High

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Authors: Zara Cox

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica

BOOK: High
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HIGH

 

THE INDIGO LOUNGE SERIES #1

 

BY

 

ZARA COX

 

Chapter One

 

The first thing Bethany Green saw when
she opened her mailbox on Friday evening was the indigo-colored envelope.
Against the rest of the junkmail and bills, it stood out like an exotic jewel
in the dust.

Even as she cautioned herself against
excitement, her heart skipped several beats. Fingers trembling, she reached for
the rectangular envelope and felt it, real and heavy in her hand.


Omigod,
it came. It actually came
.” Realizing she was talking to herself, albeit in
an empty foyer of her apartment building, she quickly stuffed the mail in her
oversized handbag and hurried to the elevator.

She’d barely stabbed the button for the
fourth floor when she pulled the envelope out again. The words written on the
front in raised gold embossed lettering were simple—
Your Invitation
. She turned it over. No return address. No surprise
there.
Because, seriously, only a crazy person would turn
down
this
invitation.

Ten minutes later, Bethany, despite
being fortified with half a glass of Rioja, still hadn't gathered the courage
to open it. The harsh buzz of her cellphone made her jump. Unable to tear her
gaze from the envelope that now rested on her coffee table, she fumbled on the
sofa for a few seconds before her fingers closed over her phone.

“We still on for tapas in an hour,
right?” Keely Benson, her best friend, snapped in her no-nonsense Brooklyn
twang.

Keely was pure New Yorker, not an
up-stater like Bethany. Many times during their long friendship, Bethany had thanked
God for having Keely in her life. She’d been there for her when Bethany had
been hit with the worst news of her life.

“Umm…yeah…I guess,” Bethany replied,
her attention still absorbed by the envelope.

“You…
guess
? How many times over the last week have I told you how
important tonight is to me? Fuck, Bethany, if you chicken out on me, I’ll never
forgive you. You know Clark will never go all the way if I come on too strong.
I need you to pull me back. Once I get him back to my place, I’ll be fine, but
I can’t have him wimping out on me at dinner, and for that to happen, I need
you there!”

“Jesus, Keel, I’ve never understood
your insane addiction to nerds.”

Her friend gave a rich laugh that
started off as a schoolgirl giggle and ended in a dominatrix’s growl. Bethany
had seen grown men drool like little boys when Keely laughed.

“You don’t need to understand, baby girl.
All you need to do is to turn up and help a friend out.”

“I…okay, sure, I’ll be there.”

Keely huffed with impatience. “Ok, tell
me what’s going on. You haven’t had another run-in with She-male, have you?”

Bethany smirked at the nickname they’d
coined for her balls-shriveling boss. “No, she’s out of town till Tuesday.”

“Then what the hell’s the problem?”

“It came,”
Bethany
blurted out, incapable of keeping the news to herself any longer.

“It? What it?” Keely demanded.

“An invitation. To The Indigo Lounge.”

Silence. For as long as Bethany had
known her, Keely had never been at a loss for words. For her to be silent now
made Beth’s heart hammer. Her friend knew, just as she did, the gravity of the
moment.

“You’re. Shitting. Me!” she finally whispered.

“I am not.” A sound bubbled up from
Bethany’s throat—half incredulous, half terrified. Because she still
couldn’t believe what her eyes were telling her.

“Have you opened it? What did it say?
When do you leave? How long for? Are you allowed to bring a guest? Fuck it,
girl, spill!”

“I…haven’t opened it yet. And,
seriously, Keely, I don’t think I want to.”

“You don’t think you want to open it or
you don’t think you want to accept the invitation?”

“Umm…both? I mean there’s no way I can
get away on such short notice…besides, I have too much work to do at the
moment…June is our busiest month because it’s right before everyone disappears
for the summer…it’s just not practical—”

“Bethany!” Keely’s steely voice cut
across hers.

“Yes?”

“How much wine do you have at your place?”

