UNDRESSED BY THE KING

Chapter 4 - Some Like It Soaked

~ You’re so hypnotizing. Could you be the devil? Could you be an angel? ~

***

Nicollete

“No, I can’t go, but thank you for the invite,” I replied to the person standing next to me: Professor Malorie who most graciously took the ancient mirror out of my apartment. Oddly enough, when he admired the thing and even touched it, nothing happened to him. It ultimately led me to believe that its curse - if it was even called one - had already glued on me and it was nowhere near transferring to another poor soul.

But whatever. I am just happy enough that it’s out of my hair for good.

“Are you sure? You are a donor too. You helped us quite a lot with establishing the museum.” The Professor looked at me with disbelief.

“I...I have other plans for the night, Professor,” I sheepishly said. I do have one and it was a date with my paint brushes and easel. Ever since I left Malta, I hadn’t finished the painting I was commissioned to do by a movie actress. The deadline was still by the end of the month though, twenty more days to go but still, my hands itched to hold the brush.

“Okay, but if you change your mind, here’s the invite.” He looked at me with understanding and then handed the green card.

“Alright, thank you.” I took it and nodded at him with a smile.

I closed the door once he left; taking a deep, relieving breath for finally the source of my problem was gone. Maybe for a die-hard fan of fantasy and supernatural, they’d accept their fate of being cursed and thrown in a different world, but not me. I value my sanity and life. I’m surrounded with too much weirdness ever since I became an archaeologist and I don’t want an additional.

“I’m fine. Everything’s going to be fine. That mirror is gone now,” I whispered to myself as I made my way into the kitchen.

“Stop it. Stop it!” I shouted and threw the paint brush into the wall, fed up with a faint female echo in my ears. Eight hours past since this morning, I had hoped that everything in my normal life would return. I didn’t expect that the mirror would still hunt me by using a female echo, making sure I’d be uncomfortable the rest of the day since its departure from my bedroom.

The cursed thing was really cursed. Maybe I should have thought about it before I hauled it up from a stone box in our excavation site.

“Shhit...” I massaged my temples and closed my eyes. The half-finished painting in front of me of a nude woman was beautiful enough to ogle at, but my eyes just wanted to rest.

“Fine. Fine!” I shouted, standing up, and then picking the green invitation card from my work desk.

God, I needed a distraction and the best way for it was to go to an opening party.

“Ms. Holland! You made it!” Professor Malorie exclaimed after he saw me disembark the cab.

I smiled at him and accepted his cheek-to-cheek greeting.

The man was thrice my age, almost like a grandfather, but in his navy blue suit and classic necktie, he looked younger.

“Yes, uhm, my prior plans were cancelled, so yeah, I’m here,” I answered him whilst adjusting on my body-hugging semi-sequined dress that was just above the knee. The gathering was a formal one so I needed to wear formal clothes as oppose to my everyday wear of ripped jeans and shirt.

“Good. Good!” He nodded, pleased. Then, he placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “Let me take you to my table. I want you to meet my colleagues. They are intelligent people you would be happy to meet.”

I agreed with him.

“Right, then lead the way, Professor.”

We strode into the school’s main foyer and then into a hallway that lead to the dining venue. I heard the pumping techno sound from the speakers and I smiled, knowing without a doubt it would help me fend off the female echo that still rang in my ears.

“Everyone, I want you to meet, Ms. Nicolette Holland,” Professor Malorie stated right after we reached his table. “She is the one who contributed to some of our museum displays tonight.”

I smiled at them.

“This is Madame Helen Ainsrow, the School Principal with her husband, Mr. Miguel. This is the University Board Director, Mr. Arthur Shuvert, and this right here is Dr. Millard Danes, my partner and co-museum owner.”

They each smiled on my way, but Dr. Danes, being the one that was near where I was, stood up and shook my hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Holland,” he said, showing a delighted face under the yellow and blue lights of the function room. He looked of the same age as Professor Malorie too, but he still had black hair that may or may not be colored. He was tall though. Probably four inches taller than me and I am wearing heels.

“Professor Danes, no, the pleasure is mine,” I said back.

He swept his hand to the side and gestured for a vacant chair on his left.

“Come sit, we have just started dinner.”

I nodded at him, but some sort of curiosity suddenly hit me.

“Are you expecting someone, Professor Danes?” I asked looking at another empty chair in my right.

“Yes, I am,” he answered while we sat. “He is the major benefactor of this museum.”

“Oh really? Then I should probably meet him to say my thanks. But uhm... he must be a very busy man,” I replied.

That only led him to faintly chuckle at my comment. Huh?

“Yes, he is. You have no idea, Ms. Holland. His time is always of the essence.”

I watched as a waiter neared us with a tray of a la carte courses. Without intending it, I giggled at myself for the boy, probably in his early twenties, winked at me as he handed the seafood pasta. I always had this kind of effect on men, even ones that were below my age. I just turned twenty six last February 7, still single after I broke up with my long-distance boyfriend and workmate, Sean. Though we loved the same job, we never got along fine. I was just lucky enough that I didn’t give my virginity to him. The man was always looking for an adventure. I guess, he never saw me as one.

But good riddance to him.

I ate and conversed with the respected people in my table. The University Board of Director told me that after here, we would be touring the whole two-floor museum. I acted excited when he said that, but little did he know, I was dreading to look at a certain artifact again: the mirror.

Professor Danes seemed to be very uneasy though, looking at the entrance door again and again. It was probably because of this important benefactor that’s why he acted like that.

