Chapter 15: A Good Day (part two)

Gregg closed the car door and leaned back into the open window. "Thanks again for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow. 9am ... don't be late."

Laura smiled excitedly and nodded. Just knowing that she'd get to see her "Master" again so soon had her body on fire. It didn't worry her that he'd told her to bring her sorority pledge paddle. She watched as he walked up the sidewalk to the cozy duplex on the opposite side of campus from where he lived. Standing in the main doorway was a beautiful red-headed woman with her arms crossed, and one foot tapping. 'Shit ... busted, ' she thought. 'Well, maybe he'll want a ride when she kicks him to the curb... '

Only from a distance did Heather look angry. As he trotted up the walkway, he could see that while her body language shouted anger, her face barely contained its smile. Gregg walked up to her to give her a peck on the lips. Unsatisfied with the chaste greeting — especially with an audience — Heather molded herself to his body and gave him a kiss that curled his toes, even going so far as to grip one of his asscheeks. If she were any clearer about marking her territory, then Gregg would have been branded.

Heather broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder while he swayed drunkenly in her greeting's aftermath. Giving the girl in the SUV a small wave goodbye, she led Gregg inside, leaving no question as to where he'd be spending the night. The SUV's tinted window rolled up and sped away down the block, taking the first corner with a screech of tires.

"How'd the lesson go Professor?" Heather asked, making sure she was ahead of him on the stairs so her shapely ass was at eye level. Her hips seemed to take on an extra bit of sway, and Gregg had to fight hard to keep his libido in check. Heather's was the cruelest form of revenge ... even if it made them both smile. Even wearing a relatively conservative white shin-length skirt and red blouse, the hypnotic sway of her hips could be ruled as torture by the Geneva Conventions.

"Better than I could have imagined. I'll have to tell you all about it tonight," Gregg said with a grin.

Reaching the top landing outside Rivkah's and E'dan's door, Heather spun around and made a show of straightening Gregg's collar. "As a teacher interested in the diverse learning styles of his students, Professor, I think you should know that I'm more of a hands-on learner ... I think it would be better if you SHOWED me the lesson I missed in class today..." Heather's eyes were wide and her voice pitched up in perfect imitation of freshman innocence. She may only be starting her sophomore year at Eastern State U in a few weeks, but at 24 years old, she was six years older than most freshmen ... and had more real-world experience than most would achieve in a lifetime. One doesn't walk away intact from a gangster-owned strip club without having survival skills.

As Heather batted her eyes playfully at Gregg, the mental image of Heather imitating Laura's submission, on her knees and swearing to obey his every command sent his head spinning. It wasn't just the redirection of blood away from his brain that made him dizzy:

FLASH Gregg and small band of soldiers clad in the armor of the Carthaginian court marching their caravan east, toward Cairo. They see a small village ahead, women tending goats drawing water from one of the nearby wells.

FLASH Gregg sitting naked on a make-shift throne in his large tent. Half a dozen women clad in nearly transparent white robes lie at his feet, all recovering from intense orgasms.

FLASH The initiate kneeling before him, also in diaphanous white robes, pulls her mouth off his gigantic cock. Gregg is about to bless her with an orgasm as he did the others when she pulls back the robe's cowl. Her deep green eyes lock on his. One of his newest slaves screams from the floor. It was not a scream of pleasure...

Despite their closeness, the thought of Heather becoming his slave made him queasy. It wasn't only his own feelings for her, although that would have been enough. No, there was something in that vision that said making Heather his slave would be a bad idea. Gregg gulped nervously, considering what parts of his afternoon with Laura he wanted to share. "I ... I think we should go in..."

Inside the apartment, preparations for the night's meeting were underway. Rivkah was setting up a folding conference table she snagged from the sports center. Even with a six-foot table, Gregg knew it'd be a tight fit. The painting that normally hung over the couch was removed so there'd be a large white wall to project images from a laptop LCD projector.

A fast woodpecker-like sound followed by a high-pitched yelp of surprise coming from the kitchen could only mean one thing: E'dan was showing off again. Giving Heather a knowing look, Gregg looked through the breakfast-bar window into the kitchen. E'dan was pressed tightly against Emily's back, pinning her against the countertop. His arms were around her body, holding her hand around the handle of a large chef's knife. The thinly sliced remains of a cucumber were being moved aside while Emily breathed excitedly, examining her and E'dan's hands — amazed that given the speed of his knife-work, they both still had all their fingers.

