Personal Assistant (15 page)

       
“For me?”
Frankie lit up at his expression. He passed the
fork to his dad who in turn passed it to Frankie. She transferred the noodles
to her spoon and passed the fork back to him.  “Thank you!”

       
Under
his breath Jonas mumbled, “Maybe I should have bought you some noodles.”

       
“What’s
that?” Janice asked her brother.

       
“These
are delicious, too.” Frankie tried to cut off the questioning, but it was no
use.

       
“I
didn’t say anything.” Jonas denied it, stabbed a tomato and ate it.

       
“Uh,
yes you did. I heard you mumble something. Why are you being so weird?” Janice
frowned at him. She looked at Frankie, and then frowned at her. As the person who
was responsible for telling Janice no on more than one occasion when she had
invited her little brother to dinner, Frankie suspected she was the object of
her disapproval.

       
Time
clicked by painfully slow as dinner was eaten in virtual silence.

       
The
tension in the room was thick enough no one ordered desert, except for Buddy
Junior. He wanted some ice cream and the owner insisted the child have what he
wanted. After all, the family’s appearance there tonight would bring more
business later.

       
Janice
must have had enough of Jonas’s melancholy mood, and what must have looked like
agitation, but was really his attempts to aggravate Frankie with his feet under
the table. She said, “Frankie, I hate to ask you this, but can I get a moment
alone with my family?”

       
“Sure.”
Frankie said at the same time Jonas said, “No.”

       
“Jonas.”
Janice said in shock.

       
“She
stays,” he insisted.

       
“I,
um…I was going to go to the ladies before we left anyways so…”

       
Jonas
looked at her with an ‘if you leave I will be pissed’ glare. She didn’t want to
see
that
face on a poster for damn
sure.

       
“Let
her go to the loo.” Buddy laughed.

       
Janice
looked at her husband with a scolding glare and he bit his lips to stop
laughing.

       
“
Geeze
Jonas you are so rude to your assistant,” Janice
said.

       
Buddy
shook his head as though he knew something no one else at the table besides
him, and maybe Buddy Junior, knew.

       
Frankie
pushed away from the table and awkwardly left the area. She had consumed almost
a pitcher of water, she needed to go.

       
After
washing her hands and checking the phone tucked neatly in a pocket at her hip
she wet a paper towel in the sink. She pressed the towel to the back of her
neck and looked for feet under the two stalls. Realizing she was alone she said
aloud to the reflection in the mirror, “Get it together, Frankie. You
gotta
keep it together. There is nothing going on here. You
have a job, a damn good paying job, and you are not going to blow it, not for
at least six months. You will stop these shenanigans. Apparently kissing was a
useless defense. He is not an ordinary man damn it. Stop getting things
confused. So what if he buys you a car, it’s like buying a Hallmark card.
Just to say thank you.”

       
She
tossed the paper towel in the trash, wet her hands again to straighten a few
wayward wisps of her hair, took several deep breaths, and walked out of the
door and straight into Jonas’s chest. “What’s taking you so long?”

       
“I
didn’t know I was on a timer.” She took a step back and then tried to walk
around him.

       
“Is
anyone in there?” he asked as his arm came out to block her path through the
narrow doorframe leading from the bathrooms to the hall that led to the
restaurant.

       
“No,”
she said. “Is the men’s room full or something?”

       
They
were practically the only people in the restaurant, the door said they were
closed today, but Frankie suspected the Gunner Family had arranged to eat there
anyways.

       
He
stepped her backwards as he opened the door. He used his foot to pull the one
chair in the small room over to block the door. His face came close to hers,
dangerously close to her lips before turning her quickly to face away from him.

       
“Grab
the counter,” he commanded. Against her better judgment, she obeyed. “You wore
this to make me crazy didn’t you?”

       
“No,”
she lied. She looked at his expression as he lifted her skirt above her hips.
His fingers slid along her skin and she was unable to protest. She had thought
about him all day, had been distracted more often than not. It was why she was
so moody.
Too much sexual tension and too much work to do.
She should have just taken time to stop and masturbate, but she didn’t. Look
where it got her, bent over a bathroom counter at a fancy restaurant.

       
“It’s
not the eighteenth century. No one wears thigh highs and a garter belt unless
they are wearing them for someone, and usually in bed. Are you wearing this for
me or someone else?”  His fingers slid down the length of the straps and
back up again.

       
“I
like wearing them. I’m fond of several things considered provocative. I like
them because they are pretty, different, not because I’m trying to tease you. I
didn’t even realize you knew I had them on until you popped the strap in the
car.” She tried for a straight face as she lied. Before the shower, before the
car, before everything else, she had picked this outfit with the express
purpose of making herself feel desirable, and hoping by evening she would share
it with him.

       
He
slipped two long fingers under her panties and found her wet for him. It was
impossible to control her body’s reaction. The moment he touched the straps she
could feel her insides go liquid. Her outside tried to fight for reasonable
sanity. They were in a public place and his family was right outside. Or were
they? Any woman could walk in at any moment, if there had been any other women in
the place. It would be scandalous for him to be caught that way. Her career as
a professor, much less an assistant, would be over.

