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Territorial Bonds

Chapter two

Jazz stepped out into the hallway with a sigh. He had left the part of the building that was actually the restaurant and he walked along the narrow hallway to the door at the end. It was always kept locked and the only way in was via an eight-digit pin code that Jazz had long since memorized.

Behind the door was a flight of stairs that he climbed two at a time, unwilling to make his boss wait any longer. He was slightly out of breath by the time he reached the door at the end of the corridor, and he raised his hand to knock, unwilling to just barge in unannounced.

“Come in.” came the eventual reply and Jazz slipped through the door, finding himself in darkness. It was how it always was when he went to see the man. The lights were always off, allowing him to see no more of the man than a dark silhouette. As such, he didn’t have a clue what his own boss looked like and wouldn’t be able to point him out in a crowd.

“Jazz, you’re late.” he stated, leaning slightly forward in his chair. Jazz stood with his back pressed against the door, unwilling to move closer to Lucas. He had tried once, to stand before the desk and try and peer at his boss through the darkness, but the man had commanded him to stay back.

“I’m sorry,” Jazz began, “I was just…”

He fell silent when Lucas made a slightly irritated noise. The man had never been once to tolerate excuses.

“Let me get straight to the point.” the boss said, leaning back again in his chair. “I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you here.”

Jazz nodded, despite the fact that it would be too dark to see it. “Yes sir.”

“Well,” Lucas began, “I’ve brought you up here to tell you that we are expecting a very important guest at the restaurant tonight.”

“Ah.”

Le Loup d’alpha was a very popular and successful restaurant, frequented by many prominent businessmen and celebrities. None, however, were deemed so important that Jazz would need to be called up to be warned about their arrival.

“You’re wondering why I felt the need to tell you this.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was a while before Lucas answered.

“The gentleman visiting tonight is a…friend of mine.” Jazz thought his voice sounded rather strained on the word friend.

“A friend, sir?” he asked.

“Yes.” Lucas replied rather swiftly, “An old friend. A very important man. I want you to treat him with the utmost respect, give him whatever he wants.”

Jazz nodded. “Of course, sir. May I ask his name?”

“Sam Taylor.”

The young man’s jaw tightened at the mention of the name. he had to force himself to speak. “Yes sir, I’ll do my best to see that he goes home satisfied.”

“See that you do. You may go.”

Jazz was quick to leave the room, pausing in the corridor to collect himself. He’d been thinking about the lawyer taking the case of defending the man that killed his family. Now he would have to personally be at the beck and call of said lawyer, while trying not to be rude, despite really wanting to. He wasn’t sure if he could hold his tongue and bite back the questions he wanted to ask the man, namely- why? Why would he want to defend the scum that murdered almost an entire family in cold blood?

On the way back downstairs, he fought to quell his anger, counting to ten over and over in his head as he descended the steps. His jaw was still tight as he moved back into the restaurant to join the others, to finally begin work. He checked the book quickly, confirming that the name Sam Taylor was on the list. The lawyer had booked a semi-private table in the corner of the restaurant for three people and was due to arrive in just an hour.

With a frown marring his features, Jazz got to work, aiming to get everything ready in time for the opening of the restaurant. He would be polite, alright, but he wasn’t going to let Sam Taylor get away with defending the man that had ruined his life.

By the time the clock ticked round to eight, Jazz was to be found hiding in the corridor beside the restaurant, chewing his nails thoughtfully. He didn’t want to go out there, to face the man that was going to let his family’s killer go free. He wanted only to go home and hide amongst his bedcovers, watching the old movies his mother had been so fond of.

But running away wasn’t an option. He was going to stay and pretend that it didn’t bother him, that he didn’t even know who the man was and what he did.

Jazz was just gearing himself up to go back into the restaurant, when one of the other waiters stepped into the corridor. He was a little taller than Jazz with messy, pink hair and a lazy smile on his face most of the time.

“Hey Nomine,” Jazz said, still chewing his nails. The other man gave him a wry grin.

“There’s a guy waiting for you out there. He’s that famous lawyer, Sam…”

“Taylor.” Jazz interrupted. “I know.”

