No Accounting For Chaos Ch. 07byElRoylk©
She sat at her desk thinking about her situation. It had been over a week since the revelation of his device. She didn't know where they stood in their relationship. She surely couldn't go to his house, and she didn't feel comfortable having sex with him at all if they were through.
That he had seen her therapist was heartening; Patti had called to say he'd just left and that she wanted to discuss some things with her. She was seeing her tomorrow, out of cycle. It must be important; Patti assured her from her reading of the situation, Monty was sincerely concerned about her welfare.
But she still couldn't bring herself to even call him. They hadn't spoken in a few days, the longest silence since they first started going out. It scared her a little. She didn't want to lose him, but she couldn't see how to bridge the growing divide.
She was still reeling from the outpouring of memories surrounding her step-mother's insanity towards her, the first time she'd inspected herself, the psychological and physical abuse. She had wanted to talk to Patti about it, but somehow needed to keep it for herself for a little while longer. She had thought hard about how her exhibitionism in college must have stemmed directly from that weeklong torture, but she was frightened by how completely she had forgotten the entire thing.
A text message startled her. It was from him. Join me for a weekend away? I've got a board meeting at Grey's Point. Could be fun...
The message only intensified her internal struggle...Grey's Point. Four star resort at the beach. Weather was going to be fantastic...and then she thought about their situation...Didn't he realize she was struggling? Did he even notice they hadn't talked in days? Did it seem strange to him, that for weeks they'd been fucking like bunnies practically every other night, and now, a week had gone by and nothing? Was he so engrossed in his own shit he didn't think about what might be going on between them?
Along with the upwelling questions, she felt her anger grow. Oh how good it would feel to just call him and let him have it. She picked up the phone and called Carole instead. She hadn't told her anything that had happened in the last week. As the line rang she got up to shut her office door.
"Hey, sweetheart, how's things?" As usual, Carole's jauntiness struck a discordant tone.
"Hi. I needed to talk to you."
"What's up. You sound like shit..." She paused, and then, "Oh shit. You told him."
"Yeah. I told him. But..."
"...did he freak out? Are you okay? Should we meet for lunch?"
"...he didn't freak out, and he's just such a great guy, and yet...Carole...it's just too weird. I can't tell you everything...but...well, it gets really weird...that's all."
"What's going on? Now you have to tell me. Start from the beginning...so how did it come up?"
Marcie wasn't sure how to sanitize the whole experience, given she felt a legal obligation to keep the device a secret, but the whole thing revolved around it; it was in the center of the whole damn mess. She danced around it until Carole pushed her...
"He...he has a camera..."
Carole paused; Marcie could see the gears turning..."Holy. Shit. He...he taped you? Doing it? But...didn't you know? Wow...whoa."
Marcie didn't want to throw him under the bus, but the way Carole was reacting it was as if Monty was the pervert, not her.
"It's not quite like that, Carole. You make him sound like a real creep. I...didn't know...but he told me...it's way more complicated than I can tell you...but the point is, he told me first, and then I told him, and then...well, I'm not really sure what to do now. We haven't seen each other for almost a week, and now...well, now he's invited me to Grey's Point for the weekend...and I'm not sure why I should go."
"Wait. Wait. Let me get this straight. For reasons you can't explain, which I frankly don't understand, the guy isn't a creep for secretly filming you having sex, you aren't prepared to dump him, he apparently loves that you like to exhibit yourself, and remind me...he's loaded, right? Sister, I'm not sure what the issues are, but a weekend at Grey's Point? I'll go instead of you. How's that?"
Marcie laughed a little. "Mmmm, hmmm. No. I'm sorry. I can't tell you because it's a technology he's working with and I've signed an NDA...now stop it! Please, let me finish. Anyway, yes, I'm really confused. I asked him to go see Patti, and he did -- just today, and she's told me he's really into me, and...shit.. I don't know."
"Patti said, 'he's really into you'?"
"Okay, look, I'm seeing her tomorrow and she's got something to propose...but she's assured me he's not a creep, so I guess I'll trust her on that one. But, it just feels like if I go with him this weekend I'm not much better than a high-priced call-girl. Really. If the only reason I'm hanging around with the guy is because he's loaded, that's just prostitution."
