Goody Two Shoes (20 page)

Jonathon noticed the spark of hope in his Dad’s eyes, “Dad, I am not only in, I am considering starting a fricking fan club!”

Senior laughed and stood up, reaching across the thick wooden desk to shake his son’s hand, “Wonderful!” He boomed, “But don’t make the mistake of thinking one epiphany is going to change the world.  You have a meeting with Peter Gilbert in twenty minutes; he’s going to talk to you about computers and technology.  I figured that’s where you’d want to start.  Tomorrow you meet with Niles Crawford down in HR to learn about employee benefits… and so on.  I’m afraid this is going to be a crash course in running a shipping company, but you’ll have the Devereux boys beside you.  Their father and I had to figure things out the hard way.  At least I feel like I’m giving you boys a heads up.  But listen, if things get fuzzy, and they will, call Elise.”

The phone on Jonathon’s desk began lighting up, flashing with immediate need.  Taking this cue, Senior turned and walked to the doorway, “Lunch?”

Jonathon nodded, “Yep!” his Dad closed his office door.

Picking up the plastic receiver, Jonathon issued a cheerful “Yes?” into the mouthpiece.

The sultry voice on the other end sent warmth to his heart, “So are you in one piece today?”

“Oh yeah!  I’m more than fine.  How are you today?”  His tone was oddly chipper; she had always found Jonathon to be quite charming, but today, his voice was somehow different; more mature, and sexier.

“Working endlessly?  How about dinner?”

Jonathon paused, thinking rapidly, “Sure.  Carolina’s?  Eight?”

Ellen Devereux
was taken aback by his brevity.  She’d hoped for a hint of what had happened during his initiation last night.  What the hell, she’d find out tonight.  “Sure, see you then!”  She tried to match his sunny tone but hers came across depressingly flat.

As she hung up the phone she felt a shiver of excitement race through her.  Let’s be real.  She’d always considered him kind of a little kid; thinking of him as more of a puppy dog than actual boyfriend.  But have no doubts, there was something in his voice just then.  Something’s happened to him!  A transition on preconceived notions about Jonathon Galloway was taking place within her, and she leaned back in her chair in the closet sized Post and Courier office.  Tapping her pen to her lips she considered what they could possibly have done to him last night that would spark this kind of instant change.  But her brain was muddled with the depth of his voice; the way he dismissed her hurriedly as if she was of no consequence to him.  Carefully she scanned the crowd of reporters in the outer office.  She turned and faced the window as she removed a steel paper clip from her drawer.  Reaching between the buttons of her shirt she pinched her nipple hard, and then snapped the clip onto it.  It’s a nasty habit and she knows it, but she discovered it during her college years and it helps her relax.

She left her desk early since her column was already complete.  Besides, the tight clamp on her left nipple was driving her insane.  No one would notice the small bulge the clip made beneath her Wonder Bra once she put on her coat, not that they’d notice her anyway.  She’d basically spent the day arranging engagement notices and 50th Anniversary announcements.  Her work was becoming more mundane by the minute and she honestly thought that she was considered somewhat of a joke amidst her co-workers.  While they were busy investigating political mysteries and murders, she was writing about how Mary Joe and Jim Bob made it through fifty years without drowning one another.  If she could just break the story of the Sand Dunes Club, they’d have to take her seriously.  Hopefully by the time she got home, the clamp would have cleared her mind so she could plan her investigation into their curious ways.

Surely Jonathon will spill the beans tonight!
  She thought as she released the sharp clip from her breast in her bedroom.  The release filled her and she slung her business skirt and top to the floor in her haste to find her vibrator.  It didn’t take long for her sexual tension to resolve.  Being free of the pain on her nipple caused her to relish in liberty.  Every sensation was multiplied a thousand fold now as she took in a deep fresh breath of the island air.  Amazed at how much she appreciated in her life now that the pain was gone.

She soaked for an hour in the porcelain claw footed bathtub that stood in the center of the bathroom, contemplating scenarios that could possibly occur at The Sand Dune’s Club.  She’d read about the Skulls, the Mason’s, and even the Hellfire’s, and they all had one single mission, success.  It wasn’t a jump that the Sand Dune’s members had the same goal.  But this was more than trading stock market tips and drinking scotch.  No, she felt it in her gut.  It was much, much more.

Jonathon
smiled in approval as she walked across the candlelit restaurant towards his reserved table.  He stood to watch her cross the room and moved behind her chair to usher her in.  The red dress clung to her skin, showing her shape in detail.  Her nipples were hard through her bra and his throat tightened at the sight of them.  Silver hoops sparkled in her ears, and her deep chocolate hair flowed around her like her own personal halo.  He felt the pressure in his slacks as she lowered herself into the chair he held.  Quickly he kissed her cheek and assumed his seat.

He held up the bottle of chardonnay, “Hope you don’t mind.  I ordered this already?”

“Not at all.”  Ellen suddenly felt out of her league.  She’d been in this very restaurant maybe a hundred times; not once had it affected her this way.  There was a distinct tingle in her panties and all she wanted to do was stare at his five o’clock shadow.  It gave him a gruff, manly look; a Paul Newman kind of posture that made her want to touch him.

Jonathon caught the glance, and reached his hand to his face, “Sorry, I didn’t have time to go home and change.  I was working late.”

She didn’t want to think about anything but touching him, but wasn’t sure how that would play out in the middle of the restaurant, “What were you working on this late?”

Jonathon Galloway
sipped the wine; the taste of the California grapes was sweeter than he preferred but he knew women liked it.  He’d asked his secretary what her favorite was.  He knew why he was here tonight:  to look at Ellen in that astonishing dress.  Perhaps even to kiss her goodnight, or if he was a truly lucky man, she’d invite him to the island.  But he also knew why she was here.  The fascination she had with ‘breaking’ the story of Charleston’s most private club was overpowering for her and he knew it.  He bet on how long it would take her to get to the real subject at hand, “A few things around the office needed rearranging.  Dad’s got me on some training regime that sounds like mortal hell.  He’s itching to play golf and fish all day I think.”

