Chapter 21: Diamond in the rough

Suzanne insisted on going with me to be measured for my tux, saying she wanted to make sure it was ready on time. I think she just wanted to get me alone to find out how Kelley and I were getting along.

"Is it getting serious?" she asked.

"No."

"Three nights in a row sounds serious to me."

"This is not a night. It's an afternoon swim and dinner. She has a date," I said, already planning to call Loretta as soon as I got a look at Kelley's date.

"Would you like to bring her to dinner tomorrow night? We'll eat in the dining room and I'm sure you want to see Judge Slocum and meet my brothers."

"I'll see if she's free," I answered, thinking of my back-up choice and what a hit Loretta would make with the Judge and the Cummings brothers. Mr. Oldham wouldn't find inviting an employee to the house amusing at all. Ned and Penelope were employees, but they were like family.

The fitting went painlessly and the shop owner assured Suzanne my tux would be ready on Friday morning. She reminded him that her brothers would be coming in for their fittings the following afternoon.

Four o'clock couldn't come soon enough for me. Suzanne stopped me as I was leaving, objecting to the way I was dressed, with a sweater over white shirt and tie, casual slacks and my leather jacket.

"She said it's informal. I'm wearing a tie," I countered.

I was in the garage, starting her car when I discovered that I had forgotten to pick up the garage door opener to the condo. Not wanting to go back in the house, I decided I would take Loretta to a motel. What if I called and she refused to come out with me? Oh well, I would cross that bridge ... later.

A maid answered the door at the Harvey home and seemed to be expecting me. She ushered me to a changing room, adjacent to the pool, saying she would inform Kelley I had arrived.

The room was like a small apartment, with seating, lockers and a separate bathroom. I changed quickly, entered the bubble and discovered the plastic shell did little to raise the temperature of the cold outside air. Conversely, the water was surprisingly comfortable.

The door to the changing room opened and I turned just in time to see Kelley hit the diving board, stop, bounce twice and hit the water.

During the seconds she was on the board I took in the bikini, one shade lighter than her green eyes. Her matching breasts, right down to the pattern of freckles on the upper portions, disappeared too soon. She surfaced three feet from me, shook her head, laughing.

We stayed in the water for three hours, swimming from one end of the pool to the other, stopping to talk, taking up where we had left off the night before, and swimming back to the other end. We didn't touch, in fact, we didn't get closer than three feet from each other, but during the second hour, the questions changed from, "How often do you floss?" to "Have you ever been in love?"

We both answered in the affirmative, but didn't elaborate.

Kelley admitted that she had an agenda. "You're only going to be here a few days. I don't want to leave a stone unturned," she said.

"You may not like what you find under some of the stones," I warned.

"Don't try to hide what's under your stones. Let me judge whether I like what I find or not."

"There are some things in my past that are difficult to let surface."

She took off to the other end of the pool and I followed her.

"Would it be easier for you to write those things in letters?"

"Letters don't work for me either. I attended a wedding last month for some friends I hadn't seen in over four years. We corresponded faithfully, but I discovered that I don't really know them anymore."

"Four years is a long time. Anyway, I hate writing letters."

"There's always the telephone," I offered and watched as she shook her head.

"The telephone's no good either. For instance, if I ask if you think of me when you masturbate, how will I know if you're telling the truth? I don't want bullshit; I want honesty. I want to know everything about you before you go back to school."

"I'll be home again in four weeks."

"Four weeks is too long. By then, we'll either be in the second phase of this relationship or we'll be strangers."

I wanted to ask about the second phase. Why was she rushing things? "What do you want to know?"

We swam to the other end of the pool before she spoke. "I want to know who you're going to vote for next year. I want to know if you believe in God and if so, what you pray for. I want to know why you wear your hair long and I want to know precisely how you got that scar on your cheek, not simply that it came from high school football. In other words, I want to know which music you prefer and if you're reading the same books as me."

"How many children do you want?"

She looked stunned for a second, grinning. "Now you're getting the hang of it," she said, before swimming away.

She was waiting at the other end of the pool. "Three, but I won't be disappointed if it's four, as long as one is a girl. Does my answer meet your approval?"

I had never given children a thought and didn't know why I had asked the question. "Yes," I said.