       
He
pressed them into her warm, wet flesh and she watched their reflection grow
blurry in the mirror as her eyes closed on a moan. It wasn’t fair. It was not
fair the way he could manipulate her body.

       
“Frankie,
you’re still on birth control?” He asked as his fingers moved inside her,
soothed her temper, and fueled her lust.

       
She
nodded her head yes. She had been on birth control since she was sixteen
because her mom caught her and Shay watching porn one afternoon after school.
They were studying to become the ultimate in the sack once they had a chance to
get in the sack.

       
His fingers pulled out and away leaving her breathless and wanting.
Not for long, though. The broad head of his cock always earned a gasp upon
entry, the familiar fullness, the ridge locking him inside.

       
“This
will be quick,” he said before gripping her hip with one hand and shoulder with
the other.
“Quicker than I would like, but I can’t wait any
longer.”

       
She
could feel his naked flesh inside of her, the heat more intense, the smoothness
unrestricted by the prophylactic, her body more sensitive to it, his too by the
way he thrust, hard, deep, then quick short jerks. She forced her eyes open to
see him as he came. He had no idea what a beautiful sight he made. In that
moment, many people tense their features, but not Jonas, he let go. Like
looking up at sunshine after the rain there was nothing but an expression of
peace on the man’s face when he came. He bit his lip, pushed, breathed, the
vein in his neck stood out with the effort. One eye closed, opened, he wasn’t
looking at himself in the mirror. Instead, he was looking at himself as he
pushed into her wet pussy and pulled out. A few more thrusts and he spent. The
rush of semen filled her, something she wasn’t used to. He pulled out of her
then stepped back.

       
He
looked a little bit shell shocked as if returning to his body from somewhere
else. He pushed his hands through his hair and looked at her.

       
Frankie
stood up, grabbed a few paper towels and put them under the water. Her body was
still aching, heightened with need, but this was not the time or place for her
to get off. Had he not ambushed her like that she would have convinced him to
wait. She needed to start convincing herself to stop. She handed him the towels
and turned to take care of her own business. “I think we have to stop being
reckless like this.”

       
He
nodded.

       
“I’ll
wait for you in the car,” she said with forced control. She left him there. She
was grateful she had left everything but her phone and the keys in the car.
Those items were tucked securely into an inside pocket on the hip of the skirt.

       
Once
in her car, her brand fucking new car, she tried to hold it together and failed
miserably. She was a blubbering mess when he got there. Stunned, he immediately
thought something had happened to her. “What happened? Where are you hurt? Did
you turn your ankle? Are you all right?”

       
His
hands were everywhere checking her for injury when the only things injured were
her pride and her heart.

       
“Talk
to me, Frankie. What can I do?” He pulled off his t-shirt and used it to wipe
her face. Another round of inexplicable crying began at the gesture. She couldn’t
imagine how much the shirt cost and he was smearing make-up on it.

       
He
sat back and said nothing for a moment, then asked in a quiet voice, “Did
I
hurt you?”

       
She
shook her head no.

       
“I
didn’t drink more than a glass of wine and that was when we first arrived. Do
you want me to drive us home?” He placed his hand behind her neck and gently
squeezed.

       
She
nodded.

       
Frankie
slid over as Jonas got out of the passenger seat and walked around the car to
get in the driver’s seat.

***

       
Jonas
drove them home, to his home at any rate, and by then Frankie was asleep, dead
to the world. Her head on his thigh he replayed the evening over and over to
figure out what had gone wrong. He carried her into the house and up the
stairs. He stood in the hall for several moments trying to decide what room to
put her in. He carried her to his bed and pulled one of her shoes off. He had
every intention of putting pajamas on her and letting her get some sleep. Maybe
he was working her too hard out of the bedroom. Maybe in it too, but it didn’t
seem like that before.

       
She
woke up with a start.

       
“What,
where am I?” Frankie grabbed her forehead and her eyes struggled against the
light.

       
“Home.”
He looked her over. Her nose was still pink from the
crying, her makeup wiped off long ago on his t-shirt. “I didn’t mean to upset
you.”

       
“Jonas.”
She started but he shushed her.

       
“Look,
Frankie, my sister was out of line. She should not have asked you to leave. I
know I was being a bit of a…brat, but I’ve never given something to someone
and…well had them try to give it back. I thought you would be excited. I was so
excited to get you something, anything that could show you how much I
appreciate you.
And not just your work.
I mean,
Frankie you have to know that I like you.
A lot.”

       
She
nodded and said, “I thought I could keep it separate, but I’m not dealing with
a normal situation.”

       
She
must have lost one of her contacts during the cry. One eye squinted as she
rubbed the other.

       
“That’s
fair.” He nodded.

       
“We
don’t go our separate ways at night. I think I need to go home at night from
now on. I like you, too… a lot. Maybe more than I should right now. I mean… how
am I going to make sure you don’t get put in the press for doing something
stupid if
I
am the something stupid
you’re doing?” She frowned.

       
He
hated to be the reason.