The Underground Part 17

"Not too bad, though things are a bit crazier than usual today," she said hoping to fend him off quickly. She twirled her hair nervously, thankful he couldn't see. He knew this trait and would have wondered what troubled the woman he worshipped.

"What would you like me to cook tonight? Duck confit? Salmon with hollandaise? Anything you want," he said. Michael's stint in chef school meant he frequently created mouthwatering gourmet meals with the full romance of tall candles and fine wine.

"I hate to do this, but tonight isn't going to work," she said, trying to quickly think of a good excuse. "There's something that just came across my desk, and it must be done by morning," she said, feeling guilty at the lie.

"You still need to eat, my love."

"That's true. But, if I have dinner with you, I'll just be tempted to take the whole evening off and play with you," she said, hoping the flattery would deflect any suspicion. She hesitated, then added, "Tomorrow we can have the whole evening to ourselves."

The desire to spend a romantic evening with Michael was far away, but she knew it was vital. She was, after all, supposed to marry him. She needed to be careful and remain outwardly attentive while she figured things out. In a certain way, she knew there really wasn't much to figure out. She had to marry Michael. That's the way the world worked and just admitting that to herself made her die a little inside. She knew she wouldn't give up Nathaniel, but she hated the dishonesty.

"Okay. If you really can't make it tonight, tomorrow will have to do. I'll miss you." Disappointment saturated his voice.

"Can I come over late? You know, just to stay over?" he added.

"I'll call you if I get done early."

"Okay," he said, sadly.

"I have to run," she said.

"I love you."

"You too," she managed before clicking the call away.

Sometimes Michael could be so clingy, she thought to herself. She couldn't catch her breath for a moment at the thought that maybe there was a way to undo this mess. Maybe there was a way in which she could get out of marrying him, without hurting him. As she wondered, her a.s.sistant came in with an envelope.

It had proofs of their engagement photos. Michael insisted they have them taken, so they'd be ready for their announcement to the world about pending nuptials. It had taken an entire Sunday afternoon of clothing and location changes.

Shayla looked at the top photograph in the healthy stack of glossy 5x7s. Their broad smiles glowed, although hers felt forced. It reminded her of when she was a little girl. She smiled for the press photos, but hated the paparazzi. For some reason, her mother adored it.

The photo captured what appeared to be the perfect couple sitting in the park with the glorious backdrop of a summer day. He wore a smart summer suit, and Shayla wore a sundress that Michael had picked out. She felt the dress was too conservative, but Michael was insistent and she didn't want to hurt his feelings.

She couldn't bear to look at the rest of the photos, and tucked the envelope into her desk drawer, knowing she would not mention the proofs' arrival to Michael.

She only wanted to focus on her evening ahead with Nathaniel. Attaching her mind to that thought was much more enticing. Besides, she had a call to make.

"Kelly Boys, Kansas City. May I help you?"

"I'm calling from Steelco in Washington D.C. and I need a temp, most likely for a few weeks. I've heard you have some special meeting scribe candidates. Can you send me the best resumes you have? In fact, if you have someone who specializes specifically as a meeting scribe and can do weeklong meetings, that is precisely what I'm looking for," Shayla said, before requesting specific credentials that perfectly mapped to Nathaniel's skill set. "I need someone starting Monday, by the way," she added, knowing his schedule freed up that day.

"Not a problem. I'm looking and see there are a number of top candidates we have and I'll email those right over," the man said before hanging up.

Not an hour later, a wave of relief washed over her when Joe's resume was in the small batch sent. She handed the resume to her a.s.sistant to finish the rest of the details.

That night, she left work at 6 p.m., and ran home to put on a tawdry black bra with holes around the nipples and crotch less panties. Just the thought of revealing herself to Nathaniel with that element of surprise made her excited.

She arrived at the hotel with one of her best bottles of Cabernet in her bag. She walked nonchalantly across the lobby and into the elevator, doing her best not to draw attention to herself. She wore blue jeans and no makeup and a Red Sox baseball cap. She never wore a sports team hat. Hopefully, people wouldn't even think it might be the Queen's daughter.

