Chapter 5

In spite of all my trepidations and fears of going to Baltimore for an internship, it ended up being the best summer of my life. Arens and Ponds treated me like a goddess giving me plum assignments where I made contacts with people whom I deal with, even to this day. Miranda Ponds took me aside in my second or third day and told me that I had a special something, a drive, and a determination that exuded confidence. All the while she was telling me this I wondered if she had me confused with some other young girl she had met in the islands.

On my third day in the office she took me to lunch and then asked me to go to a class with her. I was a little confused, but went along. She took me to a complex of offices for a major communications company. We met a friend of hers who took us to a room with 4 other younger women; all dressed as nice as Miranda and I. Then a matronly woman, who I thought to be 45 or 50 at first, came in and talked to us about looking and acting like executives. In her banter she revealed she was 30 years old, and as I looked at her I could see a pretty and shapely young woman behind her granite exterior. She talked about women getting respect for what they do, instead of what they look like. She went through a lot of exercises showing how to sit and stand, but mostly how to walk Forty-five minutes later, the group of us was walking, practicing being dried up old granite facades. The instructor then left the room and returned in the same outfit, but made up to be much prettier, looking very feminine, but not overly made up at all. I liked her examples, and I liked the way she showed me to walk. I felt I could walk into the room and be noticed, but not be ogled. The very last time the instructor left the room and returned, she came in looking like she was going to a dance club. She was very pretty, very sexy, and showing lots of leg and cleavage. Obviously she was going to extremes, but she showed us photos, from that day's security cam, of female employees entering the building. Some girls did dress like that. Whether any other girl in the room got anything from the class, I was impressed and I took a lot from it. Miranda said we would take a refresher some other time. She was very aware that being female in a male office world could be tough, and she wanted it to be easy. I already saw how she was treated in our office, and it obviously worked. She felt she needed this, and she was an owner! I knew then she had plans for me.

Her praise of me, the blatant favoritism I was shown in responsibilities and assignments, even had me thinking that she may be looking for something beyond our professional relationship. I wondered if the fact I met her while I was on a vacation with another female made her think I was gay. If this was the case, if she had aspirations of she and I having a relationship, she never ever broached it with me. Her fondness and confidence in me was just what she portrayed to me, and to her colleagues who later took me in their confidence.

While preparing alumni brochures and new academic client prospectus for the scholastic division of Arens and Ponds, a client contact called me and told me that Miranda, along with her partners in the Arens family, were going to make every effort to get a commitment from me to come and be part of their team as soon as I graduated. She was only telling me this so I could investigate other options before accepting a deal that may not be as lucrative as a na-ve student might think. I assured that person that I had proper guidance in those directions, but thanked her for her concerns.

It seemed everything I touched at the company turned to gold, but I admit I was given few opportunities to fail. I am sure that they wanted my combination of skills and looks to billboard their company. If I did not think that I brought more to the table than my blonde hair, blue eyes and nice figure, I wouldn't be there in the first place. While I may have had a naivet≠ about the power of sex and the "sex sells" side of business, I was not stupid. I knew who my real friends were, and those who sought to use me were cast aside, no matter what the business implications. I was no bimbo; I knew my job and did it well.

Bill managed to get to Baltimore as often, if not more than, promised. If he were not there 4 nights a week, it would be more, never less. He soon got into a routine in his job where his hours became almost regular; with a new campus intern handling the "grunt work" he did as an underclassman intern assistant. Most often I was alone on Monday and Thursday nights, and couple rare Fridays. I thought he would become weary of the travel, but he enjoyed the train for reading and even wrote on his new laptop computer. There were a couple of days when I had a day off, where I would ride to the City with him to shop for the day. Regular riders, and many train personnel, knew him by name, and would stop and talk to him. I never needed an introduction, with many saying, "And you must be Carree. Bill here has told us so much about you." I used to kid him that he had these people set up and scripted for the days I rode in with him. I knew he didn't. He was so proud of me, and I of him, plus we were in love. Ah, the love. Not many nights went by without making love in one way or another. We did not grow tired of each other, as I feared we might. We seemed to grow fonder. If I were to work late, I could time my arrival back home to walk across the park for some exercise. I also knew that when Bills cab went by, he would jump out, hug and kiss me, and walk the rest of the way arm and arm with me. Many summer evenings we went up my apartment steps arm and arm at 8 o'clock, ordered Chinese food and then sit on the stoop with a couple splits of champagne, waiting for the deliveryman, while watching people in the park. Once the food arrived we would go inside, eat, shower together and go to bed early to extend the time we held each other. Bill could wake at 6, shave, dress and be at the train for the 6:35 or the 7:00. He spent every lunch in the company workout room, but was always freshly showered when he got home again. I opened his brief case and traded fresh briefs and socks for soiled every morning while he shaved. There were other nights when we got home in not so good moods. These nights we usually forgot about the world with our faces in each other's genitals. Sometimes it was all we were hungry for, and the escape it provided. It was an existence we never wanted to end. When our worlds became hard to handle, sex distracted us back to the reality that we were still kids with a year of college left. Even the week my parents spent in Baltimore we decided we would not break our routine. They usually came by to meet me when I got home. We would wait for Bill, and go do some tourist or visitor "rite of Baltimore passage". They spent their days in Washington, as tourists. If they got back to town early, they had a key to my place and went there. My Dad said that if they sat outside people who passed by stopped and told them what a nice couple the newlyweds were, wanting to know if they were the bride or grooms parents. My Mom said that when she heard about Bill stopping his cab to get out and walk me the rest of the way home, she cried. "I knew my little girl had found the person who would love her and lead her through the rest of her life. I'm so happy for you." My sappy Mom said.