They hugged and kissed next to the Mustang, then achingly parted company. Cody drove away with a last minute surprise sitting on the seat next to him; one of Becky’s pies, freshly baked that morning. As he turned on to the main highway he switched on the radio, tuning it to a country station. If his woman was going to be a country singer, he wanted to hear what was considered the latest and the greatest. Driving down the highway, top down, Becky’s pie sitting next to him, he couldn’t remember ever feeling so elated.
Though she wasn’t quite as innocent he had initially thought, he was beginning to see it as a blessing. She possessed a worldliness she’d kept hidden, and zipping down the highway towards the airport, he felt optimistic and excited about his future.
Back at the Turner home, Becky had cleaned up the breakfast dishes, tidied up the kitchen, and was about to leave for the diner, when she decided to take one last look around the bus, wanting to relive her precious moments with Cody. Grabbing her phone and stuffing it the back pocket of her jeans, she headed out the back door.
Marching across the field, she made a quick stop to give her horses their morning carrots, then marched forward to the large, gleaming white vehicle under the trees. As she neared, she saw the keys sitting on top of the tire just as Cody had said. Picking them up she pushed the unlock button, the doors swung open, and she moved inside. The luxury still took her breath away, and walking to the back, she pushed open the bedroom door to find the mussed sheets of the slept-in bed. Sighing, she sat down and closed her eyes.
“Did you sleep with the bastard?”
Becky’s wide blue eyes flew open; Roy was looming over her.
“What the hell are you doing here,” she demanded, jumping to her feet.
“Answer me, did you sleep with him?”
“No, not that it’s any of your business,” she snapped.
He didn’t look good. His hair was tousled, his clothes were wrinkled, he’d not shaven in a couple of days, and she could detect the faint smell of booze.
“Dammit girl, I just want some time to talk to you. Can’t you give me that?”
“Fine, you’re here, talk,” she quipped.
“NO!” he barked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Let’s go up to the cabin. It’s quiet there, and peaceful.”
“Not only do I not want to, I can’t. Dad is expecting me at the diner,” she declared, and striding forward, pushed past him and down the aisle.
Roy marched after her, convinced all he had to do was get her to the cabin, the place where they had made so many memories, where they had watched the moon reflect on the lake, where they had drunk cheap wine and had glorious sex. He was sure she would come around if they could just spend some time there.
“Becky, dammit Becky, wait up,” he called.
She was out of the bus and heading for the house. Roy broke into a run, catching up in just a few seconds.
“Let go of me,” she yelled as he grabbed her elbow. “Right now.”
“No! You’re comin’ to the cabin and we’re gonna talk,” he bellowed, and as he yelled, the strong smell of alcohol tickled her nostrils.
“Roy, you’re still drinking! Are you crazy? Isn’t it bad enough you wrapped your truck around that tree?” she demanded.
“I didn’t wrap no truck around no tree,” he replied angrily. “That whole thing was nothin’ but a setup.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me go!”
She tried to wrench her arm away, but his grip was too strong, and seizing her around the waist he lifted her off the ground.
“I’m takin’ you to that cabin, dagnabbit, and we’re gonna talk.”
He had parked his rental car by the trees near the bus, and though Becky yelled and kicked, she hung from his side like a rag doll. By the time they reached the vehicle she was exhausted.
“I’m puttin‘ you in this car, and if you try to run, I swear, Becky, I’ll put you in the damn trunk,” he warned.
In all the years she’d known Roy, he’d never bullied her or raised his voice; this man was a stranger.
“All right, fine, we’ll go to the cabin,” she agreed.
If I just play along, he’ll calm down. He has to. I just need to breathe, just let him think everything’s okay.
Still holding her, he opened the passenger door and bundled her inside, then ran to the driver’s seat, and starting the engine, peeled dirt as he raced from the field.
In Becky’s Diner, as David prepared the foodstuffs for lunch, he realized he’d left his baggie of freshly picked herbs on the kitchen counter. Picking up the phone, he called Becky’s cell, hoping to catch her before she left.
The sharp ringing pierced the tense atmosphere inside Roy’s speeding car. Startled, Becky pulled the phone from her pocket, and looking down, saw it was her father.
“Shit!” Roy barked, and before she had a chance to accept the call, Roy snatched it from her hand.
“I’ll just turn it off. Please, Roy!”