Bethany finally managed to blink and
focus on something other than the indigo envelope. Glancing over at the alcove set
into the short hallway leading to her kitchen, she counted. “Three reds, one
white, one rosé. Why?”

“I’ll be over in twenty minutes. I’ll
bring take out.”

“What about Clark?”

Keely sighed. “As much as it kills me
to deny myself some super-hot nerd cock, Clark can wait. This is way too
important to let you do what I know you’re thinking about doing.”

“But—”

“Twenty minutes.” She hung up.

Bethany forced herself to breathe.
Willed her hands to stop shaking. Taking another sip of wine, she picked up the
invitation.

The Indigo Lounge—owned by
thirty-one-year-old billionaire Zachary Savage, the fifth-richest man in
America.

Bethany remembered the piece she’d read
about Savage in
Time
Magazine
last year. It had expounded on
his Midas-touch business savvy and hinted at his rags-to-riches background, but
even as she’d read it she’d known the report
was largely rehashed from other articles;
the
very private Zach Savage had revealed almost nothing about his past to his
interviewer.

Even the picture used in the piece had
been an old one. But it didn’t detract from the fact that at twenty-five,
Zachary Savage had been magnetic and gorgeous, with eyes that captured and held
a woman’s attention and made her want to get to know the man behind the
enigmatic, sexy smile.

Nowadays, all anyone knew about Zachary
Savage was that he lived somewhere on the West Coast, probably San Francisco,
owned several homes around the world, and had fingers in several
entrepreneurial pies, the most renowned being The Indigo Lounge.

Operating from ten super-jumbo private
jets, the lounges offered prime, private adult entertainment. The rumors were
that they were flying sex palaces, but the specifics were an extremely
well-kept
secret that only the cream of A-listers were
familiar with.

The overtures the events organizing
company she worked for had made for his business last year had met with a flat
refusal. Bethany had been part of the team that made the bid and had been
tasked beforehand with finding out everything she could about Zachary Savage.

Coming up near-empty had more than
pissed off her bosses and made her position at Neon Events, Inc. precarious. She’d
had to work her ass off after that debacle to redeem herself in eyes of her
immediate supervisor, Sheena Malcolm.

The sound of her buzzer interrupted her
thoughts. Springing to her feet, she buzzed Keely in and waited by her front
door.

Her blonde, green-eyed friend exited
the elevator with her usual brisk, sexy stride, carrying a takeout bag from
their favorite Chinese place in one hand and two Louis Vuitton weekenders in
another.

Bethany frowned as Keely walked past
her into the apartment. “What are the bags for?”

Keely dumped the luggage on the floor
next to the nearest sofa and headed for the kitchen. “One is empty and is for
you to use once I convince you you’re going on this trip. The other is for if I’ve
lost all my powers of persuasion I don’t succeed. In which case, you and I are
taking off for the Hamptons for the weekend. The weather forecast says mid to
high nineties. If I won’t be sweating it out on my sheets with Clark, I might
as well go sweat on a beach and top up my tan while we discuss the serious
issue of how you live your life.” She grabbed two plates and came back into the
living room where she’d left the food on the small dining table tucked into a
corner and started dishing out Kung Pao chicken and noodles.

Bethany stemmed the fierce reaction to
the word
beach
and tried to hide her fear-induced
shudder. Keely saw it anyway.

Sympathy softened her gaze. “Crap.
Scratch the beach idea. In fact scratch the whole contingency plan. You won’t
be needing it.”

“Actually, about the invitation.”

Keely grimaced and pointed her
chopsticks at her. “You’ve talked yourself out of going, haven’t you?”

“I don’t think I can take the time off
work, Keel.”

“Sure you can. Your Aunt Melanie has
suffered her second heart attack in two months. All those donuts and greasy
short ribs the doctors warned her about are finally taking their toll. They
don’t know if poor Aunt Mel will make it this time.”