"Yeah. That's it. You're the slut 'cause you're falling for a guy who actually digs you, and by the way who's wealthier than God. So yeah. Definitely tell him no. Not a good idea to keep seeing him."
She could hear her tsking in the background, and Carole was right. She was being an idiot, again. Why can't I trust the world isn't out to get me? She had a fleeting thought to share with her her latest revelations about her step-mother but bit her tongue.
"Thanks, Carole. As usual you put the proper light on things. No..no, I'm serious. I deserved it. I'm an idiot. I just can't believe this guy is for reals. Yeah. I'll let you know what I decide, but why the fuck shouldn't I go to Grey's Point with Mr. Hard On?"
* - * - * - *
"Monty?" She felt so shy all of a sudden. They hadn't talked in days, and it was as if she were back in middle school. She was practically shaking from nerves.
"So, shall I send the car to your office, around lunchtime on Friday?" He seemed completely unperturbed by their week-long hiatus.
"Lunch...how about 1? Does that give us enough time to get there? Wait a minute...car? Aren't you driving?"
"I'll explain when I pick you up. 1PM. Perfect. See you tomorrow. Oh, there's a dinner on Saturday night, if you don't have something to wear, we can pick you up something at the resort. Be prepared for some time at the beach too. I'll be busy during the afternoons, but the mornings are wide open."
The way he said the last part sent a small shiver through her. She could see herself spread wide open for him...every morning. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.
* - * - * - *
"Ms. Adams?" The man's voice was silky smooth. "Your car is waiting downstairs when you're ready."
It was 12:45. Way too early. "Okay. I'm going to be a few minutes, though. I'll be down at 1."
"No problem. We'll be here."
She quickly finished up, not satisfied at how much she still had to do. It was going to be a rough Monday, but how often did a girl get to go on an all-expense paid weekend at Grey's Point? She signed out of her system, turned off the lights and waved a few hesitant so longs as she exited the office. She had to swing by her car in the garage to pick up her suitcase.
As she left the lobby, she saw a sleek black town car parked in the drop-off zone, the driver, smartly dressed in a black suit, leaning on the hood chatting with some building personnel. As she approached, he swiftly stood up and took her bag. He loomed over her by at least a head, maybe more, his shoulders broader than a house. He had to weigh three times her. A linebacker was all she could think of. His smile was disarming; he effortlessly took her bag while opening the back door.
She slid in to an empty back seat of a nicely appointed limousine. It wasn't a stretch, but the leather seats were cushy and it was quiet. She noted the full bar and thought it was still a little early to be drinking. She was disappointed to see Monty wasn't in the car and.
She rolled down the window before the driver got in. "Ummm. Excuse me. I don't even know your name..."
"Jim, will Dr. Green be joining us? And please call me Marcie"
"Yes. Dr. Green is our next stop."
He got behind the wheel and pulled away.
She realized, in the couple of months they had been dating, she'd never been to any of Monty's businesses, not counting his restaurants.
She dropped the window separating the driver from the back. "Will it be long?" She could review more of the files she'd taken with her, but frankly didn't want to get into it if it was only going to be a few minutes.
"About 10 minutes is all, Marcie. Feel free to make yourself a drink; there's some nuts and candies in the fridge there as well." He looked at her in the review mirror to see if she was okay.
"Thanks, Jim." She decided to check the thing out, having only been in a stretch once in her life -- after prom -- and then there were so many kids in the car she could barely get a look at anything at all.
She realized she was nervous. It was like their first date all over again. The week had changed everything: his invention, his lack of concern about her problem, her memory of her first time...when maybe her hang-ups all began...his proposal with Patti...and all of the sex they'd had. She blushed thinking back on it and it had only been a week. The memories flooded into her mind -- the massage, the first time they made love, the first time in the shower...the visions in the dungeon...no...basement!
She knew she should stop thinking about all of their times together, but she couldn't; she was horny. She hadn't had any for a week and after months of some of the most intense sex she'd had in her life, she was hooked. The thought of his erection made her wriggle. She wondered how long she could take it before she attacked him.