Emily finally took a shuddering breath, and turned her head around to look into the huge man's weathered face. "Again!"

E'dan smiled down at the impossibly cute girl and shifted his hips a little, settling his hardening cock between her jean-clad asscheeks. He reached over and grabbed a red onion and started peeling the outer layer in preparation for his next demonstration of skill.

Gregg turned around and gave Rivkah a kiss on the cheek and helped her unfold a paper table cloth. "Emily and your husband seem to be getting along?" Gregg asked with a wink.

Rivkah responded by giving an exasperated roll of her eyes. "Something tells me we're going to have a guest tonight..." Gregg could tell that that particular thought wasn't as unpleasant to Rivkah as she pretended.

The buzzer sounding in the hallway indicated that their first guest had arrived. Rivkah hit the admit button and opened the hallway door a crack. As if reading Gregg's mind, Heather popped her head into the kitchen and put on her best stern-mother voice. "Okay you two, let's see a little light between those bodies. We have company. This is a business meeting, not Nero's palace. You'll have plenty of time for ... that ... later."

A simultaneous "Yes Mom," was followed by a series of giggles. Emily and E'dan separated, but not before Emily gave the big man a kiss. Skipping out of the kitchen, she gave Rivkah a kiss on the lips also before vaulting over the arm of the couch and assuming an all-too-innocent pose.

Rivkah cocked one eyebrow at Heather and whispered as the hallway door opened, "Aye, kinderle! Honestly, can you believe she starts college next week?"

Heather could. Unlike Rivkah, she'd know Emily longer than three days, but just like Rivkah, she'd loved her from day-one. Em was like a bottomless well of energy, and sometimes her exuberance made it difficult to remember that if she'd gone straight into college rather than traveling abroad to Tunisia with her father for a year, she'd be entering her sophomore year. Besides, Em could act the adult when she wanted to. A flashing memory of their "playing doctor" game sent an excited tremor through her body, it's epicenter between her thighs. Only one person had ever gotten her as excited as Em made her that night ... and he was greeting their first guest.

"Hi Jim, glad you could make it."

"Hey Gregg. Mmmm, something smells good. Decided to bribe me with food before stealing away my best workstudy, huh? Is Charli here yet?"

"No and no. I need both of your help. BesidesIf things go REALLY well, you may just be chairing one of the premier Computer Science programs in the state ... at least in terms of software development. Come on in, can I get you a drink?"

Gregg opened a bottle of red wine while Heather introduced herself and the rest of their guests. Despite the ring on his finger, Jim couldn't help but notice the three beautiful women bustling about, getting things ready. Pulling Gregg aside when he accepted his glass, he whispered, "Jeez Gregg, don't you know any ugly people? I'm feeling a bit like the ugly duckling in the pond full of swans!"

Gregg was about to respond when there was a knock on the door. It opened and a short, squat woman with bulging eyes like a toad peeked her head in. "Hello?"

Jim leaned in again and whispered, "Never mind." Gregg thought it a bit harsh of a joke, but Jim immediately went to the door and gave the woman a kiss on the cheek. "Sarah, good to see you. How have you been?"

Sarah looked up at Jim and slapped him on the back. "Oh, Jim, I love it when we get together. It's always comforting to have someone uglier than me in the room!"

Sarah looked around at the astonished people in the room. "Oh, I hope you don't mind, but this nice young man let me in the door. He had a key." Chad snuck past the people crowding the entryway and made his rounds saying hello.

After giving Chad a kiss on the cheek, Heather took Sarah's coat. "So, apparently you two know each other. My name's Heather, by the way. Gregg hasn't told me what my role is yet, so for now, I guess I'm the greeter. That's Emily on the couch. She's a nursing student starting at Loyola this week, so maybe she's here to provide first aid! You obviously know Gregg, and those are our hosts, Rivkah and E'dan."

The bug-eyed woman smiled, taking in Heather's statuesque beauty, before turning back to Jim. "Now I'm REALLY glad there's someone uglier than me!"

