Amply Rewarded (13 page)

“What does that mean, ‘she’s quite the lady’?” I asked them both.

“It means she’s nothing like you,” Timothy said, point blank.

“But what does that mean?”

“It means we like you.” Hal laughed.

“You don’t like your wife?” I looked at Timothy. “What are you with her for, then?”

“It’s complicated.” He sipped his martini.

“In other words, it’s for the cash,” I whispered as Hal turned to reach for the ice bucket.

Timothy said nothing to my statement. He looked down as though he was thinking about it for a brief second, then he shook it from his conscience altogether, smiled at me and clinked my glass. “To the greatest lady I’ve ever known.” He raised his martini high in the air and Hal, who hadn’t been paying attention until just then, turned to me and said, “Here, here. The greatest lady ever.”

It seemed somehow strange that they were so adamant in their accolades for me. I had never quite felt as if I’d belonged with anyone before, but maybe the reason was quite simply that I hadn’t. I’d never had girlfriends growing up. They hadn’t interested me—they’d seemed so silly and uptight. I felt as if Hal and Timothy had become excellent friends.

“Well, boys, I have to go. Sam needs me in the kitchen.”

“You’re working?” Hal was shocked.

“Serving, actually. Serving her. I’m doing whatever she wants me to do.”

“Why?” Timothy asked.

“It’s complicated.” I laughed. “And she’s hot. What’s a girl to do?” I strutted out of the cabin and left them staring, shaking their heads, confused by something I knew they could not see.

In the kitchen, Sam had her head in the fridge. I didn’t think she’d heard me come in, but she mumbled, “You’re late.” Then she looked at me. “What are you wearing?”

I eyed my white turtleneck and jeans and shrugged.

“This is kitchen work, sweetie.” She was so firm. “Get changed.”

“But this is the most casual outfit I have.” It was true. When Hal had bought me a wardrobe before we’d left, I hadn’t thought I would need work slacks. I’d only bought dresses and this pair of designer jeans.

“It figures.” She rolled her eyes in my direction. “You can’t wear your fancy clothes in my kitchen. Take them off and put this on instead.” She tossed a white bundle to me. I caught it mid-air.

I looked at the fabric. It was just an apron. Two could definitely play at this game. I undressed, neatly folded and placed my clothes in a pile underneath the counter. The apron could not possibly cover my erect nipples. I was sure Sam had planned it that way. I was incredibly turned on at the idea that she might take me right there in the kitchen.

“I need these mushrooms cleaned and washed,” she said, handing me a big, stainless steel bowl.

“Are you serious?” I was disbelieving. Hadn’t she just asked me to get undressed? Had I missed something?

“Get to work,” she barked.

Fine
, I thought.
Suit yourself
.

But she
was
suiting herself. This was exactly what she wanted—to drive me crazy with desire and to then further pretend that she did not care at all. It was so strange. I stood there, naked, rinsing mushrooms in her sink with a tiny, gentle-bristled brush. She wasn’t even looking at me from her side of the kitchen, where she was busy with various containers. If I hadn’t been naked and aroused, I would have felt as if I were working in the kitchen with my mother, or working as a prep cook in some dodgy restaurant somewhere with a very stern manager. This was not the kind of fun I had been expecting. It was more than fun. It was strange. Like meeting someone more adept at playing the part of me than I was.

“I’m finished,” I said, once I had inspected all the mushrooms and carefully placed them in a new bowl.

“We’ll see about that.” She came up behind me. The heat that radiated off her body was more than I could handle. I wanted to melt back into her and feel my skin against hers. I could feel her breath on my neck as she leaned over me. She was quite a bit larger than me, a really staunch-looking, capable woman. She, predictably, did not seem fazed at all by our closeness. She was, after all, wearing pants. It was me who was the more susceptible of the two of us.

“This won’t do,” she said. “Look, here—what’s this?” She picked one of the white mushrooms out of the bowl and held it close to my face. “See?”

I shook my head.

“Dirt.”

“Where?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t see it. You were negligent and you know it. And you know what happens to negligent kitchen girls…”

“No.” It was true. I didn’t.