Ignoring her, he slowed the car, lowering his window.
“No! Don’t throw it away” she pleaded, “it’s got important numbers in it.”
“Problem solved,” he exclaimed, and hurled it, still ringing, into the brush that ran alongside the road.
God, why didn’t I tell dad about the note? Just stay calm. Everything will be okay. Breathe, relax. When I don’t show up, he’ll come looking for me.
Roy’s foot pressed on the accelerator, gunning the car forward, and moments later, the tires squealed loudly as he burned around a sharp turn. Becky gripped the seatbelt, unbuckled and still hanging, and closing her eyes, prayed for help.
Getting no response from Becky’s cell phone, David tried the house line, but that too went unanswered. It was odd, but he decided she was probably involved in a long goodbye with her new love, and went back about his business.
When the diner phone rang just moments later, he assumed she was returning his call, but to his dismay it was Sheriff Hollister’s voice on the end of the line, not Becky’s.
“Hey, Sheriff. Everything all right?”
“Yep. Just thought you should know that Roy was released early this morning. He wasn’t very happy.”
“I don’t understand. Wasn’t he arrested on a DUI and had an accident? Isn’t that enough to hold him?”
“We had a light docket this morning, and he was first on it. Ten minutes after eight he posted bail, and that was that.”
David began to feel an odd sensation creep up his spine, and he broke into a cold sweat; something was wrong.
“Sheriff, could you please run by my house? I can’t reach Becky and I’m worried.”
“Sure. I’m just around the block. Didn’t she go to the diner with you?” he asked, knowing their routine.
“Not this morning. We had company over the weekend, and she stayed to see him off.”
“I see. I’m just turning down your block…hang on…approaching your house…her car is still in the driveway. I’ll go knock on the door.”
David’s heart was hammering in his chest, listening to the Sheriff’s continuing narrative.
“Walking up the pathway…at the front door.”
He knocked loudly, called her name, and heard nothing but silence.
“Got a key hidden anywhere, Dave? Think I should check inside.”
“Yes, under the pig by the fountain,” David replied, his pulse gathering speed. “Should I come home?”
“No. She might show up there. Maybe her car didn’t start and she’s walked.”
“She’s not picking up her cell,” David said hastily, “and if that had been the case, she would have called me to come and get her.”
“Okay, I’ve found the key…going back…opening up…BECKY?”
The Sheriff walked cautiously through the quiet house, and reaching the kitchen, found the back door unlocked.
“That’s not like her,” Dave remarked. “We always lock up the house. Sheriff, I’m getting really worried.”
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” the Sheriff replied, doing his best to sound calm; he didn’t like the way things were looking either.
“I just had a thought,” Dave declared. “Maybe she’s gone with, uh, our visitor to see him off at the airfield. She should have called me, but it’s possible. I’ll call him and get right back to you.”
“You do that, and I’ll check that bus parked across the field. Maybe she’s there and doesn’t have her phone with her.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.”
Cody was halfway to the small airport when his personal phone rang. Without taking his eyes from the road, he answered the call, thinking it was Becky wanting to say another goodbye.
“Cody, it’s Dave Turner. Is Becky with you?”
“Becky? No, we said goodbye at the house,” Cody replied, startled to hear David Turner’s voice. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“She hasn’t shown up at the diner yet, she’s not home, and her car is still at the house. I’m really worried.”
The note. Roy. Dammit she must have gone to meet him, but she promised…
“Did you just say her car is still at the house?” Cody asked, wanting to make sure he’d heard correctly.
“Yes, but she’s not home and she’s not answering her phone.”
Cody’s grip tightened around the steering wheel.
He’s taken her.
The realization grabbed him, and he came to a quick halt on the side of the road.
“David, where is the lake?”
“The lake? It depends. There’s a back way past Jeb’s garage and the Cowbell, or you can take Bute Road off the main highway. You would have passed it on the way to the airport. Why?”
“Becky told me she and Roy used to spend time at a cabin there.”
“What are you talking about? Becky and Roy haven’t been dating since high school,” David declared.
“It’s too complicated to explain, but I think that’s where she is. I remember seeing the turnoff, it’s just five minutes behind me. I’m going back there. I’ll call you when I arrive,” he promised.
“I’m calling the Sheriff right now,” David said quickly.
Punching the accelerator, Cody did a U-turn and sped off, then reached for his regular cell phone and called Sam.
