F Campbell - Golden Wrists

“Could we return to the legal business of Hugo’s claim, Mr. Everleigh? I find your fantasies distasteful.”

“Ah, yes, business! That poor boy’s claim and the nuisance you’ve been making of yourself. As a concession to you personally, Diane. I’ll make Hugo Markham an offer of one hundred thousand dollars.”

“That’s in insult.”

“If you willingly yield to my car and plane, I’ll raise it to a million.”

I tasted victory but was still a lawyer. “Two million is the barest minimum. And that’s only a fraction of what he claims is his right.”

No one could win with Andrew Everleigh. From an inside pocket he withdrew some folded papers. “I have everything here, ready to sign. I figured on the two million, so everything is in order. It will need Markham’s signature.” Everleigh spread the papers out flat on the desk and looked me squarely in the eye. “I’m not really settling a claim, Diane. I’m buying you. These documents won’t get my signature until I have you safely handcuffed and firmly committed to being once more my prisoner. What do you think of that?”

“It’s crazy! No lawyer would sell herself into slavery to settle a client’s claim. Mr. Everleigh, please give me a break.”

My plea was waved off. “We all know the unusual circumstances relevant to what we are about to do.” Uncle Andrew said, evenly. “You’re probably half in love with Hugo Markham, but remembering when you were at Rockley, I’ll make a shrewd guess you’re getting hot between your legs. Now about that situation in the sunshine I’ve just offered ... Believe me, it has intriguing possibilities for you. And let’s not call it slavery but a special vacation. And you’re not my prisoner, but my possession. I value you, Diane.”

“I sell myself without receiving a penny!”

“You’ll have no need of money, not ever again.”

What a package, the most incredibly messed up situation any girl could face. I knew Uncle Andrew was easily reading my mind, knew also it would be useless to protest, but I was still female. “What you’ve told me of this ‘situation in the sun’ sounds horrible,” I said. “Would you care to tell me more? Something that might intrigue me just a little?”

“You’re already intrigued, my dear. No, I’ll tell you no more, you’ll have to take me on trust, the same as at Rockley. But get this straight, Diane. I’m offering you a deal. Two million for the settlement of Markham’s claim, and I’ll sweeten the pot with a trust fund of a million for yourself. I don’t know when you’d ever use it, but in your state of mind it will give you comfort.” He winked a wise old eye. “Money cures everything for lawyers ... Doesn’t it!”

I sat there stunned, gold on my wrist and a million dollars hovering before my eyes. I’m only human and I am female. When Uncle Andrew pushed the papers at me and rose to leave. I felt a feminine anxiety. “You can get Markham’s signature on these. And when you’re ready to yield yourself to me and wear those handcuffs properly, you can give me a call at the number you’ll find on the letterhead. When you hands are safely locked. I’ll hand you the trust company’s certificate for your million. But I’m damned if I know what you’ll do with it.”

Uncle Andrew raised my golden hand and kissed it and then was gone.

For long after my would-be owner closed the door I sat in dazed elation. Even though the price might be my freedom, I had obtained for Hugo his heart’s dearest wish. With my own bribe, I had won three million dollars for us both. And for the life of me, Andrew Everleigh’s outline of his Caribbean island and my place thereon simply was not real. Somehow the absurdity would iron itself out with Andrew Everleigh proving himself an English gentleman and keeping me as his guest, perhaps prettily retrained, in some ancient estate for a month or two or three ... What did it matter. I had a million dollars!”

In this state of euphoria I phoned Hugo. I expect I was incoherent for he arrived in record time and the first thing he said was, “What the devil’ s that thing on your wrist?”

I told Hugo about the whole thing and showed him the papers.

We read the papers carefully and found them in good order. There was nothing cheap about Uncle Andrew. No matter how I tried to keep them out of sight, the golden handcuffs constantly intruded until Hugo produced the universal key. He unlocked one cuff and swiftly fastened it again on my opposite wrist. “If that old bastard thinks he’s going to steal you away, he has another thing coming. If it means parting with you, I don’t sign a thing.”

“Two million for you. Hugo? One for me; It’s very handsome”

“Piss on Everleigh’s millions. He thinks he can buy anyone and do anything. He’s not getting you, and if we loose the millions, so what!”

Hugo was always surprising. His declaration now sent a wave of heat throughout my body. We had never spoken of love but had fallen into an easy friendship that was warmer than I had realized. But while this left me wildly exhilarated on one hand, it deflated my enthusiasm with Everleigh’s millions on the other. Breathlessly I suggested, “Let’s get the money, Hugo. And let him play out his fantasy with me. If I’m not back in three months; you can do something. I’ll leave you my million to look after expenses, if there are any. I won’t be having pockets or handbags.”

“You mean that old fool wants you naked!”

“Well, yes. Let’s go along with him for the three months. Or if you don’t like the three months, make it two. Anything you like.”

“You’re getting horny just thinking about it. You want to go.”

Hugo was hurt.

It’s difficult for a handcuffed girl to hug a man but I did my best. I was beginning to feel like the most wanted girl in the USA but I was torn between loyalty, love, and dollars and cents. When Hugo led me from my office, I did not resist. It was one of those times when a girl is thankful for a man knowing what to do. When he got me home, he stripped me bare and cuffed me by one wrist to a ring in the wall. Hugo decided to go and make coffee while I did what he described as ‘think it over’.

I didn’t want to think, what I wanted was a terribly expensive dinner in a plush restaurant to clear my mind of millions, Caribbean prisons, and the question of what to do next. I had stood there several minutes before realizing Hugo had relieved me of decision:

When I absent-mindedly started for the bar to mix a drink, I was abruptly reminded of my status as a slave girl It was a very gorgeous feeling of belonging to Hugo and hoping he’d keep me locked up and safe. After the restaurant, of course!

“Get any ideas,” Hugo asked when he returned with coffee.

“No, I’ll leave the whole thing to you. May I please sit down?” With an air of long suffering. Hugo took me from the wall but locked both my hands behind my back. All I had gained was the privilege of sitting beside him on the couch, but I was grateful for even that. He helped me with the coffee while thinking aloud. “I don’t see how that old devil dare kidnap you. He knows I’d raise a stink.”

“You wouldn’t do that if you thought he’d take it out on me. Hugo, dear, let’s be realistic. And, please, may I have my hands?”

“The idea of him holding you like that is preposterous. The whole thing is preposterous. And, no, you can’t have your hands.”

“Where’s Margo?”

“I’ve got her tied to the pole downstairs. A few hours of that won’t do her any harm. Look, sweetheart, if this old Scottish bastard wants a girl to be mean to, let’s give him Margo?”

“He doesn’t really need girls, Hugo. He’s got a prison loaded with them in Rockley. For some reason of his own. I’ve aroused his erotic instincts and he wants me and no one else. Hugo, I’m scared.”