“They get punished. They have to do the same chore over again.” She looked me in the eye. Had it been anyone but her, I would have assumed they were joking, but Sam didn’t look amused. “You heard me. Get to work.” She put the bowl down so hard that some of the mushrooms ricocheted off the side and spilled into the sink.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“What was that you said?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated, and gulped.

“Yes,
sir
,” she said.

“Yes, sir,” I repeated.

“And you can think about that while you clean this next round.”

“I will, sir.”

My hands were wrinkled and pruny by the time I called her back over, and she still managed to find a tiny speck of dirt, even though I had spent almost an hour ensuring each mushroom’s utter perfection. She was unbelievable.

Then she assigned a most putrid task. She ordered me to scrub the floors on my hands and knees.

“You do realise I’m not wearing anything,” I pointed out, trying to appeal to her sympathy, which I learned was futile wishful thinking on my part.

“I guess it’ll be easier for you to clean yourself up afterwards,” she said.

Some sympathetic character she was.
My perfectly exfoliated, perfectly waxed, perfectly moisturised legs on this filthy floor?
I almost refused. But this was a meeting of minds and if anyone was determined, it was me. There was no way I would back out on anything, no matter how far she pushed me. How far could she possibly push me?

I started by sweeping. Then I got down with a bucket of hot, soapy water, a hard brush and a thick rag, and began. My nails felt as if they were going to peel right off my fingers. The soap stung my skin and my knees went immediately red. All I could think about was her approval. I tried to guess what she would disapprove of next. She was impossible to please.

It took me two hours but I scrubbed the filthy floor to perfection. I almost thought she had forgotten about me, because she left without saying a word. I had been tempted to stop when I’d finished the initial scrub, but I’d known better than to walk away before she’d had a chance to come and inspect my work.

By the time she came back, I was ready to burst into tears. I had worked so hard. I was sweaty and felt awful and she had pushed me so far. My hair was a mess, I had dirt under my nails and my knees were scraped. I had even slipped on the floor and had a bruise on my hip from the fall.

“I’m finished, sir,” I said when she came back.

“Are you sure about that?” She smiled. She wasn’t bothered at all that I had slaved away for her all afternoon.

“I’m fairly certain, sir.”

“Not entirely certain?”

“Well, no, sir. Not until you inspect my work, sir.” My face was flushed. I was so tired, I felt like fainting.

“Good girl,” Sam stated as a matter of fact.

They were the first nice words she’d said to me since we’d met.

I beamed. I could feel myself blushing. I could feel the rush of her attention on me. Things would change now, I was sure. Oh, yes, she was coming to see what a great servant I could be, and I had earned her respect with my diligence.

“Now, get to work on the bathroom.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I thought that…”

“You thought that what? This was some kind of game? That I don’t really mean what I say? You think I’m giving you orders for you to ignore them? Is that what you think?”

“No, sir.”

“That’s better. Now, scrub that bathroom. I don’t want a single speck in there. Every surface disinfected. You got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

With that, she left again. I wondered what I was doing there in my apron, naked and hurting. Had I not agreed to be Hal’s lady? This was not what ladies did. So why was I here? Why couldn’t I prise myself away from Sam’s relentless task giving?

She came back only to dismiss me for the evening.

“Your job here is done. I’ll see you tomorrow morning bright and early for the breakfast shift. Come dressed appropriately this time.” Then she walked away. She didn’t even look me up and down, just mumbled under her breath, “You’re filthy. Clean yourself up.”

Chapter Nine

Upstairs, I tried to avoid Hal and Timothy, but inevitably that kind of plan fails. Hal just happened to be in our room, getting dressed for drinks on the deck, and he saw me. I hadn’t even bothered to put my jeans back on. I just walked up with my dirty apron barely covering anything.

“What happened to you?” He chuckled.

“Sam. That’s what.”

He started laughing. I thought it was unfair.

“She’s quite the stern one,” he said.

I wasn’t sure how he’d intuited that I was dirty from cleaning and not from having dirty sex all over the kitchen with Sam. Somehow that seemed unfair, too. Was I that transparent?