“Hey, Cash, you on the plane?”
“Don’t shoot me but I’ve got a situation here,” Cash declared, speeding down the highway.
“What do you mean, a situation?” Sam asked slowly, not liking what he knew he was hearing.
“Can’t explain, but it’s an emergency. I’ll be at the airport when I can, probably an hour. Call you soon. Gotta go.”
“Cash! What is-”
Though he heard Sam’s voice, he turned off his phone, needing to focus on this driving, and in just a few minutes he spied the signpost reading Bute Road. Slowing down, he turned from the highway on to a bumpy, gravel lane, unaware he was only a couple of minutes behind Roy. As the road bent around, Cody saw another gravel lane to his right, and the settling of a dust cloud up ahead.
That must be the back way Dave was talking about, he realized, Roy must have just arrived.
Roy had sped down the unsealed road, kicking up the dirt, and in the warm, still air, the last of the dust was still visible.
Quickly Cody calculated the time. He had been driving the speed limit, and if Roy had snatched Becky shortly after he’d left her, taking the shorter route past Jeb’s garage, it would make sense Roy would have beaten him, but just barely.
Slowing the car, he moved cautiously forward past the trees and brush, seeing a clearing ahead, and decided to stop the car and walk, not wanting to alarm Roy if he was close by.
Switching off the engine, he grabbed his personal phone, and left the keys in case the sheriff needed to move it. Jogging to the clearing, he saw the lake come into view. There were picnic tables, small row boats pulled up on the sand, and an area that was obviously used for parking. On the far side was a lone car, and from what he could see it was empty. He pulled his phone from his pocket and called David.
“What have you found?” Becky’s father asked anxiously.
“I’m in the picnic grounds, and there’s a car parked on the far side. It’s a grey sedan, a Ford I think. It’s empty.”
“I know exactly where that is, and there are three or four cabins just a little way in. Just walk past the car, and they shouldn’t be more that a hundred yards ahead. Cody, be careful,” David warned. “Roy’s a big guy.”
“You know what they say, the bigger they are,” Cody chuckled.
“Are you serious?” David asked, incredulous at Cody’s calm confidence.
“Believe me, if anyone has to be careful it’s Roy,” he assured him.
“If you say so, good luck. The Sheriff will be there soon, and I’m leaving now.”
Cody clicked off the line, muted the sounds, and headed forward, hugging the trees that lined the parking area. As he approached the car he peered in the windows, but saw nothing that gave him any idea if Becky had been inside.
Entering the woods he walked slowly, listening intently, and a short distance in, he spied the first cabin. He stopped, and hearing nothing crept to the window. Peering inside he saw it was deserted, and turned back to the trail. The second cabin netted the same result, but as he approached the third, he heard voices.
He had found them.
Stealthily moving to the window, he pressed his back against the wall and slowly glanced inside. Becky was perched on the edge of narrow cot, her head buried in her hands, and Roy was in the process of pulling his gray T-shirt over his head. Grabbing his phone he hastily texted David.
Found them. Third cabin. Becky’s fine. Going in.
“You have to remember what we had,” he heard Roy exclaim, throwing his shirt to the floor. “Dammit, Becky, you’re the one who wanted to get married, and you were right.”
“NO!” she wailed, jumping to her feet, “I wasn’t. Roy, I don’t love you. I don’t want to be with you.”
His arm shot out, hitting her chest, and she fell back on to the tiny bed.
“You just have to be reminded,” he declared, unzipping his pants.
“I DON’T WANT YOU!” she shrieked. “WHAT IS IT ABOUT THAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND?”
Cody’s eyes scanned the room. There was too much furniture and not enough space. He had to draw Roy outside.
Picking up a small rock, he moved quickly and quietly to the front door and knocked loudly, then ducked out of sight around the side of the cabin. A moment later he heard the door open, and stepping back, hurled the rock over the roof. It landed with a loud crack on the opposite side, and predictably, Roy lumbered towards it.
“Who’s there?” he called.
Inside the cabin, shaking and terrified, Becky ran to the window. Roy was lumbering around, seeking the source of the sound, then an unexpected flash caught her eye. It was Cody. He was running, and to her utter and complete astonishment, he literally launched into the air, legs and arms parallel to the ground. She watched, dumbfounded, as Cody’s feet landed on Roy’s back, instantly dropping him to the ground.
