La Brat (12 page)

The Arab contingent had voiced concerns about security, so Aaron too would have his work cut out to convince Farah’s family that their little princess would be protected at all times. There had been terror threats, and unrest in the Arab world was always an issue, though the UAE was stable enough.

Elise’s expression was deadly serious as she directed her attention first at Eugenie then at Aaron. “I need you two to get your heads together and work out how to dazzle them. The hotel wants this wedding. If we can pull this off, it will be the highest profile event on the social calendar for months to come. We’ll be inundated with inquiries from every bride who wants to be a princess for a day. Aaron, do you perceive any issues we should be considering?”

Eugenie glanced at Aaron sitting across the table from her. He looked incredibly handsome in his sharp business suit and crisp white shirt. His red tie looked perfect for restraining a submissive, and despite her best intentions, Eugenie couldn’t help wondering if he had another sub now. She supposed he must have.

He sat forward, his elbows on the table as he replied to Elise’s query. “There are issues, but none that are insurmountable. We would have to instigate additional checks on all guests, staff and suppliers whilst the wedding party is here, and I’d recommend we limit all other bookings for that period too. I’ll schedule sweeps and searches of the premises at random intervals, and staff should expect to be searched as they come and go. Ideally, guests too, but that could prove tricky, which is why I suggest we limit the numbers. Only staff who need to be there will have access to any of the wedding party’s suites. Our standard passkeys and ID checks should be thorough enough, but I’ll review those and let you know if I find any aspects that need tightening.”

“Excellent. I’d like you and Eugenie to lead on this. Pull out all the stops to secure the business then make sure it goes without a hitch.”

Aaron nodded. Eugenie gaped.

The wedding of the decade. Here. And Elise was looking to her to organize it. Talk about hitting the ground running.

“Problem, Eugenie?” Elise looked at her, a slight frown furrowing her otherwise unruffled brow.

“What? No, no of course not. What information do we have about what they’re actually looking for? Is there any theme? Number of guests?”

“No theme that we know of, but it is posh. Catwalk stuff. Think of the Oscars red carpet, and you’ll be about there. The Muslim ceremony will be held first, in her uncle’s palace, and will be a massive affair, I gather, though largely hidden from the press and paparazzi. This second ceremony is to satisfy that more public appetite for celebrity glitz. Number of guests is to be confirmed, but won’t be fewer than five hundred, so we’ll need the ballroom for the actual ceremony, and the banqueting suite for the formal meal to follow. We can handle those numbers, but they’ll be looking for that something extra, that sparkle that sets us apart from any other places they might be considering. That’s your job, to come up with the hook that lands them.”

“Of course.” Eugenie murmured the words, her mind racing with possibilities. She was itching for the meeting to conclude so she could find her way to her new office. She needed to start planning her campaign to get Lucas and Farah to tie the knot at Totally Five Star Paris.

* * * *

The list seemed endless. Every time she closed her eyes to visualize the wedding she came up with yet another possible theme. Colors, eras, vintage, rock music, rustic, more outlandish ideas such as pirates or fairies, or perhaps a sporting theme would be more appropriate. Or the arts. Maybe the bride would like something romantic, a bit whimsical. Without knowing more about the personality and lifestyle of the couple, Eugenie really had no idea.

Lucas Belanger was easy enough to research. A Google search came up with literally hundreds of results, though primarily concerned with his prowess on the football field. Successful, skilled, one of the top players in the world, and the most expensive. His earnings put him in the multi-millionaire bracket, though he was still only in his mid-twenties. He’d clearly enjoyed the lifestyle that went with his wealth. He was pictured in top nightclubs, driving the sexiest cars and lounging on the most exclusive beaches. As far as Eugenie could tell, he’d never been embroiled in any of the scandals that seemed to attach themselves sports personalities, or maybe he was just more discreet than most. His playboy lifestyle seemed to tail off in the last eighteen months or so, possibly due to the influence of his bride to be.