She lingered again on the confrontation with her step-mom; a memory she had spent years suppressing. Maybe there was something to what Monty was suggesting -- she'd only seen two alternate pasts that night and it pulled one of the key moments in her past out from under a garbage dump of guilt and shame.
She looked out the window as the car entered a parking lot of a non-descript set of low-slung industrial buildings. No names on the buildings suggested one of two things to her: there were no "named" tenants, or the tenants valued their privacy. The driver turned between two of the buildings and then turned right into an underground garage. As the car passed through the doors, Marcie noted several uniformed men stationed on either side of the entrance. To her alarm they were brandishing semi-automatic rifles.
What the fuck is going on?
The driver continued through to a ramp in the center of the garage and spiraled down three levels, exiting onto a brightly lit floor. They traveled back the way they had come; as far as Marcie could tell, they were driving much further than where the entrance should have been. Finally, he stopped at a set of glass doors she assumed were the elevator entrance.
"If you'll just wait here a minute, Marcie, I'll let Dr. Green know we've arrived."
She sat looking at the gleaming cars parked throughout the floor, wondering where she was exactly. She was about to get out and look around when the two of them returned. She looked up to see Monty's face, to see if any emotion registered there that was close to what she was feeling. The smile that greeted her was so genuine and so sincere, her concerns melted away congratulating herself on ignoring her idiotic concerns.
He slid in next to her and before she could say a thing planted his lips on hers. She moved to embrace him, feeling his hands run up her ribs grazing her breasts. She would gladly have fucked him right then and there, except for the small matter of Jim. She was certain he'd seen it all, but he hadn't seen her all, and she wasn't going to let that happen. She could control herself until the hotel room...maybe.
She pulled out of the kiss just as Jim pulled away from the elevators. "What is going on here, Monty? Did I see armed guards at the front door? And why the car and driver?"
He set his attaché case into a pocket and sat back. "Did you make yourself a drink? It's a little early, but I've got nothing until tomorrow at 2PM, so it wouldn't bother me to toss a couple back."
She shook her head, but indicated he was more than welcome to partake.
"This particular board meeting is a little more sensitive than the usual. A few government types who prefer to keep their high priced assets under slightly greater security when they all come together under one roof. We had a preliminary meeting with a task force here this week, and now several of us are getting together at Grey's Point...you met Jim?" He gestured to the hulk taking up most of the front seat.
"Yesss...Impressive. Body guard?"
He half smiled. "Yep. Nice guy. Been with us for several years. Hate to see him hurt. Hate to see him hurt someone else for that matter. Thankfully nothing's happened in all these years, and I don't expect anything this weekend, but I can understand how it might be a bit unnerving. I think I'll make myself a drink, speaking of unnerving..."
* - * - * - *
She'd never been to Grey's Point -- it was way out of her league and she'd never had a reason -- no golf tournament, no awards banquet, no major conference she'd been invited to attend. As they approached the main building up a winding drive, the road bordered with manicured beds of flowers, she could already smell the ocean. It appeared briefly and then was hidden by a grove of trees or the main building itself.
She looked at the sprawling structure, several stories high but styled as an English cottage -- rough sawn shingles, details around the windows, the roof slanting down -- and realized it was much larger than it appeared. It was composed of two wings joined to a central block for the main entrance and a large covered arrival area. Jim swung the car into place and she looked out the windows to the landscaping. One of the hotel personnel opened her door waiting patiently for her to emerge.
Monty had already swung his legs out, grabbing his attaché on the way. She followed suit, a little overwhelmed by all of the attention already being paid to her. Is this what it would be like living with him? She shut down the train of thought, following him to the lobby.
A man greeted him as he walked in the door, handing Monty a folder and a set of keys. They chatted briefly, and then Monty introduced her to him. "This is Jim Saunders...there appear to be a lot of Jims today, eh? If there's anything you need while you're here, Jim can help you. Here's his contact information; he's available 24 hours a day."
She took the card and looked up at the two of them, a little confused. "But, I ..."