Nomine nodded. “Well he’s looking kind of impatient already, so you’d better get out there.

“Yeah…thanks.” Jazz clapped Nomine on the shoulder and moved back into the restaurant. The man in question was standing in the lobby with his back to Jazz, talking to his two companions.

The first was a woman- beautiful with a perfectly curvy frame and long, dark hair that fell over one heavily made-up eye. Her dress was a dark red number that swept the floor but was cut low around her bosom, showing off her ample cleavage. She looked about thirty, but he suspected she might have been a little older, with a good range of cosmetics.

The second was a man, a little shorter than the woman in her heels, with a slender frame. He had strikingly beautiful features, almost delicate in a way, with a head of white-blond curls that made him look younger than he was. He had very smooth, pale looking skin and looked as if he was in his late twenties. From the way he occasionally brushed his hand against Sam’s arm, or gave him a slightly sultry look, Jazz had to guess that they were sleeping together. Perhaps the lawyer was sleeping with both of them- it was really none of his business.

Sam Taylor himself towered over the both of them at – Jazz guessed – about 6’4”. He had rich, auburn hair that he wore fairly long, a few inches at least. He was of a broad frame with wide shoulders and a strong chest but a slim waist. He was at what a lot of people would call the peak of masculinity and, Jazz suspected, about thirty in age.

Jazz took a deep breath and moved forward, pausing to pick up three menus before he approached the group. He forced himself not to cringe as Sam turned towards him, dark eyes taking on a rather amused glint as they raked over him.

“Good evening, Mr Taylor.” Jazz said, forcing a small smile. “Please follow me to your table.”

He turned a little too quickly, walking briskly across the restaurant, past all the rich diners, to the table set out for the lawyer and his companions. He pulled out the chair to seat the woman, waiting for the others to sit before he handed each of them a menu.

“Can I get you some drinks?” he asked, looking round the table, but he deliberately avoided Sam’s eyes.

Jazz pulled a notepad out of the pocket of his black half-apron to write down their drinks orders. Sam simply sat and stared at him as he wrote down the orders and he had to ask the man again to get an answer.

“A bottle of your finest red wine.” he answered finally in a smooth, cultured voice, his eyes fixed on Jazz’s- a stare that made him rather uncomfortable. He nodded stiffly, moving to get their drinks but suddenly found a hand grasping his wrist, pulling him back.

“I changed my mind.” the man told him, keeping the grip on his wrist tightly, so much so that it almost hurt. His eyes seemed to bore into Jazz’s and the young man found himself frowning slightly.

“I’ll have a bottle of your best champagne instead.” he said eventually, and Jazz nodded, virtually yanking his arm away from the man’s grip.

“I’ll get that right away for you, sir.” he said with a slight nod, turning and disappearing as quickly as possible.

Sam turned to his companions with a small smile.

“He smells of anger and sadness,” the woman spoke up with a smile. “I don’t think he likes you very much Samuel.”

“How intriguing.” the lawyer replied, leaning forward slightly, a smirk on his face. “Aren’t we going to have fun finding out why.”

Jazz fetched their drinks quickly, not looking at Sam more than he had to as he served them to them and then took the food orders. He didn’t like the looks they gave him, as if he was nothing, just someone there to please them. Perhaps he was, but he had always detested snobs.

While waiting for the food, he left them be for a while, sneaking out the back of the restaurant to have a quick cigarette to calm his nerves. His shoulders were tight and his neck hurt, and he was desperate to just run home and be alone. The man angered him so greatly, but he didn’t seem as if he even knew why.

The break was over far too quickly and he hurried back into the restaurant to collect the food, carrying it to the table on a tray. He served the woman first, overhearing the name Alexandra for her and Blake for the blond man. All upmarket, aristocratic names that belonged to people that thought they were too good for him.

“Boy.” Alexandra spoke up, waving her glass at him. “Fetch me another drink.”

“My name is Jazz, ma’am.” he replied, taking her glass and bowing at her, forcing down his anger. She gave him a look that clearly told him how little she cared about his name and he turned quickly to fetch her drink.