"Shayla?"

Shayla heard the voice just as she was about to reach the elevator. For a split second she thought about not turning around, but that would be worse. She knew that voice...and when she turned around, she saw the Palace's old head chef.

"Josephine? How are you?"

"I'm fine! It's nice to see you. What brings you to the Omni?" Josephine said, giving Shayla a confused look as Shayla adjusted the hat that she hoped would act as a disguise. It wasn't exactly Shayla's style.

"Oh... I just am here because a friend is visiting, so I was coming to say h.e.l.lo," she said, trying to hide her nerves, worrying that Josephine sensed something.

"Well, please come down to the restaurant with your friend. I'm the head chef here, you know. I promise to make something special, like seared tuna. I remember it's your favorite!" she said, making Shayla nervous. She didn't want Josephine to remember anything, especially running into her at the hotel. She could see the gossip news of her eating at the hotel with Nathaniel when Michael read the story.

"I probably can't tonight, but promise to come another time!" she said.

"I'll look forward to it," Josephine said, looking at Shayla in a funny way as Shayla ran to catch the elevator.

"Take care," Shayla yelled just before the elevator doors closed. She sighed in relief as she pressed the third floor b.u.t.ton.

When she knocked on the door of room 304, it opened quickly.

"Do come in," he said with a big smile, as he gestured a welcome with his hand. As soon as the door closed, their immediate embrace made it clear making love would precede dinner. She could feel him, like steel, rubbing against her thigh. She could barely take off her clothes in time.

"Is that what you wore to the office?" he asked, amused, when he saw her bra.

"Yes. This is what I always wear for work. Why?"

He laughed before kissing each nipple that peeked out the holes of her bra.

She insisted on wearing her crotch less panties, and Nathaniel didn't protest as he slid his fingers between the folds that lay just inside the black lace. She watched him enjoying entering her with his fingers, with a quickness that made her come.

He drew her to the bed and took her quickly, with a rough pa.s.sion that thrilled her, although she hadn't remembered Nathaniel being aggressive in this way. She enjoyed the rawness of his desire and his command of her body.

"I'm going to want to do that again, you know," she said to him as soon as they finished.

"I'm sorry I came too soon," he said.

"No, you came just right. I'm just going to want it again. And again. And again.

"Good," he said, smiling. "Me too. We have all night."

"Are you expecting someone?" she said, hearing a knock at the door.

"Don't worry. It's just room service," he said, grabbing a robe.

"I'm going to hide in the bathroom, just in case," she said.

"Good idea," he said, as he waited for her to shut the bathroom door so he could open the door to the hallway.

"You can come out now," he said, as soon as the room service delivery person left.

"Ooh, you've even got candles," she said.

"I bought them today. I wanted tonight to be special," he said, drawing her close and reaching his hands inside her robe to feel the smoothness of her skin. "I wish I could make up for the lost time," he said.

"Let's not think about the past," she said.

"Thank you for giving me another chance," he said before slowly backing away and pulling out her chair around the beautiful table that had two covered trays. He dramatically revealed their contents.

"Beautiful presentation," she said, smiling as she looked at the pasta primavera and the steak and salad plate.

"I didn't know what you wanted," he said, taking a seat across from her after lighting the tall candles and dimming the lights.

"It's all perfect," she said. He smiled at her, wondering if she would still feel that way by the end of the evening.

"I just wanted to talk to you more about what I told you yesterday," he said, skirting around what he really needed to say.

"Which thing was that? That you loved me? Or that you thought I was too s.e.xy to go outside," she said, laughing.

"This is serious, Shayla," he said.

"Of course, what is it?" she said, leaning forward, her silken hair falling around her shoulders, with a just-got-out-of-bed look that he found incredibly s.e.xy. He reached across the table and took her hand, caressing it slowly with his fingers, as he looked into her eyes. Her smile vanished.