Sarah could tell Heather was confused by her harsh tone, but it was Jim who spoke first, putting his arm around Sarah's shoulders. "It's okay. Sarah and I were new faculty hires the same year. We went through orientation together and our families have been quite close ever since. Believe me, the ribbing you just saw is pretty tame."

Sarah looked at the hand casually draped over her shoulder. "Careful stud, I'm a married woman." Jim started laughing and Sarah poked him none-too-gently in the ribs. Turning once again to Heather, Sarah leaned in to say softly, "Gregg speaks very highly of you. Says you were his best student in Tunisia last semester. I hope you'll afford me the same work ethic."

Heather just looked at the woman dumbly. "You have no idea who I am, do you? I'm Sarah Whyte ... PROFESSOR Sarah Whyte. I chair the Business program. Gregg tells me that's the major you're switching to."

Heather smiled and glanced up at Gregg, but he was busy pouring glasses of wine. "Well then, it's a pleasure Professor Whyte. Come on in and let me get you a glass of wine. I hope we'll find some time to talk about the department."

Appetizers were served and everyone mingled. Gregg checked his watch, wondering where his final guest was when the buzzer sounded. Opening the intercom, a breathless, "It's Cheryl ... Charli," piped up, and Gregg buzzed her in. He could tell something was wrong just by the tone in her voice.

Stomping up the stairs, a disgruntled looking Charli perked up somewhat seeing Gregg standing in the doorway. She wore her usual attire with the addition of a button-down man's black dress shirt covering the black print tee beneath. "What's with the long face?"

"Some fucking fraternity sport-jock assholes decided to shaving-cream our dorm. When I stepped out into the hallway, I slipped in a big pile of it. Lots of laughs, ha ha! I had to go back in and change. That's why I'm late. I'm just glad I landed on my butt and not my computer!" She took a calming breath and saw the room full of people looking in their direction. Blushing, she realized she's spoken loud enough for everybody to hear. "Sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay. I'll get you a glass of wine. Come on in and relax. I hope you're hungry." Charli's heart skipped a beat with Gregg's offer of wine. He was treating her just like any other adult.

Charli's joy plummeted when she entered the living room. Standing up and approaching her to greet her was an uncomfortably familiar face. It was the redhead from the Athenian, where she and Gregg had eaten lunch earlier that day. Heather stepped up and gave her a thousand-dollar smile which Charli nervously returned. "Hi, I'm Heather. You must be Charli. Gregg's told me a lot about you, but we haven't formally met."

Bounding up behind Heather, the other "hottie" from lunch thrust out her hand in greeting which Charli weakly shook. "And I'm Emily, but you can call me 'Em.'" The pony-tailed nymph leaned in close and whispered into her ear, "I'm sorry about lunch. It was my idea. I just wanted to give Gregg some grief. I hope you're not upset. He's a great guy, but too serious sometimes." As much as Charli wished she could stay mad, Emily's innocent eyes held no malice, and she couldn't help but forgive her.

Heather put her arm around Charli's shoulder and led her into the room. Charli couldn't help feeling uneasy standing so close to the model of perfection beside her. She wasn't into girls, but the redhead's large breast touching her arm sent little chills through her body. A conversation she had shortly after meeting her roommate, Chen Du, flashed into her mind. They were playing a game of "What if" and Chen asked "What if you had to kiss a girl?" Charli responded that the only one who'd make her cross THAT particular line was Xena, Warrior Princess. Not the actress who played her, Lucy Lawless, but the fictional ass-kicking leather-clad fighting machine character come to life. So what if she didn't really exist. 'Maybe I need to reconsider my list... '

Pointing to the corner of the table, "Obviously, you know your boss, Jim. Next to him is Professor Sarah Whyte, Chair of the Business department."

Jim smiled at Charli, "Hey Charli. Whatever you do, don't play monopoly with Sarah here ... you're guaranteed to lose." To Charli's surprise, the toady professor smiled before punching her boss in the arm. Not quite the behavior she expected from two tenured faculty. Like most new college students, she was still not used to the idea that college faculty were actually people. Her conversations with Gregg were a constant reminder of that.