"Which would you rate highest? A partner who draws the attention of the opposite sex, but is cool toward the act, a partner who is attractive to you, but is only mildly interested in sex or a partner whose looks are barely passable, but enjoys sex beyond your imagination?"

"Is that a trick question?" I asked, knowing I couldn't answer honestly. Was she telling me that she didn't like sex?

"Think about it," she said, climbing out of the pool and running toward the changing room, giving me a view of her ass.

By the time I reached the changing room she was leaving by another door, a robe and towel draped around her shoulders.

At dinner, the conversation ranged from world events to sports to the economic climate. I was glad that Erica had advised me to read the weekly news periodicals.

It was evident that Mr. and Mrs. Harvey were very proud of their daughter. I estimated their ages to be about the same as Mr. Oldham's, fifty-seven and thought they had adopted Kelley after giving up on Mrs. Harvey giving birth.

I kept expecting Kelley to excuse herself and say she needed to get ready for her date. Surely, she wouldn't go out wearing the turtleneck shirt and the same corduroy slacks she had worn to the ice cream shop, would she? Her hair was combed back on the sides, reminding me of Erica's hairstyle.

"Do you play chess?" Kelley asked and when I looked at her, puzzled, she added, "I cancelled."

It was eight-fifteen when we set up the board in the den-office-library. Mr. Harvey watched us play for an hour before asking if his making a telephone call would disturb us and I believe Kelley mumbled something like, "No, Daddy."

The next thing I remember hearing was Kelley saying, "No, Daddy," again, followed by the television news coming on.

"Goodnight, Dear, goodnight, Sammy."

I heard my name and looked up to see Mrs. Harvey in the doorway. The television screen was dark and Mr. Harvey was getting up from his desk. I stood up, thanked Mrs. Harvey for inviting me to dinner and shook hands with Mr. Harvey.

Kelley spoke to her parents. "I'll arm the system and be up as soon as I kick Sammy out."

Her parents left, laughing and Kelley looked down at the chessboard. We had two pieces each, but she had me. It would only be a matter three moves before her queen would outflank my bishop. "We'll have to finish this another time. I have early appointments tomorrow," she said, mercifully beginning to put the chess pieces away.

It was near midnight when we began to say goodnight and thirty minutes later she was still peppering me with questions, between kisses. After finding out that I didn't spend spring break skiing or on a Florida beach, she reopened the question she had presented while we were in the pool. "Have you decided which mate you prefer, one, two or three?"

Why was this subject so important to her? Was she trying to tell me that she was sexually frigid? If so, we were wasting each other's time. I decided to give her an honest, straight-forward answer.

"If I were limited to the three choices you presented I would take number three because that's how strongly I feel about sharing exceptional sex with my partner. But there are some other requirements I look for."

Kelley's supple body was affixed to mine like a screw-top lid on a pickle jar. She must have known my cock was wedged between us, but she didn't budge when she heard my answer.

"Care to share those requirements?" she whispered, taking my earlobe between her lips.

"In addition to being my lover, she must be my best friend, my advisor, tolerant of my shortcomings and demanding."

Kelley pushed herself up on her tiptoes, rubbed her tummy against my cock and kissed me. My hand slipped down to hold her ass close. "What time tomorrow?" she asked between kisses.

"Suzanne told me to bring you to dinner at our house. Some of the guests are arriving tomorrow."

"I'll leave work early. Be here at four. We'll swim and you can explain 'demanding' to me," she said as she pushed me out the door.

As I drove home I was glad I hadn't made an actual date to see Loretta.

The next morning at breakfast I told Mr. Oldham about our chess game the night before, hoping to impress him with her skill. I was working up to asking him if I could leave work early when Suzanne joined us.

"Sam says the Harvey girl beat him at chess," Mr. Oldham informed his wife to be.

Suzanne nodded, like this news was agreeable to her. "Is she coming to dinner tonight?"

"She wants me to come for a swim at four," I said, apologetically.

That's all it took to assure my early release. She planned my schedule, what time I would need to leave the office, how long it would take me to shower and change clothes and even what I would wear. The way Mr. Oldham folded reminded me of the way Kelley had rubbed her tummy against my cock the night before. Like me, he would have agreed to anything.

"I'm meeting with my immediate staff, Sam. I'd like for you to have lunch with us and then you may leave."