In fact, Jonathon had spent the better part of the afternoon negotiating with an extremely stubborn northern health insurance agent who was refusing to pay for treatment for an employee’s child.  The woman on the other end of the line had pissed him off from her first syllable.  That northern nasal tone naturally sounds condescending, if he hadn’t spent four years at a northern college he wouldn’t understand that it’s not meant that way.  But the woman had a chip on her shoulder today and she was making negative choices.  He’d been feeling that way a lot before last night.  That he was merely trying to survive in his world rather than trying to tackle it, so he’d softened to her, explaining that the company needed this policy to cover the child and why.  He told her the truth- that the family worked hard, they raised their kid’s right, and the wife made a mean German chocolate cake.  After promising to get the recipe and forward it to her, she explained what the entire problem with processing the claim was, giving him the option to repair the issue with a few written notes from the child’s doctors.  Problem solved.  He thanked her profusely, after letting her know that her service to their company was invaluable.

He was a different man today and he had to admit that it felt good to be in charge of his future.  When his father had told him that he’d be taking over the company in less than a year,he’d wanted to run, maybe join his friends in the Peace Corps for a few months in the Congo.  It wasn’t that he hadn’t planned on taking his place in the company at some point, it was that he hadn’t expected it at this point in his life.  He’d always imagined a wife, a few kids and a cocker spaniel before he’d step into the top spot.  Actually, since Dempsey Devereux was older, he’d wondered if the position might not go to him.  But Dempsey had chosen law school; it came in handy at the shipping company, so his father hadn’t complained.  His enrollment had thrust Jonathon into the future number one position.

“So Jonathon, tell me about your initiation?”

Sitting back in his chair, he considered just telling her what happened.  By morning he’d be found dead in his bed of a gunshot to the head, but he hated lying to her.  “A test of my ability to control myself.  They tried to piss me off, button pushing type thing.”  It was the truth in a way, and a much better option than ‘Oh I let your sister tie me to the table in her attic and torture me.  Then we masturbated together.’

“So when is your next meeting?”  And he didn’t miss the slight toss of her deep chestnut curls as they billowed around her face.

He wasn’t naïve enough to think that she wanted to schedule her week around dates with him, “Friday.”  He sipped the sweet wine cautiously.

“Oh, I was hoping we could do a movie or something this weekend.”

Jonathon was considering his future with her.  Already she was a difficult woman.  He could see sparks growing in her eyes until they formed brilliant burning stars.  The revelations he’d had with her sister last night had confirmed that a Devereux woman was definitely for him!  If he was going to take the company worldwide, then he’d need the strongest woman possible at his side.  And in Charleston, and he dared the entire planet, Ellen Devereux was the pinnacle of all women.  She was a perfect fit; a pair of blue jeans that feel like an old friend right from the store.  All he needed was to make her forget the Club.  He shifted in his seat as he leaned towards her across the white linen tablecloth.  “Ellen, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course Jonathon, anything, ask away.”

“Where do you see our relationship five years from now?”

Not very many people threw Ellen off her guard.  He could see the shocked look on her face, “Jonathon I have no idea.  I hadn’t thought that far.  Forgive me for bad math, but isn’t this our second date?”

“Hmmm.”  Jonathon mulled her answer, “So the reporter’s in the spotlight, is that right?”

She smiled tolerantly, “If every single time I ask about the Club you’re going to ask me to marry you, our conversation’s going to be highly limited.  You realize that don’t you?”

Jonathon laughed and he cut into his steak, “Answering questions with questions now are we?”

She threw her napkin on the table and leaned forward, “Jonathon Galloway!  Don’t play games with me!  I know something happened at that Club and I want to know what!”

He leaned back with a deep belly laugh, “Okay!  Okay!” And he held up his hands in surrender, “Let’s see, Dad drank a bunch of bourbon and made a speech.  We watched a skit about how all work and no play makes for pissed off wives and… then I drank too much.  Second meeting was the part where they burned me with fire and officially let me in.”  There now, he thought with a proud grin,
I didn’t lie not one single time!

With their meal finished and anxious to change the subject, Jonathon wiped his face with the linen napkin from his lap.  “Ellen, would you like to see my condo?”

“Absolutely!  Let’s go!”  She’d be glad to fuck the information out of him.

My scream sounds foreign to me as my body floats into another dimension; each throb is like a wave rolling onto a deserted beach.  But like the tide, it soon retreats.  I’m left feeling weak and confused

~Tara Townsend

~Tara Townsend

Path to the Pole

Mystery Lover

My alarm goes off the next morning, but I’m already awake.  Though I didn’t acknowledge Simmons leaving the house, I was more than aware when he did.  While enjoying the luxurious feeling of my legs against the fluffy Egyptian cotton sheets, I hear my back door open and close.  I rustle to shove the most recent pages of Quinn Carmichael’s manuscript, which I’ve printed, under my pillow.  Although I’m not sure why.  It just seems personal to me somehow and I don’t want to share it.  A minute later Patty plops down on Simmons’s side of the bed.

“So?  Give me all the nasty, dirty details!” She drools with enthusiasm.  I roll over and lean on one elbow, looking into her glittering green eyes.  Brown hair, with somewhat of a light frizz, is pulled up into an easy pony tail, and noticing her gym clothes I marvel at how she maintains energy to exercise this early in the morning.  She’s staring at me impatiently but I can’t meet her gaze.  My humiliation level has kept me firmly planted in my bed this morning.