Heather continued, "On the other side of the table is-"

Chad stood and shook her hand. "-A fucking fraternity sport-jock asshole." Charli paled, no easy feat given how white her skin already was. "Just kidding. I'm Chad, Gregg's assistant. Fraternity? Yes. Jock? Yes. Asshole? Hopefully not. Fucking ... well geez lady, we just met!" Charli's white skin turned crimson at his risqué joke. Flashing his most charming grin and putting his hand over his heart, "And I swear I had nothing to do with whatever delayed you." Chad withheld that he begged off participating in the prank only because he had to prepare for tonight's meeting... "Anyway, Gregg tells me you and I might share some music interests. We'll have to chat after business."

Charli was completely disarmed by Gregg's handsome assistant. Still, she sincerely doubted she shared ANY interests with a cookie-cutter, albeit charming, frat boy.

Heather rolled her eyes and shooed Chad back to his seat. "Yep, the old Chad is back. Pay no attention to him. I had to live with his 'humor' for almost four months!" Heather emphasized "humor" with air-quotes. "But don't worry, he's really quite harmless. He even reads! Books, no less ... without pictures!" Chad licked a finger and drew an imaginary "1" in the air, indicating that this round went to Heather.

Rivkah broke up the impromptu battle of wits by stepping out from behind the table and kissing Charli on the cheek. "I'm Rivkah. Welcome to my home. That wall standing behind you is my husband E'dan." Charli turned her head and yelped in surprise. Indeed, E'dan's massive muscular body filled the hallway behind her. She never heard him approach so his sudden appearance behind her caught her off guard. He smiled and shook her hand. Despite his massive build, Charli could see a softness in his eyes that belied his scary physique.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Charli. You'll have to forgive me, but I have dinner to attend to. Please make yourself comfortable. As you can hopefully see, we don't stand on formality around here. I hope you brought your appetite!"

Charli put her bag and laptop down in the hallway and decided to sit with Jim and Sarah, in part because she already knew Jim, but also because they were the only two that didn't make her feel so ugly in this sea of beautiful people.

Dinner was served with flourish. Despite Gregg's warning to E'dan not to go overboard, the meal served was a feast. Everyone ate more than their fill ... except for Charli, that is. She couldn't help but feel self-conscious eating at the same table with the slender Emily, the incredibly fit Rivkah, and the gorgeous Heather. She was also feeling a little left out of the loop. This afternoon she felt closer than ever to Gregg, but that was one-on-one. Now as she watched everyone interact, it seemed like the crowd was very close and friendly. Professor Whyte and Jim were the exception, although those two seemed to have their own strange friendship (which involved mostly trading insults). Watching people show their affections with casual (and not-so-casual) touches of hands on arms, friendly kisses, sly comments, wink, and even overt ogling, was like watching a soap opera live: everyone was too perfect, too friendly, and she was the lone outsider.

As the meal wound down, Charli excused herself to get some water from the kitchen. E'dan had a hurt look on his face when he saw her mostly untouched plate. He was going to follow and ask what was wrong with his cooking, but Heather patted him on the shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. "Let me talk to her," she whispered in his ear. "Your dinner was marvelous, and I don't think her lack of appetite has anything to do with your culinary offerings." E'dan instantly felt better, but was still confused.

Rivkah, who'd been silently watching everything, just leaned over and patted his arm like she would a child and said, "It's okay honey. It's a female thing." She looked out the corner of her eye at Gregg, but he was completely unaware of all the drama directly under her nose. Rivkah rolled her eyes and again patted her husband affectionately, whispering under her breath, "Men!"

Heather rounded the corner and peered into the kitchen. Charli was leaning against the counter holding a glass and peering into its empty depths as if some hidden truth would be revealed by the refracted image of her feet.

"Stage fright?" Heather asked.

Charli jumped in surprise, being lost in her own dark thoughts. "Wha? Um. Yeah. Stage fright ... sure. I've never been at a dinner quite like this one. Gre- ... Dr. Walters seems so ... friendly ... with everyone."

"Gregg, honey. I'm sure he's told you that you can call him Gregg, and this is hardly a black-tie affair. And yes, we're all ... pretty close here." Charli could tell that Heather was being careful with her words, and that just fueled her curiosity ... as well as her jealousy. It's never fun when one's crush catches up with reality. She leaned back against the counter, returning to her examination of the empty glass, turning it slowly in her hands.

