There was still a hint of suspicion on her face, however. I wondered if she was going through a mental list of substances I could be on right now, causing me to drop the professional façade and behave this way. I continued.

"So think of this as a reintroduction. I want to know everything about you. Be free and open with me, without fear of consequence. And feel free to ask me questions you always wanted to ask."

I made a show of reading the time off my wristwatch.

"And remember, we're both off the clock, so anything goes."

She nodded again. I handed her glass back and watched her intently as she took a large sip from it.

"So tell me," she spoke up. "Did you really play croquet on a national level?"

I threw my head back and laughed, not because I was thrown off by her question, but I figured it was something Jacob Steinbeck would've been involved with in his college years. Football would've been too intense, and I'm sure his mother didn't want her son's pretty face all bashed up on Day Two.

"I did!" I replied. "And let me tell you a weird thing that happened at one of the master's games..."

The next hour passed easily enough. Conversation flowed in step with the alcohol. I learned that Rebecca had had a fledgling career as a manager for a garage band called the Taco Belles, that she loved building Lego sets to this day, and she had a thing for buying and collecting fragrant glue sticks. In return, I told her about Jacob's stint as a professional croquet player, his obsession with red phone charging cables, and his professional sabbatical at the age of twenty-four when he went away to Ulaanbaatar to spend a year at a monastery. This last thing was something I completely made up.

After a point it got easier to fabricate lies, or perhaps, to make Rebecca believe all the bullshit I threw her way. She was smiling within the first five minutes, and laughing her head off five minutes after that. In my previous life of fifty-seven years, I had gotten great at making conversations with women, even if I wasn't the best closer. Towards the end they had come to see me as a rowdy uncle they could indulge humorously. But as Jacob I didn't have to hold back the aggression. I didn't even have to dial it up, for that matter. By the time we scraped the last of our dinner off our plates, Rebecca was sidled up to me. She had taken her jacket off a while ago, and rolled up her sleeves the way I had. Our forearms touched every now and then, and it was a couple of times by now that I had rested my hand on her knee and she hadn't brushed it off.

Rebecca was definitely a looker. Once her glasses and hair tie had come off, she had transformed from looking like a stern librarian to a girl-next-door. She had a great smile, luxurious hair and flawless skin, likely a result of her Asian genetics. Although the thing that defied those genetics was her ass, which didn't stay hidden from me for long, even under her modest formal skirt. I first laid my eyes on it before the dinner arrived, when she got up and left the booth for a few minutes to answer a call. Her legs were shapely as well, although I couldn't tell if it was from working out at the gym religiously, or just having won the genetic lottery.

"What are you staring at?"

Her voice drifted into the cloud of my thoughts. My eyes refocused on her face. Her expression was playful. Her lips were parted and her face was lightly flushed from the champagne.

"I'm staring at you?"

"What? Why?" She looked concerned for a second.

"I have never seen you without your glasses."

"Of course you have."

"Or with your hair loose."

"I had my hair loose at the last VP dinner. But of course..."

"Of course what?"

"No it's nothing. Forget it."

"Tell me."

"I don't think it's appropriate."

"As your boss-" I began

"-Oh? I thought we were off the clock." She cut me off.

"As the person who now knows your deepest darkest secrets..."

Her smile returned

"... I need you to tell me."

"I really shouldn't."

I took her hands in mine.

"Try me."

"Uhh... well..." she began, "At the last VP ball, you brought a date. She was... stunning. You two looked great together. I don't think you had eyes for anyone else that night."

"Maybe, but she isn't here right now. In fact, right now, sitting here with you, seeing you like this..." I dropped my voice to just above a whisper.

"Rebecca, I don't even remember her name."

Five

Four

Three

Two

I didn't even have to finish the count. Rebecca leaned in and brushed her lips against mine. With all the fire that had been building up in my loins ever since I saw Rebecca divested of her professional shell -- and knowing I was going to fuck her -- I reciprocated. My hands left hers and travelled up her arm, past her elbows, to grab her shoulders and pull her in close. She moaned in my mouth. I felt her body slowly giving way, so I pushed her back onto the cushions and knelt on top of her, our lips never breaking contact. My right hand slid down from her shoulder to cup one of her pert tits. I sighed in her mouth, and she groaned against my lips. I unbuttoned her blouse, and she gasped when I roughly pulled her bra over her tits, freeing them, not bothering with the clasp. I cupped and kneaded the first pair of tits I had held in my hands since my divorce. I couldn't even remember the last time I had seen my ex-wife's bare breasts when we were still married.