Half an hour of eating and talking, we noticed a commotion in a corner of the function room - the area where there was a viewing deck that showed the school’s front foyer. Then, squealing college girls ran out of the door.

I lifted a brow, clueless but curious.

“What’s that commotion over there?” I was the one bold enough to ask.

“Oh no,” Professor Danes quickly expressed whilst wiping his mouth with the pasta sauce, looking rather worried. “Uhm, excuse me my friends, I think my guest has arrived.”

He stood up and my eyes followed him as he exited the room.

***

Lucein

“God, didn’t I tell you not to be flashy?” the Professor whispered-groaned at me when he finally squeezed himself from the idolizing crowd I had unintentionally gathered. I had just arrived in this school and yet I had already collected a few approving and desire-filled glances of both men and women around me.

Men, because of my seven-digit sports car I drove and women, because of my - obviously - good looks, drooling at me like I am some s*x God ready to lick them.

“It’s just Maybach, Professor,” I answered after a small curve grew on my lips. “It’s not flashy.”

Dr. Danes just huffed at me, his expression flat. “Yes, right and your Audi R8 isn’t too.”

I shrugged my shoulders, ignoring the lascivious stares of my crowd.

“The King of Zaxonia likes his toys shiny,” I answered and then stepped forward, throwing the key to a jock who caught it like it had herpes. His minions consequently bellowed at him to be careful.

Huh. Funny people.

“Come, let’s get you out of here. You are messing with my female students,” the Professor exclaimed just as he signaled the opposite s*x to move.

“Indeed.” I stared at them - at their flushed, near-to-orgasm faces. I bet they were soaking wet down south too.

We entered the main foyer, side by side, but Dr. Danes immediately stopped, showing a pissed off face. He turned and placed his arms akimbo.

“Alright, students, nothing to see here! Stop following the man. Get back to your tables or else I’ll give you an F!”

There were collective whimpers that I could hear after. I turned my head to the side and to my amusement, saw my followers pulling a sad face and then one by one, they disappeared into a hallway.

“Tshhh, hormonal, the lot of them,” he remarked once he turned to my attention. “Next time, I really should reconsider inviting you in a school activity.”

I stared at him and grinned. “See, I told you so.”

He sighed and thereafter, we continued our way towards the venue.

Smoothly, I entered the big hall like the King that I am: shoulders squared, back straight, both arms relaxed and cool, wearing the latest suit in the fashion industry and a neutral face.

That neutral face however cracked when I caught a glimpse of a woman sitting in a table where we were going.

Hell, (or should it be Heaven?) there she was as stunned as I was, staring straight at me with not a hint of desire like those college girls before but with a hint of fear and something close to confusion.

Heck, I think she recognized me even in my short hair, but would she believe me real then? I had a feeling she had concluded to herself that what she experienced last night was just a dream. Me, just a dream...

Me, just a dream? Huh! Preposterous at its best!

“Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you Mr. Darien Ozric, the major sponsor of our museum,” Dr. Danes announced once we stood a few feet away from the table.

Everyone stood up, including my mysterious woman, but she was the last, maybe because she was still in shock.

Dr. Danes enumerated the people he was working with while they moved closer to me for a handshake. I nodded, gave them my reserved, practiced smile and exchanged pleasantries until it finally came to her.

Her.

“And this is Ms. Nicolette Holland, one of the major contributors of artifacts you’ll be seeing later,” the Professor said. I just tuned his voice down for my total focus was on her - the woman who had surprisingly lost herself in my realm.

We met eye to eye. I studied every inch of her - from her face to her stiletto shoe.

Her hair, just like last night, was colored of rust - the beautiful reddish shade of it. She had it done in a simple twist and adorned with fiddlehead diamond pins. She wore make-up, but only minimal of it; carnation pink lips with shimmer and brown eye shadows. Just that. Nothing more, nothing less. But the simplicity of it just added to her beauty.

She wore a dress that perfectly flaunted her curves. Curves that I’d love to trace. Curves that I hadn’t noticed last night since it was dark.

And now, s**t, I’m feeling the tightness in my pants. Again.

Dr. Danes cleared his throat loudly and it was only then that I realized she wasn’t responding to his introduction of me.

“Ms. Holland?” he said.

“Ms. Nicolette?” Professor Malorie stepped in and shook her right shoulder a little.

She was still looking at me, eyes as wide as saucers. I didn’t feel uneasy at all. Instead, it amused me.

“Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the man pointed out.

Finally, she blinked and then cleared her throat, glanced at the floor and then back to me.

“Ahh, nothing. Nothing, Professor,” she smiled, meant to erase both of the professors’ concern. “Uh, I just...uhm, hi, it’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Ozric.”

She was quick to compose herself. Impressive.

“Such a small world isn’t it?” I said just as I shook her hand. Double meaning there.

“Excuse me?” She shot a brow at me, clearly under my trap.

“Hmm,” a rumble in my throat emerged. I couldn’t help it but it was so easy to mess with her. “It’s an honor to meet you too, Ms. Holland.”

She appeared to be taken aback, but only briefly though for she narrowed her eyes at me. Calculating me.

Then calculate all you want.

As if on cue, Dr. Danes stepped in our little bubble and said, “I reserved this seat for you, Mr. uhh Ozric. You wouldn’t mind sitting next to this lovely young woman right?”

He was clearly reading all the right signs, but he doesn’t need to play Cupid at all.

I could handle it from here onward.

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” was my answer.