Kneeling over him, Cody checked to make sure he was immobile, then dashed to the front of the cabin, and bursting through the door, grabbed the ugly grey T-shirt laying on the floor.
“You okay?” he asked quickly, staring at the astonished Becky still standing at the window.
“Yes, my God, that was-”
“Back in a tick,” he promised.
Running back to Roy, he found him attempting to get up, and in a flash Cody had his knee in the man’s back.
“Sorry, you need to stay put,” Cody exclaimed.
Cody ripped the shirt in half, and pulling Roy’s arms behind his back, deftly tied his wrists, then quickly moved to his ankles. In seconds Roy was completely incapacitated.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Cody remarked sarcastically, and hurried back to Becky.
“How did you know where to find me?” she sobbed, running across to him and falling into his arms.
“You told me about this cabin last night. I was almost asleep, but I remembered, and it made sense. Tell me what happened?”
“I was so scared,” she sniffled. “I was in the bus, and he came out of nowhere, and he grabbed me and stuffed me into his car, and said if I tried to run he’d put me in the trunk.”
“It’s okay. He’s all tied up. It’s over. The Sheriff will be here any minute, and your dad too.”
“God, what a mess,” she moaned.
“Let’s sit down,” he offered gently, leading her to the small cot. “I think it’s time you told me what’s been going on.”
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s Roy’s fault, but tell me everything.”
“I don’t know where to start,” she moaned.
“At the beginning,” Cody suggested.
“The beginning. Okay, I was seeing Roy in high school, but he went off to agricultural college. When he came back I started seeing him again, but Dad never liked him, said he was trouble, so I kept it a secret. We’d sneak up here to this cabin, and, oh lord, this is where things get complicated.”
“Already sounds complicated,” Cody replied.
“About six months ago I wanted to get married. To be honest, I don’t even know why. It just seemed like it was time, and I was tired of all the hiding, but he said he wasn’t ready so I broke up with him. The thing is, I didn’t miss him at all, and I realized it was just a notion I’d gotten in my head. My friends were getting married, and I guess I just felt like it was time for me too.”
“But he missed you like crazy, and showed up at your house supposedly out of the blue, with a ring,” Cody finished.
“Yes, but Cody, the worst of it isn’t Roy. It’s me. Oh God, this is so hard,” she moaned.
“Come on, you’ve made it this far, and I think I hear sirens. We don’t have much time.”
“For years and years I’ve had to put on this act, like I’m this goody two shoes, and I’m not,” she blurted out. “That’s who you fell for, some sweet, innocent girl who would never do anything wrong. That’s who you met, who you think I am, but it was all an act. I’ve been having sex since I was sixteen years old. I’ve been sleeping with that big hulk out there for two years! Dad loves me so much because he thinks I’m so good and so perfect, but I’m not, and it’s just a big mess, and if you don’t want to see me again I totally get it. I’m just a big fake, a phony,” she sobbed, dropping her head back in her hands.
Cody could hear the sirens growing closer, and grabbed her hands, pulling them away from her face.
“Listen to me very carefully,” he said sternly. “Look at me and listen.”
“I’m totally humiliated already,” she sobbed, “I don’t need to look at you and make it worse. My whole life is one big lie.”
“Becky” he said quickly, hearing the sirens cut off and knowing the police were now in the parking lot, “you may not be a saint, but you are still an angel to me. You love your father and didn’t want to disappoint him. You are his world, and while that’s a blessing, it’s also a burden.”
Lifting her red-rimmed, blue eyes, she sighed heavily.
“It does feel like a burden sometimes,” she ruefully admitted. “I think, one of the reasons I brought up getting married to Roy, was because it was a way out of the house. Stupid, I know, but I’m afraid to leave him. I’m afraid he’ll be so sad and lonely if I ever do.”
“Or maybe,” Cody offered, interrupting her, “leaving home will free him up to find his own happiness again.”
She stared at him.
“Wait…I never thought…Auntie Joan. She’s been our best friend forever,” she remarked, as if thinking out loud. “Do you think he’s been seeing her? Do you think he’s been waiting for me to leave the house and go out on my own? But that would be crazy. I love Auntie Joan. I would be thrilled if they got together and lived there.”
“He doesn’t know that, and would he take that chance?”
“He might not,” she replied thoughtfully.
“Perhaps the two of you have both been keeping secrets.”