"I want to make sure you haven't told your mother about me or the Underground. And that you won't. Not ever," he said.

"Of course I haven't. I know how dangerous that would be. You made that quite clear," she said sounding irritated.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I feel bad asking you to keep my secrets from your mother," he said.

"Nathaniel, it's fine. Right now, my mother has her own troubles. There are protests against mandatory castration. She doesn't talk to me about it, but I can tell it's reaching a stressful point for her," Shayla said, pausing.

Nathaniel saw the sadness in her eyes.

"I thought there were only a few protests?" he said putting his hand on hers across the table. His heart beat quickly. How much should he tell her? He certainly knew a lot more about those protests, including at least one of the partic.i.p.ants.

"I don't know how many there were, but I feel like she's waiting for another one, even if she won't say so. She's such a control freak, and she's had the entire country under her thumb for so long, but it's changing," Shayla said, sounding worried.

Nathaniel sat silently. He had planned on telling her more about the Underground, but changed his mind, wanting to spare her the stress. Even if Shayla might agree with the Underground politics, in theory, it didn't mean she wanted to hear their ultimate goals were to not only banish castration, but overthrow her mother's regime.

"What?" she said to him. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"No, no. I'm just stunned and grateful to be here with you right now," he said, caressing her hand.

"I want to show you something," she said getting up from the table and bringing her pocketbook to the bed. She motioned for Nathaniel to sit next to her and handed him her velvet bag with a copy of Reminder of Truth.

He took it and turned it over in his hands. "I haven't seen this book in a long time," he said, carefully turning the pages. "I've memorized certain pa.s.sages." He didn't mention that the walls of the Underground were lined with quotes from Reminder of Truth.

"Now I have something to tell you that must not be shared with anyone," she said.

"You have my word," he said. "What?" His heart started to pound.

"My father gave me Reminder of Truth on his deathbed," she said, looking at Nathaniel. His eyes grew wide in disbelief. "No, of course, my mother doesn't know...I've had it since I was 10. I didn't know why he gave it to me, exactly, until a few weeks ago. I told Gerald about my engagement to Michael, in confidence. He swore he wouldn't tell my mother and I trust him more than I trust her. He gave me this letter from my father," she said, showing the hand-written letter to Nathaniel.

Chapter 29.

"It's good to see you too, mother," Shayla said. The Queen noticed how relaxed Shayla looked.

"Dare I say, you look quite happy," the Queen said. It had to be because of Michael! Good. She was finally moving on from that Nathaniel person.

"You know, I really am," Shayla said, nodding.

"So, any news?" she said to her daughter.

"About what?" Shayla said, a sour mood blossoming on her face.

"Why do you have to use that tone with me? I don't want to fight with you, Shayla," the Queen said, and she meant it. Shayla plopped herself down on the couch across from her mother before taking a few crackers and cheese off the platter that sat on the coffee table between them.

"I don't want to fight either, mother," Shayla said, before eating a cracker and looking away.

"Good, well, then, tell me how are things going at work?" the Queen asked with interest. She had spoken with Lorraine, quite bluntly, the previous week.

"Actually, it's getting a little better. Lorraine isn't happy with how I run things. I can see that, but I'm making changes. I honestly don't know why she hired me. I feel like she hates me sometimes," Shayla said, looking pensive as she ate a carrot.

"Nonsense," the Queen said. "Lorraine likes you very much!"

"Then she hates my ideas. She gave me a fraction of what I asked for. But I suppose it's a start," Shayla said, looking defeated.

"Lorraine is nothing, if not fair," the Queen said. She saw Shayla roll her eyes, but let it go. She didn't have the energy to argue with her. Still, she wanted to appease Shayla, if at all possible.

"What about you, mother. How is it going for you?" Shayla asked.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine!" she said.

"C'mon, Mother. I watch the Webavision. I've seen the news," she said quietly.

"You can't believe everything you see on the Webavision. Didn't you learn anything from me?" the Queen said snidely.

"What about the protests?" Shayla said.