On Farah Ajram Eugenie could find almost nothing. There was a record of her having attended the
École
Normale Supérieure
,
Paris’ most prestigious seat of learning, where she obtained her master’s degree in the history of art. Eugenie whistled under her breath, Farah must be bright as well as beautiful. But apart from this little nugget, the bride seemed shrouded in mystery. Who knew what sort of wedding might suit her, or even whether she wanted it to be themed at all? And given that she would already be married under Islamic law by the time this second ceremony took place, what was she actually seeking from it?

At the back of Eugenie’s mind, something gnawed at her. She sat back in her chair, eyes closed, and let her mind drift. What was it about this couple that seemed so obvious, yet so elusive? A squeaky-clean footballer, his lovely, exotic, and oh so secluded bride—what were they coming to Totally Five Star Paris in search of?

Privacy. Of course. And sheer, unadulterated excellence. Eugenie wouldn’t mind betting Farah wanted to satisfy the paparazzi, make her entry into the high-profile world of footballers’ wives and girlfriends, but be the WAG with panache. What if she aspired to quiet and discreet sophistication? Totally Five Star Paris could provide that. It was the hallmark of this hotel, its unique selling point.

As soon as it occurred to her, Eugenie knew she was right. If Farah and Lucas wanted a circus to please the media, they would have said so already. Prospective venues would have been scrambling to sell them shabby chic or retro or movie-themed wedding madness. Instead, the couple gave no clues. Maybe they weren’t even sure themselves, but they’d know what they wanted when it was presented to them.

Rather than trying to inject some new, untested and in her view quite ostentatious quality into the affair, Eugenie would showcase what they did best. She would offer them quiet, understated elegance. She could promise perfect service, a serene atmosphere, food and drink that was unequalled anywhere.

Add to it all the confidence that every detail of their big day would be planned and coordinated by Eugenie personally, that nothing would be left to chance. Aaron’s enhanced security measures would ensure the safety and smooth running of the whole process. Farah and Lucas could relax. They could enjoy their day knowing they were in safe and capable hands. It was a simple plan, but Eugenie’s gut instinct told her it would work.

“Taking a little nap? Are we tiring you out already?”

Eugenie snapped her eyes open at the masculine drawl from her office doorway. Aaron leaned against the frame, arms folded, grinning at her. She sat up straight, smoothed back a stray tendril of hair that seemed to keep escaping the neat clasp at the nape of her neck. What was it about him that always put her on edge? She fought the urge to stand and lower her gaze.

“I was thinking. Planning.” Was that a defensive note in her voice? She hoped not.

“The wedding?”

“Yes.”

“Me too. What are your thoughts?” He came right into the room and took the chair opposite her desk. Eugenie didn’t recall having invited him in, but hell, he was so good to look at. She knew her knickers were moistening and she shifted uneasily in her seat.

“Are you okay, Genie?”

“Fine. Yes.” Now she sounded snappy, waspish. Shit. She hadn’t reckoned on him still having the same effect on her. Their relationship had been hot and intensely sexual, but it was over. Long dead. Or so she’d thought. Her pussy seemed to disagree.

“Good. So, what are your plans then? How do you propose we reel in this footballer?”

“We don’t need him. We need
her
. Farah will decide this, not Lucas.”

“You think?”

Eugenie nodded, her certainty growing. “Yes, I’m sure of it. And she’s not looking for anything over the top. There’s a reason she never appears in any of the celebrity magazines or tabloids. No one has ever heard of her because she’s intensely private. I reckon she’s looking for a secluded, intimate and above all
tasteful
wedding. Glamour, yes, sophistication, definitely. Elegance—off the scale. We have all of that, so we need to make sure she sees it, that she appreciates all the finer details and is absolutely confident in us. By us, I mean you and me. You to keep her and her guests safe, me to be on top of every detail for her, to make sure everything she wants is there, even before she knows that she wants it.”

Aaron’s expression never changed. He regarded her carefully, assessing. Eugenie sat still, hoping she’d said enough to convince him but ready to marshal further arguments if need be. Her panties continued to dampen as he scrutinized her.

His face cracked into a brilliant smile. It lit up her room. “I think you may be right. In fact, I think you may be a bloody genius. Holy fuck, girl, Elise was right about you.”