“Maybe, but he still would have had a fit if he’d known I was seeing Roy,” she stated.
“And it seems he would have been right,” Cody declared firmly.
“Yes, he would have been right,” she agreed.
He could hear approaching footsteps, and squeezed her hands.
“Are we all set now? No more confessions? Do you believe that I’m still crazy about you, even if you are a loose woman?” he grinned. “You know I’ve definitely been a loose man.”
“I’ll just bet you have,” she grinned back. “Wow. I feel so, so, free.”
“I’m sure, and the first opportunity I have I will definitely spank you for all of this.”
“For all what? You said I did what I did out of love.”
“True, but you still need to be spanked,” he stated.
“I think you’re right,” she confessed, dropping her eyes. “I just don’t know why.”
The footsteps were right outside the cabin, and leaning in he whispered,
“Because you’ve been feeling guilty for so long. A good spanking will help you.”
Before she had a chance to answer, the Sheriff marched into the cabin.
“What have we got here? You look like you’re in good hands there, Becky. Where’s Roy?”
“Cody here saved me. You should have seen him.”
“Hi, Sheriff, Cody Cox,” Cody announced, standing up and offering his hand. “Roy’s tied up around the side, just under that window.”
“Nice to meet you,” the Sheriff replied, shaking Cody’s hand firmly. “Land sakes, you’re a regular hero.”
“It was nothing really.”
“You should have seen him,” Becky repeated. “He was just like Bruce Lee.”
“Your dad will be here any minute. I’ll go get my boys and put Roy into the cruiser, then I’ll need a statement. You okay to do that, Becky? Did Roy hurt you?”
“Besides terrifying me, no, I’m fine. You’re right, Sheriff, Cody is a hero.”
The Sheriff paused, staring at him, and Cody immediately thought he’d been recognized.
“You’re a little guy next to that big lummox out there. How did you get the better of him?”
Cody smiled and sighed heavily. The man didn’t know who he was. He was staring because he couldn’t imagine someone his size taking down a large guy like Roy.
“Martial arts,” he replied simply.
“That would explain it,” the Sheriff declared. “I’ll see you back at the station, Becky.”
The Sheriff strode away, and Cody sat back down and put his arm around her shoulder.
“I have an idea,” he began. “I’m going to book an extra room for your Auntie Joan.”
“Cody, that’s a wonderful suggestion,” she smiled. “Thank you.”
“I’m not finished yet,” he said firmly. “Before your father gets here and I have to leave, I’m going to give you two edicts.”
Becky felt a flurry of butterflies, and Roy, and the frightening ordeal, abruptly receded from the forefront of her mind.
“Number one, after the concert in Dallas, I want you to spend the night with me. If you don’t want to that’s okay, but I have to know by Friday,” he said firmly, thinking about his need for sex immediately after a show. “You’re a sexy, gorgeous woman, and I think it’s time you started being yourself.”
“I don’t have to let you know. Yes, definitely, of course I want to stay with you. I’ll make it happen,” she breathed, anticipation whistling down her spine.
They could hear the sounds of Roy being pulled to his feet and led away, and then the Sheriff’s voice welcoming her father.
“That’s great to hear,” he said happily. “Number two, after the show, when I return to my ranch, you’re coming with me for at least a week. Got it?”
“Uh-huh, got it,” she smiled, then taking a deep breath, added, “Jeez, it’s going to be an interesting conversation with my dad.”
“You tell him whatever you want, but the truth is usually a good place to start.”
“Becky!” David Turner exclaimed, standing in the door frame of the cabin.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Cody proclaimed, getting to his feet. “I’m so late. There are at least two people who are going to have my head.”
“Are you all right?” David asked, a deep frown crossing his worried brow as he raced across to her.
“Yes, but I wouldn’t have been. Cody absolutely saved me.”
“Cody, what can I say?” David declared, turning to face him, and filled with relief and emotion, wrapped his arms around Cody’s shoulders and hugged him.
“I’m just very glad I was able to figure it out and get here,” Cody replied, feeling a little uncomfortable in the portly man’s crushing embrace, “and I really do have to go,” Cody continued, breaking away. “Becky has some good news, at least I hope you think it’s good news. I’ll call you as soon as I land in Dallas,” he promised, winking at her.
“Cody, thank you so much for everything,” she winked back, standing up.
“Take care of yourselves and I’ll see you in a few days,” he finished, heading to the door.