“Jesus, Keely, Aunt Mel is as healthy
if not healthier than the horses she rides several times a day. I spoke to her
on her birthday last week and she’s as fit as a fiddle.”

“Iron Balls Sheena doesn’t know that.
She’s approved you taking all of the vacation time you’ve accrued in the last
two years to visit your aunt’s death bed in Montana.
And…” Keely fished her cell phone out of a
pocket and waved it at Bethany, “s
he just texted me back to say she’s
also happy for me to keep her updated so you don’t need to check in every
fucking day.”

Bethany couldn’t stop her mouth gaping.
“You packed a bag, ordered food for us and texted my boss asking for time off
all in what…twenty minutes? All just so I’ll go on this trip?”

“Yup.”

“And Sheena believed the excuse you
made up?”

“Why wouldn’t she? She still thinks I
quit Neon last year because she drove me to a nervous breakdown and not because
Rubio Events poached me. Bet she’s scared spitless I might sue her ass.” Keely
grinned and handed over a steaming plate. “I love it when you get that look on
your face.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you don’t know whether
to kiss me for coming through for you or bitch-slap me for grinding your
excuses into dust.”

“Yeah, because I’ve learned to my grief
that when you’re this determined, one of us ends up doing something she’ll
regret. And most of the time, it’s me.”

Keely waved her away and went over to
the sofa Bethany had vacated minutes earlier. She stared down at the envelope
with the same awe Bethany had felt since opening her mailbox almost an hour
ago. “Wow. I mean…fucking wow.”

Bethany released a shaky breath and
felt a little better that she hadn’t blown the momentousness of the situation
out of proportion. “I know, right?”

Keely nodded. “We still need to open
it, babe. We’re not going to get the juicy details by staring at it all night.”
With a deep breath, she snatched it off the table and ripped it open.

Bethany held her breath until it the
need for oxygen made her inhale greedily. “What does it say?”

“You’re leaving on Sunday from Newark.
First stop is Shanghai…you’ll have your own personal guide, chef and a
bodyguard throughout the experience…holy crap!”

“Bodyguard? Why would I need—

Keely held up a hand. “Second stop is
Bora Bora. Jesus, Bethany, I’d kill to go to Bora Bora! Third stop, the
Aleutian Islands—where the fuck are they?”

When Bethany shrugged, she continued.
“Fourth stop London, fifth stop is Monte Carlo.” She stared into space and
sighed. “This is fucking unbelievable, Bethany. Did you think you’d hit the
jackpot like this when you researched The Indigo Lounge and found out they take
a wild-card guest once a year free of charge?”

“Nope. We both thought it was a joke at
the time, remember? I mean, what would a multi-billion dollar organization have
to gain from offering a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this?”

“Maybe Zachary Savage doesn’t want the
world to think he’s just a super-rich dick?”

“Why should a guy who doesn’t give
personal interviews and is practically a recluse care what the world thinks of
him?” Bethany asked.

“Jeez, I don’t know. But let’s not
stare this gift heifer in the mouth.” She pointed the edge of the envelope at
Bethany. “This invitation has fallen into your lap and you. Are. Going.”

Bethany pressed her lips together to
stop the torrent of objections rising inside her. On the one hand, she was thrilled—beyond
thrilled. On the other, her self-confidence had taken a severe blow six months earlier
when her long-term boyfriend had left her…for another man. Her shock at Chris’s
double betrayal still hadn’t worn off. More and more lately, she was beginning
to wonder if it would ever wear off.

“What else does it say?” she asked to
distract both herself and Keely from the reasons why taking this step felt so
very daunting.

Keely glanced down at the envelope.
“The usual disclaimers—total, unwavering confidentiality or you lose both
kidneys, no drugs on board the jets…no drugs on board the jets…no drugs on
board the jets or you’ll be prosecuted…jeez, they really hammer the ‘no drugs’ things
home.”

“Maybe someone had a bad experience
with drugs on board?”

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