Heather leaned against the counter opposite Charli, and crossed her arms under her chest, waiting for the girl to look up again. When Charli finally managed to gear up enough courage to make eye-contact, even briefly, Heather used it as her opening. "Why don't you tell me what's really on your mind. I don't believe it has anything with E'dan's cooking."

Charli instantly felt bad. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt the big man's feelings. She suddenly felt trapped, like the kitchen was shrinking around her and the perfect Heather with her perfect boobs and her perfect smile were closing in on her. She wanting nothing more than to escape this bizarre dinner and pick up where she left off with Gregg this afternoon — before Heather or Emily or Rivkah entered the picture. But she felt trapped by her friendship with Gregg — she couldn't just leave him. She'd never be able to face him again if she acted so childishly ... and that would be more than she could bear. Also, as much as she wanted to hate the beautiful woman across from her, Heather's soft, warm smile made that impossible.

"Dr- ... Gregg's your boyfriend ... isn't he?" she finally managed to squeak out forlornly.

Heather smiled. Her guess was correct. "Yes. Yes, you could say that." Again, Heather chose her words carefully, not figuring that Charli was ready to hear the whole truth.

Charli's gaze through the glass became even more intense. "I ... I feel like such an idiot."

"Why's that honey?"

Heather's use of affectionate terms was unsettling. "I guess part of me thought ... that ... oh, I don't know. Just a silly little-girl crush, I guess. I'm surprised he even noticed me with you in his life. Or even Emily for that matter."

Heather approached Charli and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, causing her to finally look up. Heather's amazing green eyes seemed to peer right into her soul and she found that she couldn't look away. It was unnerving being held prisoner by the woman who held the heart of the man of your dreams.

"Charli, you couldn't be more wrong. I'm the one who should be jealous."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"No, seriously. Every time you and Gregg have lunch, he comes home in a happy mood. He tells me all about your debates, practically word for word. (Keep working on him. He'll eventually embrace deep-dish.) You probably didn't know this, but just about everyone Gregg considers a friend is in that room right now, and he only met Jim and Professor Whyte today for the first time. So, you are one of a very small and very select group."

Charli's eyes dropped again, this time out of shame. How could she give Gregg so little credit?

Heather's finger lifted her face back up. The backs of her fingers caressed her cheek as if brushing away an imaginary tear. Delicately, Heather moved Charli's long black hair out of her face and back behind her ears. Charli shivered as Heather's fingers traced along her skin. She felt an overwhelming desire to kiss the redhead's hands, to weep in thanks for such a small but needed affectionate touch ... one never received from her mother since the day her father died.

"You really are quite beautiful, Charli."

Charli started to shake her head no, but Heather's palm on her cheek made sure she was looking into her eyes. "I'm serious. You have this amazing mane of thick black hair. You have near perfect alabaster skin. You have such deep brown eyes, and full lips." Heather's gaze trailed lower briefly. "And I'll bet your choice of clothing doesn't do your figure justice.

Heather turned her head at the sounds of plates being cleared coming from the living room table. Charli didn't seem to notice. A tear rolled down her cheek. Heather wiped away the tear (a real tear this time) with her thumb, keeping her hand still pressed gently to the side of the girl's face. "Why don't you come back and enjoy E'dan's amazing cooking. I'll even help myself to thirds so you're not eating alone. Okay?"

Charli nodded, relieved that Heather turned out to be so understanding. She didn't know how she'd react if some girl basically admitted she had a crush on HER boyfriend ... if she ever had a boyfriend.

Before she released Charli, Heather's thumb grazed past Charli's dry lips. The next thing Charli knew, the voluptuous redhead leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips. It wasn't a sexual act, and yet her knees grew weak at the delicate touch. It was only a second, and yet, it could have been an eternity. Charli blinked her eyes and, to her astonishment, Heather was already halfway across the room.

"Ready to face the crowd?"

Charli could only gulp and numbly nod her head.

Heather grabbed her by the hand and led her back in, snagging her plate back from Rivkah's hand. "We're not done with those."