“Stern, yeah, that’s an understatement,” I said as I picked up my silk robe and walked into the bathroom to shower.

Upstairs, it became obvious that Hal had filled Timothy in on my day with Sam.

“So what’d she make you do?” Hal pestered. Timothy studied me intently.

“Never mind.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Look, you know nothing about it. You wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t get it.” I was tired, cranky and confused.

“Maybe not. But I would like my pillow fluffed. Would you be a doll and get that for me?” Timothy just couldn’t help himself.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re such an ass.” I kicked his ankle under the table.

Then I remembered that I also had leverage. It wasn’t the greatest feeling to have your friends at sea turn on you. There was nowhere to retreat to, nothing to do about it. Still, I couldn’t help myself when it came to engaging in the other side of the equation.

“So, Timothy, when’s your wife meeting us?” I asked casually as I stirred my drink.

Hal burst into his usual warm laughter.

It was dark. The deck was lit with lanterns and the shadows created such great effects on both of the men’s faces. As I sipped away at my second drink, I felt, again, like the luckiest girl in the world to have friends like them. It was almost enough to distract me from my day’s chores and the nagging, yet titillating, knowledge that the next morning would hold similar challenges.

The sexual frustration was killing me. If Sam wasn’t going to fuck me at all, I was going to have to do something else. Maybe I’d have to fuck Timothy again, just to get the impulse off my chest. But I had come to appreciate what we had together. There was a special bond between us—the kind of bond that only a kindred spirit can have with her husband’s lovers, which was when I realised that, indeed, I had started to think of Hal in that way. It had happened so naturally that I almost didn’t understand it. My body had been so focused on Sam and, before her, Timothy, and before that, on the idea of Hal.

Timothy just smiled at my comment. It was a topic none of us wanted to entertain.

“This brings me to something,” Hal announced. He straightened his collar, running his finger along the ridges as though it were too tight around the neck. Timothy and I looked at each other and turned to him. “All this talk of marriage…”

Timothy winked at me and touched my arm. My stomach was suddenly in knots. We had been to Duke’s Point. I was busy plotting my seduction of Sam at the time. I hadn’t been thinking. We had stopped, Hal had been to a city, the two fellows had been awfully sneaky since their return… I tried my best to be unassuming, but Hal fumbled through his pockets.

“Miss Julie?” He beamed. “Will you dance with me?”

He took my hand, Timothy turned up our CD player and we danced on the deck in the darkness of the summer night. It was perfect. I’d never thought about this kind of moment when I was growing up. I’m sure many girls did and, when they did, I’m sure they did not imagine that their suitor would be twice their age and uninterested in a sexual relationship with them, but this was my reality and I loved it. Timothy clapped and cheered and was wonderful as Hal pulled me closer, guided me back and forth across the deck. I laughed at how silly we must have looked, dancing there to an Eagles hit that I vaguely remembered from my dad’s radio in the truck.

I leaned on Hal’s chest, burying my giggles against his neck. The song stopped and I sat down.

“Timothy, you should join him. Dance. Come on,” I urged.

Hal was dancing and gallivanting by himself. He was so sweet and secure in himself to be able to entertain us with his pantomime of a dance partner.

Hal took Timothy’s hand and the two of them looked so lovely together. I smiled as I looked at them through the bottom of my glass. They were both fans of classic seventies tunes, it was obvious. They anticipated each beat and eloquently mouthed the words. Not even half a song went by before Timothy sat down again.

“Tonight’s about you, Julie,” he said.

“What about me?” I became very shy for the first time ever in front of them.

Hal just looked at me. He was smiling, shaking his head back and forth. “I never thought I would meet anyone like you, Julie. Come here.” He took my hand again and pulled me from my chair.

I stood in front of him and he hugged me, then proceeded to crouch down on one knee.

“Oh my, Hal. Don’t bother with that. You know I will,” I said and took his hand and yanked him back to a standing position. I jumped up on him and wrapped my legs around his waist, steadying myself with my arms around his neck.

He put his arms around me. “You will? I’m so glad.”