I said, "Thank you, Sir," and Suzanne smiled approvingly.

The meeting took place in a conference room near Mr. Oldham's office. I waited until he told me to take a seat to his right. His secretary, Stacy, placed an agenda in front of everyone and left the room. I scanned it and saw that the head of each department had fifteen minutes to give an overview of their department's performance for the year past. After everyone had their turn, there would be a short break and then they would start over by describing their plans for the upcoming year.

Mr. Oldham opened the meeting by stating it was his desire that the company would operate smoothly while he was away in Europe. Everyone present gave their assurance that he had nothing to worry about.

I noticed that while each presenter gave his or her view of what took place in 1991, Mr. Oldham made notes in the margin of the agenda. I pulled a pen out of my pocket and did the same, having a strange feeling that he would want to see my notes.

At the break I went to look up Wanda and ran into Loretta.

"I heard you were home this week," she said, making it sound more like a question than a statement. She was dressed conservatively in a matching light grey skirt and jacket over a black top, so sheer that it was evident her bra was black. Her dark hair was parted at the center. I wondered if she dressed up because she knew I was going to be in the office.

"Yeah, it's been crazy at the house. I haven't had a moment for myself and the guests are going to begin arriving today."

I watched her roll her lips, thoughtfully. Her eyes were open wide, like she could see right through me. "Does that mean you're not going to have time to call me?"

"I want to, but you know, family obligations ... perhaps after the wedding ... or, I'll be back at Christmas," I offered.

"It was nice seeing you, Sammy," Loretta said, smiling. As I watched her walk away, swaying, I considered making a definite date, but I couldn't make my tongue work. Something told me Kelley would have plans to keep me busy.

Wanda was not at her workstation. I found her in an office with her name on the door. "Did you get promoted?" I asked.

"Didn't you know? I thought you had something to do with it," she said, coming around the desk to give me a hug. She felt soft and her hair smelled clean, like lemon-flavored shampoo.

"I've got to go, but I want to hear all about it."

"Let's go to lunch," she suggested, excitedly.

"I've got to eat with the executives, but if you want to wait I'll watch you eat."

She agreed to wait for me and I went back to the meeting. My inclination about Mr. Oldham wanting to read my notes was correct. He let me read his notes to, "Show you what you missed," he said.

As the morning meeting concluded and lunch was brought in, the atmosphere in the room changed from somber to light-hearted merriment. There was good-natured joking about the boss' last days of freedom and Mary Southerland, the head of Legal even propositioned Mr. Oldham, "What do you say, John? Are you up for a last minute fling?"

The room became quiet until Mr. Oldham spoke up, "Mary, you had your chance when we were on the Phoenix trip together."

Everyone cracked up, even Mary, but when it became quiet she quipped: "Suzanne warned me not to touch you. She threatened to cut my hands off."

I went away from the meeting with a new respect for Mary, also for Mr. Oldham. She demonstrated the ability to crack his shell and he permitted it to happen.

I took some kidding from everyone, too. I said goodbye to them and went to pick up Wanda. We went to one of the local restaurants, which was a favorite spot among other Oldham employees.

Wanda wasn't sure why she had been promoted.

"You don't think it was because my Mom owns a chunk of the company, do you?" she asked as soon as we sat down.

I had other things to discuss besides her promotion. I wanted her to order, eat and I would take her back to work.

"That's preposterous. How many people know your Mom is invested? What did they tell you?"

"Mr. Oldham said it was a reward for predicting a slow market in certain cities. Boston is on its ass and Phoenix is oversold, too. Your Dad said we were able to renew current leases and maintain a respectable level of occupancy. I guess you've heard what's going on in the residential market?"

Wanda ordered a sandwich and a Coke. I told the waitress that I would have a Coke, too.

"That's the answer. You were promoted as a reward. It's like a bonus," I said.

She wasn't satisfied. "I don't have anyone working for me. I'm what they call an individual contributor. There must be more to it."

"I'll find out," I offered.

"Would you do that for me?" she asked, excitedly. Now we could move on the important stuff. "What did Loretta tell you about our date?"

Wanda went into her timid, 'I knew you were going to ask that' mood. Her sandwich arrived and she took a bite before answering. "We shared experiences."