Gregg looked questioningly at Heather, but she only mouthed silently, "Later." E'dan's face lit up as he watched Charli retake her seat and start digging into the food she'd left behind. She really was hungry, and after Heather's talk, she didn't feel so sorry for herself. Even as she ate, Charli wasn't sure if the tingling in her lips was from the spicy curried potatoes or the lingering effects of Heather's kiss.

With all but two plates cleared away (Rivkah putting more food onto Charli's plate, even before being asked. E'dan made a sly comment about Rivkah skipping motherhood and already being a Jewish grandmother ... His joke was a whisper, but Rivkah appeared a moment later from the kitchen to slap him upside the head!) Gregg began unveiling his plan:

In short, his idea was to turn the land that the dig in Tunisia was on into a for-profit venture that would be lucrative for the land owners and hotel developers and still keep the dig site intact. He got the idea from talking with Chad after his return from Israel. The idea was to model the site after several of the archeological digs in Israel that were also tourist traps. Tourists and students from around the world could travel there to experience a real archeological dig without having to travel to a remote site, nor leave the comforts of a first-class hotel. There'd be a small staff to keep the site running, but much of the effort would be done by volunteers ... who actually paid to participate! Because this idea had a somewhat limited appeal, there'd also be a heavy virtual component. The dig would exist in the real world, but an online replica would also be created that would be updated in near real-time. The software would function as both a reference, a virtual experience for academic programs and intro-level courses, and, hopefully, a game that could stand on its own. While it was unrealistic to expect all this to happen in the few short weeks before school started, Gregg pointed out that they only needed to develop a concrete plan — a plan that, hopefully, would generate private investment while simultaneously saving the dig site.

The group sat in near stunned silence. The first wave of protest came from E'dan who was almost apoplectic about helping Tunisian businessmen make a fortune. Surprisingly, it was Rivkah who argued to her husband that the PLO wasn't there anymore, but old wounds run deep. Furthermore, she argued, how could he turn his back on such an important piece of history? In their time with the Mossad, they fought as much to protect their past as they did to protect their future. E'dan sulked back in grudging acceptance, but at that point didn't contribute much more to the conversation.

Next it was Professor Whyte's turn. She had a laundry list of considerations and reasons why it wouldn't work, all of them logistical. Gregg didn't have answers for many of them, not having a head for business, but he did his best cheerleading and heaped lots of praise on her, sure that she'd be able to address each issue. Sarah turned to Heather and harrumphed, "You better kiss your boyfriend goodbye tonight. With the list of things to do and the short timeframe, I don't think you'll be seeing much of him..."

Once the general outline of the business plan was accepted, marginally at least, it was Jim's turn to raise his points. Constructing a complete virtual environment was time consuming and very laborious ... perhaps as much as actual brick-and-mortar construction! The scale of Gregg's idea was huge, far more than two people could do in just three weeks. Gregg argued that in three weeks, they only needed an outline of an outline, with just enough demonstrable material to wow the backers. If everything worked, then Jim's department would be receiving a pretty generous injection of funds to build and maintain the site and software.

Sarah interjected a way to build a spin-off company that was tied into the university. The college's lawyers would probably have to put in overtime, but it wasn't unheard of for products developed in academic settings to be the foundation for private/academic profit-sharing. Anyone ever hear of Gatorade? Developed at the University of Florida. The dollar signs covering his eyes stalled the remainder of his arguments.

"So, E'dan, Rivkah? I'm hoping you'll stay on and serve as consultants. You both know a lot about the geographical area and have experience we'll desperately need. Afterall, we're not looking to build a lemonade stand here." Rivkah nodded warmly, but E'dan just sat silently. Finally, Rivkah punched him in the arm.

Glaring angrily at his wife, he turned back to Gregg and said, "Yes, yes ... Of course. We'll help in anyway we can. You know that. I'm just old and set in my ways ... please forgive me." E'dan refrained from mentioning that the last time he was in Tunisia, it was under cover of darkness, he toted a sniper rifle, and he wasn't there to sightsee.

"E'dan, my friend, there's nothing to forgive. I understand your misgivings. That's why I'm counting on you to tell us before we tread across any political landmines." Gregg instantly wished he used a better metaphor, but E'dan seemed to understand.