“Bye, Cody,” Becky smiled, sending arrows of love across the small space between them.
Cody walked quickly out of the cabin and headed down the trail to the parking lot. As he neared, he saw the Sheriff loading Roy into the squad car, several of his deputies milling about.
“We need a statement, Mr. Cox,” he declared.
“Can I do it by phone, or some other way? Can I come back? I have a plane waiting.”
“Sure. I’ll get all your contact info from Dave.”
“Appreciate it,” Cody replied, and breaking into a jog, sprinted to his car, pulling out his phone to call Sam.
In his office, Sam was doing his best not to get rattled. He had learned to take things as they came, but not knowing why Cash was delayed, only that it was a crisis, didn’t make it easy to be patient. When his cell phone finally rang, showing Cash’s ID, he took a deep breath and hoped for good news.
“I’ll be at the plane in about fifteen minutes,” Cash declared. “Sorry, Sam, Becky was literally kidnapped. I just found her.”
“You did what? I don’t even know what to say. Sounds like quite the story. Well, thank God you did, and thank God you’re on your way,” Sam replied. “Call me when you land.”
Hanging up the phone, he buzzed his assistant, Helen Anderson, an Ivy League graduate, and his long-suffering right hand, and gave her the good news, instructing her to contact Andrew and bring him up to speed.
Barring a pileup on the LBJ freeway or some other mishap, Cash’s call assured Sam that he would make it to the press conference on time. He admired Cash for rescuing a damsel in distress, but his heroism didn’t mitigate the stress the delay had caused. Sam, however, would forgive Cash just about anything, and shaking his head, he brought his focus back to the matters at hand. Marilyn would soon be arriving, and he needed to finish up some things before she did. Delving into his work, he put everything else out of his mind.
Marilyn was in a cab on the way to his office. She couldn’t imagine what the charismatic manager wanted to discuss with her; it was all very intriguing. He had accused her of being bored, and he was right, but she had no idea what she could do about it, short of posing naked for Playboy, or designing a new handbag, neither of which particularly appealed to her.
Her cab pulled up outside the office building, and as she climbed out and stepped on to the curb, she felt a tingle of excitement. Perhaps he was going to suggest taking off to some exotic island, or flying to Dallas for Cash’s last concert, which was something she was planning to do anyway, though she’d left the arrangements to the last minute.
Marching through the marble lobby, she caught the elevator up to his floor, and stepping out, presented herself to the receptionist who told her to take a seat. She was impressed by the hustle and bustle, and even more impressed when she realized Sam’s company occupied the entire floor.
A tall, elegant, middle-aged woman appeared, introduced herself as Helen Ryder, Sam’s personal assistant, and led her down the same hallway Marilyn had walked the night before. She’d been so busy flirting she hadn’t noticed the celebrity portraits gracing the walls.
“Are these all Sam’s clients?” she asked.
“Past and present,” the woman replied.
“Wow, I had no idea,” Marilyn whistled.
They had reached Sam’s office door, and Helen opened it with a flourish.
“Miss Sanders to see you, Mr. Reed.”
Marilyn walked past her and saw Sam sitting behind his desk. He looked bigger than life, oozing confidence in his perfectly tailored tan suit, white shirt and dark olive tie.
“Thank you, Helen. Please close the door after you, and hold my calls.”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied.
Marilyn watched her leave, then turned back to Sam, walking slowly forward, one hand on her hip, the other in an exaggerated pose with her wrist bent.
“Mr. Reed,” she purred, “I believe you were expecting me. Should I lock the door?”
He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.
“If you’re not careful I will be more than happy to spank you again,” he warned. “Please sit down and pay attention.”
“Okay, okay, no need to get your boxers in a twist,” she quipped. “I’m listening.”
“I’m going to get right the point,” he began. “You have no direction and no goals. You wake up every morning having no idea what you should be doing. Is that a fair assessment?”
“I guess,” she replied, shifting in her seat, his blunt description making her uncomfortable.
“It’s a waste. You’re a very bright woman, you’re resourceful and determined, and I suspect you can be relentless when you get an idea in that gorgeous head of yours.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” she smiled, thinking about the men she’d pursued and eventually won.
“You’re also devious and conniving, and certainly manipulative and-”
“Wait a second!” she interrupted. “I don’t appreciate that.”