“What? I mean—Elise?”

“She said you were gifted, a true talent. You haven’t even gotten to your first coffee break yet and already you’ve accomplished more than the rest of the team have in months of thinking about this. So, how do you suggest we sell it to them?”

“Who? Sell it to who? The management team?”

“No. Elise delegated it to you, and to me. She’ll trust us to come up with the best strategy. We’ll tell her what we intend once we’ve worked out the details a bit more. I meant how should we sell ourselves and Totally Five Star Paris to Farah Ajram?”

“Ah, right. Well, we need a timetable for every part of their visit. They’ll be here for two days so…”

Eugenie spent the next couple of hours mapping out a detailed program. Aaron contributed, clarifying points and supplying details she had yet to learn about the hotel, the facilities, the staff. He asked questions, drilled down into the detail, identified gaps that Eugenie plugged. By lunchtime, they had their strategy in place.

“We’ll need to brief everyone that they are likely to come in contact with—every waiter, every chambermaid, every porter. All need to exude the same quiet, efficient charm, the same attention to detail and desire to please. Everywhere they look I want Farah and Lucas to see excellence.”

“That’s your department. I need to make sure my security team is invisible, but doing the business behind the scenes. I’ll get on it.” He shuffled his notes into a pile and stood. “Have lunch with me, Genie?”

“What?”

“You heard me. I want to have lunch with you.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Maybe just because it’s been a busy morning, we’ve worked hard and now we’re hungry. But if you insist on having it spelled out, how about because you’re a new colleague? I want to make you feel welcome. And if that’s not enough, how about because you’re a beautiful companion, creative and intelligent, and I’ve enjoyed your company this morning? You’re a pleasure to work with. So have lunch with me. Please.”

Well, when he put it like that… Eugenie smiled up at him. “Thank you, Aaron, I would love to have lunch with you.”

* * * *

At Eugenie’s suggestion, they ate at the terrace bistro. Aaron admitted it was his favorite too. They ordered soup and rolls and, as they waited for their lunch, Eugenie contemplated her companion.

“About what happened…” She blurted out the words before she had an opportunity to think through what she actually wanted to say to him.

“Yes? What about it, Genie?” To his credit, he made no pretense of not understanding what she meant.

“When I, when I…”

“When you attacked me with a cane?”

She cringed at the memory. “Yes.
That
. It was unforgivable. I am
so
sorry.”

Aaron shrugged. “Not entirely unforgivable. I forgave you years ago. It’s in the past now. We’ve both moved on.”

Well, he might have. Eugenie gaped at him, her jaw dropping. “You forgave me? How? Why? I hit you. It was the one thing a good submissive should never do.”

Aaron’s grin was warm, as though he found some humor in the recollection. “I reckon there are lots of things a good submissive should never do, and yeah, calling your Dom a bastard and laying into him with a cane is probably on the list—near the top, in fact.” He paused, his face taking on a more thoughtful expression. “But a good Dom should have read your signals better than I did that day. We both made mistakes, and we need to learn from what happened perhaps, but not agonize over it.”

“You were a good Dom. It was me—”

“No, I wasn’t. Not that day. I was in control, not you, so I was responsible for how our scene turned out. I should have realized how distressed you’d become and talked to you, understood better what was happening with you.”

“I should have used my safe word.”

“Yes, and that would have stopped the scene. But you gave off enough signals even so. You weren’t in the right headspace, so you wouldn’t have learned from being caned. You’d have hated me. You did hate me, at least for a while.”

“I was angry, and humiliated. I felt so stupid and shocked at what I’d done. I couldn’t face you again. Well, not at first. Then when I could, you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“I tried to contact you a couple of times in the few days that followed, to check you were okay.”

“I know. I deleted your messages. Why wouldn’t you talk to me after that, though? I came to your house. I left a note.”

“You wanted to get back together, but it was too late for that. I hadn’t meant to hurt you, but I had. I don’t mean physically, but emotionally, and I would have again. We were looking for different things. I’m not convinced you wanted a Dom at all, and if you did, he wasn’t me.”