"It's a working weekend, as I mentioned. We'll have plenty of time until about 2PM tomorrow, but after that, you might find yourself alone for several hours."
She nodded slightly, still a little mystified. She could find a number of ways to entertain herself in this place, she was certain, but apparently if all else failed, she had Jim.
They entered the elevators, their suitcases already having been taken up. As the elevator doors closed she took a glance at the lobby: marble and fresh flowers everywhere, the concierge and reception desks a deep mahogany, and the smell of the ocean permeating the air.
She was silent, thinking about her new status with him -- his "date" for a business weekend. Perhaps the others had their husbands and wives with them, maybe others had dates too. Her thoughts drifted to the conversation she'd had with Patti -- that he had suggested a novel method of treating her disorder. Patti wasn't completely convinced, although she told Marcie the philosophy behind it was sound, and that there were therapies based on it she had read about. But she was more than a little concerned: Monty was not an objective third party; he had his own agendas and in spite of his apparent neutrality regarding Marcie's condition, he wasn't a trained therapist and was romantically involved with her. She had agreed to let him proceed only as long as Marcie was okay with it.
Marcie wasn't sure what it was, but it had something to do with the device. Since that wasn't part of the weekend plans, she set her worries aside following him out to the hall. Therapy could wait until next week. A concierge was waiting at their door, welcoming them in.
When she turned into the doorway, the view struck her like a bucket of water. The entire front of the suite faced the ocean, floor to ceiling glass, completely filled by the dark blue of the ocean greeting the light blue of the sky.
The suite was huge -- a main sitting area with tables and chairs, a small bar and an entertainment area. Off to the right she could see the main bedroom, and off to the left another door to a room whose purpose she couldn't imagine.
She'd only seen hotel rooms like this in movies. She was moving slowly through it all; as if in a dream. She realized, after several moments, Monty had been asking her something. The concierge had already left. They were alone.
"I'm sorry. I've just been distracted by this room. This is amazing!"
He smiled at her. "I was saying I'm going to unpack and then I was wondering if you wanted to hit the beach for a couple of hours."
She followed him into the bedroom.
Their suitcases had been placed on separate stands. There was more storage than in her own bedroom at home. She unzipped her small bag and placed the few items she'd packed into the top drawer of a bureau.
"I think I mentioned this, right? There will be a formal dinner tomorrow night...?"
She practically died. She hadn't brought anything close to formal. Her anger started to build. "Monty, you had said there was a dinner, but nothing about it being formal..."
He didn't let her get far. "It's okay. Not to worry. There's a shop off the lobby -- I'm sure they can fit you with something. If not, we'll figure something else out."
She was more than a little pissed. What else wasn't he telling her? "Formal. Tomorrow night. Okay. What else?" She tried to breathe through the annoyance.
"That's the only group event. Here's the agenda..." He tossed the folder onto the bed towards her. "Sunday we'll likely have brunch with a bunch of the folks, and then we have an afternoon session. Check out is at 1PM -- but we're welcome to use the facilities all the way into the evening. It's up to us when we leave."
"I think before we hit the beach we better see whether they have something for me to wear, don't you think?" She had finished unpacking, taking her toiletry bag to the bathroom. More marble, A gorgeous shower, separate toilet and a bath. The annoyance was rapidly replaced with sheer wonder. She was sorry they only had a couple of days there.
"Great idea," he called to her from the bedroom, "but let's get into our suits -- they won't mind fitting you in your swimsuit."
She didn't doubt it, as it was a beach resort, but the idea made her a little uncomfortable. The difference between trying on a formal dress and wearing a bikini was almost too much for her to bridge. As she came back into the room he was already undressed, his cock swinging from side to side.
"Now that's a pretty sight." She giggled as he thrust his pelvis forward, making his penis bounce.
"I'd say we could do a quickie, but I don't want to miss the sun. Quick get into your suit."
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her undress. It sent a bolt of electricity up her spine, taking off her clothes for him in this strange room, the entire wall open to anyone who might be walking on the beach beyond. She knew they couldn't see her, but she felt self-conscious nonetheless. Her nipples hardened at the thought and the electricity turned into a small vibration in her groin.