Free Destined to Play by Indigo Bloome

quiver beneath me as Jeremy holds me securely upright.
    ‘Lovely to see you again, Leo.’
    ‘Let me show you to your table.’ I am chaperoned to a lounge seat where Jeremy settles me into position. I quickly cross my legs, given my lack of underwear and inwardly curse Jeremy for making me feel as uncomfortable as I ever have in my entire life.
    Who is Leo anyway and why can I hear the faint hum of voices around me? I can feel my forehead developing minute droplets of perspiration as my anxiety rises at the unknown yet again. Why am I so on edge anyway? Relax, enjoy , I tell myself. Impossible , comes the response.
    ‘What will sir be drinking tonight?’
    ‘We will have two martinis, extra dry, stirred not shaken, with a twist.’
    Jeremy’s response instantly surprises me. He has just ordered my perfect martini, even though I haven’t touched a martini in the past ten years. Unbelievable.
    I try to keep myself calm enough to at least decipher my surroundings and congratulate myself on maintaining a few moments of self-control. I notice the carpet is thick and lush and the voices are very low; some nondescript music is meandering around the room. As the fact that we are not alone comes to mind once again, my apprehension gains momentum until Jeremy’s voice interrupts its predetermined destination.
    ‘I’m assuming you are happy to have a martini? That is the way you always liked them in Europe.’
    ‘A martini is the least of my problems.’ I try to calm my voice as much as possible. ‘How could you have brought me here with other people around? What if someone recognises us? I can’t believe you are compromising me like this. You are putting both of us at enormous personal and professional risk. How could you? It is totally unacceptable.’ My tension builds like a tsunami through my bloodstream. My heart pumps faster than it can reasonably handle, perspiration not cooling my body temperature as effectively as it should be. He has gone too far, this is not right. My hands are twisting and palms sliding with sweat on my lap. My breath short and shallow, I easily diagnose my state as an imminent anxiety attack. Jeremy cups my hands together.
    ‘Calm down, everything is fine. You are overreacting.’
    Overreacting? My internal voice is incredulous. ‘Nothing is fine!’ I exclaim, control almost lost. I rein it in as best I can as I have no idea who is in the room, who these people are.
    Does it matter? Yes, it does, damn it . I answer myself. And no doubt Jeremy knows this, knows I will attempt to contain my emotions in public.
    ‘How could you put me in this situation, Jeremy? How dare you? Who are these people?’
    I feel vulnerable, alone and completely out of control. My body trembles as it experiences the invading cocktail of emotions. This is not nearly as easy as I thought it would be, and I’m a little disappointed in myself for not handling it more professionally. But what is professional about being at dinner with a frigging blindfold on? Goodness knows what they are thinking, seeing a blindfolded woman arguing with one of the country’s, make that the world’s most renowned medical researchers. Or maybe this just happens to be ‘Blindfold Friday’ at the InterContinential — as if!
    Suddenly, a moment of complete clarity and confidence sweeps through me. I realise I am in control. I still have legs that can walk, hands that can at least remove the suffocating blindfold that may enable some form of blurred, dark vision, and a voice to say ‘No!’ — the one thing I have never, ever been able to say to Jeremy. If luck is on my side, I may even be able to engage some innocent bystander to help me escape from this outrageous situation. As I let these thoughts rapidly flow through my body, I suddenly feel empowered to act.
    ‘I can’t do this, Jeremy. I know you were hoping that I could, and I have tried, but I can’t.
    I’m sorry I promised you, but it was a stupid mistake. This situation