Path To Glory
Chapter 19

Copyright© 2008 by Brendan Buckley



I ran into Clare and Amy at the hotel Monday morning.

"That Bailey is a firecracker," Clare said and I agreed with a nod. "I didn't know you were dating her?"

I told her I wasn't and it probably was only a one-time thing.

"It looked like you two were hitting it off," Amy chimed in.

I guess my wistful look gave me away.

"I was told it is more complicated than that," I said trying to plaster the same smile on my face that Cody's video had left. "Yeah, I think we both had a nice evening. But she's pretty busy and you know how that goes."

"Kinda like trying to date a football player in the fall," Clare said with a laugh. "I hope our flirting didn't cause any problems."

I told her Bailey thought it was hilarious.

"You should have heard all the questions Teresa had when you left," Claire told me. "We had her convinced the only three girls you wouldn't fuck were her and her cronies."

None of us had any firm plans so we headed to the beach for some tanning. Amy and Clare didn't share my aversion to alcohol, so they got pretty buzzed by the time their boyfriends showed up.

I kept hoping Bailey would call, but she didn't.

So I made a late-morning trip back to the hospital for some time with Sara before my "date."

Sara's face broke into a huge smile when she saw me.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite celebrity," she said. "How's Bailey Stenstrom this morning?"

I know I looked stunned.

"I guess she's fine," I said. "Are you a spy or something?"

She handed me the "Scene" section of the paper. There was a huge photo of Bailey holding my arm at the fund-raiser.

"Can I have your autograph," Sara said with mock sincerity.

I played along though.

"Sure kid," I said gruffly. "Gotta pen? You know us big stars don't carry pens around. How do you spell your name again, Stephanie wasn't it?"

I'd learned late in the season that some collectors were actually trying to sell my autograph for money. I hoped at the time they didn't waste a lot of time and energy on the endeavor, but I found out pretty quickly that people were actually willing to pay for my signature.

I was pretty put off by the whole thing and I almost stopped signing autographs. Luckily Beth had a better plan.

"Flood the market," she said. "The best way to make sure the only people getting your autograph are fans is to sign for anybody. Sign whatever they want whenever they want you to — within reason. If everybody knows they can have your autograph just by asking, no one is going to be able to sell it. In effect, it will be worthless."

I didn't have to explain to her that it already was worthless, but I took her advice. It worked pretty well, too, not to mention the fans seemed to appreciate the fact I was willing to stand there and sign things.

I'd sign T-shirts, scraps of paper, programs, whatever anyone had available. After the Gator Bowl, I signed one WVU cheerleader's butt and another's boobs. I made sure to use a waterproof Sharpie on those though. I hoped they were still trying to explain those away.

I spent a nice morning with Sara and promised to be back a couple of more times before I headed back to Kentucky. It wasn't like I had a full schedule. Hell, all my friends got so loaded at night that none of them rolled out of bed until noon anyway.

"Bring Bailey when you come back," Sara giggled. "I'll have you both autograph the picture."


My date with Britta was, um, interesting to say the least.

We met at Bailey's hotel and had lunch at their restaurant. I suddenly was happy for the $400 Bailey had slipped me when I saw the prices. Nine bucks for a BLT? You've got to be kidding.

Britta was everything Bailey said she'd be. She had a cute accent and she dressed to impress. She didn't sit opposite me at the table. Instead she pulled her chair around until she was sitting on my right. Her left hand was on my knee from the moment we sat down.

"I thought we'd have some lunch," she said. "Then I'd take you to my club to show you off. Then maybe back to my house for swimming. How does that sound?"

I began to wish I'd investigated alternatives. But lunch and movie — my standard date — didn't seem like it would work here.

"Sure," I said. "That sounds fine.

"I do have plans for later though," I lied.

Britta was clutching my arm possessively as we re-entered the hotel lobby. Thank God Mrs. Stenstrom was nearby.

"R.J.," Judy said when I'm sure she spotted the fear in my eyes. "You're on your fund-raiser date, aren't you? Bailey said she'd be back around 4. We'll see you then."

She turned to Britta.

"Please take good care of my daughter's boyfriend," she said. "I know Bailey wouldn't want him damaged."

Judy gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked away.

At least Britta had the grace to laugh.

"Your girlfriend must be pretty worried about me to stake her mother out at the lobby," she cooed. "Don't worry. I'll leave you intact — barely."

She was right. We went to her club for a short visit with her friends, and and then we went to her house to swim. Her house was nice, but it fell a little short of the Fergusons' in my estimation.

Britta didn't bother with much in the way of swim suit though. Her breasts were magnificent.

"And they're all mine, too," she laughed. Britta seemed to have a fondness for afternoon cocktails, as well, and I wondered if I was going to have to walk back to my hotel. It was only a mile or two away, but it was hot as Hades.

Britta had no problem brushing against me and pretty much did her best to tease me into submission. By 3:00 PM, she was lying topless in a chaise lounge and I was doing my best not to ogle her. I wasn't doing very well, I might add.

"Those really are magnificent," I said at last. I decided harmless sex wouldn't bother me in the least.

Britta turned to me and smiled.

"I'd let you touch them, honey," she said. "But you've waited too long. My husband and kids will be back any minute. Are you ready to go back?"

I damned my timing. I'd never screwed a married woman, and I wasn't sure that was I club I wanted to join either.

"My loss, I'm sure," I told her.

She joked about my no-kisses policy on the way home.

"I'll show you where I wanted to be kissed," she said with a leer as she slid her shorts to the side. "Here's my cell number. If you get lonely this week, give Britta a call. We'll work something out."

She dropped me off and I sat on the beach outside the hotel, hoping my erection would dwindle so I didn't have to tuck it into the elastic of my shorts band.

My cell phone started ringing as I waited.

"Is it OK if I come down?" Bailey asked.

I looked up to the seventh floor and saw her sitting on the balcony.

I waved and told her I didn't mind at all.


At least Jay Jr. was at half mast by the time she got there. He wouldn't stay that way for long, though. Bailey looked beautiful with her long, tanned legs flowing out of the bottoms of her shorts. She had on a tight T-shirt over her bikini top.

When she bent over in front of me to drop her shorts, my eyes about popped out their sockets and Jay Jr. was back to business.

"Why you dirty old man," Bailey said. "An innocent girl gets ready for the beach and you sit there and stare at her."

But she said this standing so close to me with just the slightest move of my head I could have licked her bikini-covered box.

Don't think the thought didn't enter my mind, either. I pulled my eyes away from her crotch to find her face, but I stopped midway when I saw the bottoms of her breasts peeking out beneath her bra top. They were milky white, in contrast to the rest of her long, bronzed body.

I just bowed my head and shook it.

"Poor baby," she said as she finally sat beside me. "Mom said that woman looked predatory today. I hope Mom didn't stop your fun."

I could tell by the lilt in Bailey's voice that she hoped her mom had done just that.

"I guess it depends on your definition of fun," I joked. "I can tell by your little display your idea of entertainment is similar to Britta's."

Bailey adjusted her bra top.

"Who are you calling little," she asked with a sly smile.

 
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