“Hmm.” Sam spoke up after taking a mouthful of his food. “That’s an unusual name. And come to think about it, the boy does look familiar.” He thought for a moment as he ate a little more of his food, savouring the exquisite flavours on his tongue. Le Loup d’alpha was indeed a fine, high class restaurant and the rumours that they served the best food in town seemed to be proving true.

When the truth dawned on him, he smiled slightly, taking a sip of his champagne. Of course he knew who the young man was; he had spent months studying the case in which he was involved. He had seen pictures of him looking so utterly sad and dejected, lost without his mother, father and siblings.

“Of course.” he said, raising his head to look at the other two. “The boy is a Monroe.”

“Monroe?” Blake raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow. “The family that…”

“Yes.”

Sam turned his head to watch Jazz, who was stood at the bar, talking to one of the other waiters as he waited for the drink. He remembered commenting on his appearance at the time, remarking on how attractive he was.

“He’s more pleasing to the eye in person.” he said, turning back to the others. “I wouldn’t mind a quick tumble between the sheets with him.”

Alexandra snorted indignantly. “He’s just a common human. And I don’t really think getting involved with him would help Deacon’s case now, would it?”

Sam nodded, but he continued to watch Jazz as he moved back to the table, setting the drink down before the woman with another slight bow.

“Anything else I can get you?” he asked, eager to slink away and hide back in the corridor, where he wouldn’t have Sam’s eyes watching him the whole time. The dark orbs seemed to follow him everywhere he moved, boring into his being.

By the time the meal was over, the three of them were utterly and completely satisfied. The food had been excellent and the service was better than expected, even if it came rather reluctantly. Feeling utterly full, Sam sent the other two out to wait in the car while the matter of the bill was being settled. There was never any question of either of them paying, he wouldn’t dream of it. With a bank balance the size of Sam Taylor’s, a meal at a fine, expensive restaurant was nothing.

Since he had opted to pay using his credit card, Jazz informed him that the transaction would have to be completed at the cash register, which stood round the corner from the lobby. He followed with a knowing smile on his face, his eyes drawn to the curve of Jazz’s ass which was slightly defined by his work pants.

At the cash register, as Jazz opened his mouth to speak, the lawyer took his chance and suddenly pressed the young man to the wall, slipping a knee between his thighs as he bent down to claim his mouth. It was a complete, dominating kiss in which he plundered the shorter man’s mouth, holding him still by his upper arms. He ignored the tongue that didn’t respond to his own and the hands that pushed at his chest in an attempt to get him to move.

When he did pull away, the waiter looked up at him in disbelief, his mouth hung open in such a way that Sam was tempted to steal another kiss. Before he did, however, Jazz’s mouth snapped closed and his features darkened to a glare.

“How dare…” he began, but Sam simply took one of his hands, sliding his down his front to cup his own groin so that the young man could feel the stirrings of his arousal.

“I am rather well endowed, you know.” he said, his eyes wandering over Jazz’s face, looking for the telltale signs of giving in as most people usually had. It never took too long to get people into bed. Either they were charmed by his money or his good looks or sometimes, his attitude. Jazz, however, seemed to be unimpressed by all three.

“If you want that kind of service,” he began, feeling his face growing red in anger as he looked up at the man, “You should hire a prostitute. I’m not a whore, especially not for you.”

Sam’s knowing smile widened. “Oh dear.” He shifted his weight, but didn’t allow Jazz to move from the wall, finding he rather enjoyed keeping him pinned. “I was under the impression that I could have whatever I wanted.”

Jazz’s frown deepened. “Well sir,” he forced out in the calmest tone he could muster, “I’m afraid I’m not on the menu.”

It was then that Sam relented and let him go, moving back from the wall and turning towards the cash register. “Pity.” he muttered as he did so, noting the tight line of Jazz’s shoulders as he moved in front of him to take the payment. A quick fuck with the young man would have been an enjoyable way to finish the evening, but he would have to settle with Blake or Alexandra instead. Still, it put the thought into his mind that he found Jazz rather intriguing, and he vowed to himself to find out more about the young man before the culmination of the trial.

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