Home > A Villain's lies

A Villain's lies
Author: T.L. Smith




As I look into the diner from the sidewalk, my new boss, Grayson, doesn’t notice me at first. We’ve only spoken over the phone, and when I see him for the first time, I realize he resembles his brother, my old boss, Jake.

He’s dressed in all gray—his slacks, shirt, even his shoes. His hair is pushed back but slightly mussed, like he’s run his hand through it multiple times. His skin is tanned, olive almost, and I can see the peeking of ink from under his dress shirt.

I’m not a woman who thinks men are beautiful.

I’ve seen the worst in them, been with the worst of them.

So, it’s shocking for me to come to the conclusion this man is beautiful. And I can tell he knows it too. I’ve made it my life to study men; I’ve had to in my career and because of how I grew up. As I look at Grayson sitting down at the table, he has confidence all around him, it lights off of him.

I continue to stare. Mesmerized when his tongue flicks across his lip as he listens to the guy speaking to him, a bored expression fixed on his face.

I place my bag on the ground and wonder if I should go in and introduce myself or wait to see if he comes out here. His eyes dance around the small but quiet diner before they fall back to the man talking to him.

Is he looking for me?

We had an appointment thirty minutes ago, and the flick of his eyes to his watch tells me he isn’t impressed I’m late.

I’m always late.

So he better get used to that fact.

Grayson nods at something the guy says, and then his eyes flick away and find me standing outside with a large smile. His stare zooms in as his brows pinch tighter together, and his lip quirks up in a smirk. He lifts his wrist and taps his watch.


I reach down and pick up my designer bag bursting full of my things and strut into the diner.

The smell of burgers and fries assaults me.

Oh Lord, now I want fries.

It’s two o’clock in the morning, and we’d agreed to meet at one-thirty after my plane landed. I took a slight detour before the driver dropped me off here, which is why I’m late.

It doesn’t surprise me Jake didn’t warn Grayson I wouldn’t be on time. Jake doesn’t like many people, so forwarding information which could be useful isn’t something he would bother with.

I approach his table, and the man who was talking to him falls silent.

“I’ll have an order of fries, extra cheese, please,” I tell the man. He raises a brow, and then he looks at my new boss.

“You heard her,” Grayson says from across the table.

“I don’t work here,” the man responds gruffly, his gaze bouncing between my new boss and me.

“So go order them,” Grayson adds with no room for argument.

The man nods and heads to the counter. After sliding my bag across the table until it isn’t blocking my view of Grayson, I place my hands in front of me on the table.

“Did you get me what I asked for?”

Grayson ignores me, and instead, reaches for his pack of cigarettes placed next to the green vase holding the freshly cut peach roses the same color as the faux leather seats. “Don’t smoke around me.”

His hand pauses, and he taps his fingers lightly on the lacquered wood. “So, like I said… What I asked for?” I hold my hand out in front of me, waiting for him to place what is due to me in my palm.

“You are demanding,” he states, his expression incredulous, but he pulls up a large green bag with a designer logo on it I recognize instantly which must have been sitting next to him with his free hand. I smile as I reach for it, only he doesn’t let it go, and now I’m the one with the incredulous expression. “This is the first of many. You will look after all my girls and get me more.”

“That depends on what type of boss you are. Jake has women working in his sex club because he treats them well. What type of owner are you?” I ask, pulling the bag from his grasp and quickly tearing it open. When I see the designer logo on the pink handbag, I smile big and bring my gaze back to his. “One every month,” I remind him.

“Yes, as part of your outrageous deal.” Grayson shakes his head, huffing a humorless laugh.

“Please… I know the amount of money pouring into these businesses. A little designer bag means nothing to you.” I place it on the chair next to me with a shrug.

A server exits the kitchen, carrying my fries covered in cheese sauce. Just how I like them. His bright red cheeks and tight blond curls frame his flushed face.

“Our contract is for one year,” Grayson states, ignoring the server.

I pick out the sauciest fry with my fingers, glancing back up at him and nod as I take my first bite.

“After that, I’m off to Europe. Somewhere where it’s safe and nice,” I tell him after I’ve swallowed the deliciousness and licked my fingers clean.

“You plan to take all your bags with you?” he asks, and I can tell by the tone of his voice he’s being a smartass. But I simply smile.

“Of course. And what I don’t take, I’ll rent a storage unit for.” I reach for his apple juice, next to his cigarettes and take a sip before sliding it back toward him.

Grayson flicks his gaze at it, then back to me. “You can have it,” he says. I shrug and take it back.

“So, you fuck strangers?” he asks.

When I don’t answer right away, savoring another delicious bite of my food, he presses, “And enjoy it?”

“I bet you fuck strangers. At least one of us is getting paid to do it.” I wink at him. “But no, I play with strangers. At the beginning, I used to fuck. Now I play.” I correct his assumption. “So don’t expect me to fuck unless I want to.”

“Have you heard of my establishment?” Grayson asks.

“Yes,” I tell him, then add, “vaguely.”

“It’s different from Jake’s. Jake’s is about all about how he runs it and color coding. That’s not how I work, though the color thing has stuck so don’t get that confused, our colors indicate something different,” he starts, and I pause. “We have rooms for fantasies. For instance, for those who enjoy indulging in a school fantasy, we have a classroom fit with a long ruler for spanking.” He smirks. “The women who work for me wear colored hair ribbons, and each ribbon tells you which area we assign her to. Blue is the water room decked out with a spa and tools for water play. Black is our dungeon room, and red is our blood room.”

“Blood room?” I ask, surprised. “No fucking man is cutting me,” I state, barely suppressing a grimace.

“It’s for him to be cut, not you. We have a nurse who teaches a safe technique and is on hand when that room is hired.”

“So, they’re paying for a nurse too?”

“Of course they are. We’re all about safety. And we want to remain that way.”

“Who usually rents that room? Do you have regulars?” I ask.

“We do, and they pay a lot more than you can imagine.” Grayson pauses, seeming to assess my reaction to his news. I try to remain impassive this time. I take another sip of his drink and wait for him to continue. “The room is booked in advance. Our nurse works once a week, and we have to have special cleaners for the room to ensure hygiene standards are maintained.”

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