“It’s not a criticism, it’s a statement of fact. You’re all of those things and you know it.”
Marilyn stared back at him, and though she knew his words to be true, she shook her head.
“I do not,” she snapped emphatically.
“Now you’re lying. You also lack self-discipline, and that is a big no-no,” he continued, unfazed by her denial.
“Why am I here?” she demanded. “It can’t be just because you want to give me your inaccurate analysis of who I am.”
“And you’re tough and a keen strategist,” he finished.
“Sooooo?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because, my dear, I believe I have an answer to your dilemma. Something that will give you direction, some goals, a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Something that will eradicate your boredom and provide you with the opportunity to use all your, shall we say, skills, in a positive way.”
“You do? What could that possibly be?”
“I think, with the right training, you could be a terrific asset to this company. You have everything it takes to be a dynamite manager, but it won’t happen over night, and…you will need to be committed.”
“Holy crap!” she exclaimed. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,” he answered, “but you’d have to follow my rules and do as you’re told. I run a tight ship, and I can’t have a loose cannon on my team.”
“What kind of rules?” she frowned. “I don’t really do rules.”
“I am aware of that,” he sighed, “but if you accept my offer, you’ll have to accept that rules are part of the package.”
“What would I be doing?”
“To start, I’d put you with one of my junior managers and you’d just follow him around, listen and learn,” he answered.
“No!” she said emphatically. “I will not be farmed off on some junior know-it-all. If I’m going to learn the business, then I want to learn it from the best, and that’s you.”
“I don’t think you’d like working with me,” he replied, shaking his head.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m rigid and don’t tolerate mistakes,” he declared sternly, “and you are-”
“I’m what?” she demanded, interrupting him.
“You are unpredictable, impetuous and as I stated earlier, undisciplined,” he replied vehemently.
“Are you saying I’m too much for you?” she smiled, purposely twisting his words.
Sam rose from behind his desk, and slowly walked towards her. When he reached the side of her chair he stopped, crossing his arms.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re attempting to challenge me,” he declared, staring down at her.
Marilyn felt a little shiver, and looking up at his steely, grey eyes, her verve and vigor began to wane.
“Are you? Are you attempting to challenge me?” he pressed. “If that’s the case, I accept your challenge without reservation. You want to work with me? You think you can live by my rules? Be my guest. That means you’ll do what I say, when I say, and if you don’t…”
His voice trailed off as his eyes bored into hers.
“If I don’t, what?” she asked, thinking her voice sounded much too thin.
“That will depend on the circumstances, but you might find yourself counting paperclips for two days.”
“What? Counting paperclips!”
“Or cleaning out my desk, or perhaps working in the mailroom for a week. The punishment will fit the crime.”
He could see the disappointment cloud her eyes.
No, my dear, not a single spanking in sight.
“Just so we’re clear,” he continued, “there will be no sex attached to this relationship. This is professional. Period.”
“Would I travel with you?” she asked, thinking about Cash’s show.
“Only sometimes, and if I left town without you, you’d be working for Helen.”
“But that would be no fun at all,” she declared.
Sam threw back his head and laughed out loud.
“What?” she demanded. “What did I say that’s so amusing?”
“Marilyn, this would be a job. Clock in at 9, or whatever time I tell you to be here, and leave when I tell you to leave.”
She dropped her eyes and studied her hands. Sam moved away and walked to the windows, leaving her to decide her fate. So far the interview had gone exactly as planned.
Telling her she’d be working with a junior had achieved the desired result; she’d demanded she work for him. A few minutes passed, and he grinned when he heard her footsteps clip across the hardwood floor; again the desired result, leaving her so she would have to follow him.
“Are you saying you’ll let me work with you and not some joker down the hall?”
Turning to face her, he couldn’t help but recall her hands on that same window, her yelps and cries, and the delightful image of her bottom turning bright pink under the slaps of his paddle.
“Well?” she pressed tersely.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he replied, again crossing his arms and glaring down at her, “if you drop that attitude immediately, and apologize for being so impatient, I’ll let you work with me for one month, assuming you last that long. At the end of the thirty days I’ll evaluate things. You’ll have one month to prove yourself.”
The butterflies burst to life, and she shifted on her very high, very expensive heels.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” she said softly. “I’ll do better.”
“Apology accepted, and you will do better or you’ll be counting those paperclips, or very possibly, out of a job.”