Almost Paradise

I'd like to thank kenjisato, again, for great editing and my friend Gen for input. If you find any mistakes, it's probably something I did after editing.

Active sexual activity only involves characters over the age of eighteen. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Names have been changed to protect the innocent and my bank account.

I listened to the song 'Almost Paradise'. I looked at the lyrics, let each line roam around in my mind, until I got an idea, then I wrote what popped up. Scary, ain't it!

I have used some Spanish here, I do not profess being a linguist, just a high school Spanish student many years ago.

Almost Paradise

It was a Monday and I, William Taylor, 29, unattached, was sitting in my favorite café in one of my three-piece suits, having just finished my usual breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice.

My momma always said I was a handsome man, but mommas always say that, right? I am a respectable five-foot-ten-inches tall and two hundred pounds. I played sports in high school and college, so I try to keep in shape.

I have a home work out gym. I do quite well in everything but romance.

In romance, I can be shy and a little retiring. Mainly because in my job, I meet a lot of gold diggers. And I have almost been caught in a gold digger's web a couple of times.

I thought that dreams belonged to other men

She walked in. As she came by my booth, she twisted her ankle when her heel broke, and she fell into my lap.

She looked up at me. She was a beautiful strawberry blonde, sparkling-blue eyes, red lips with just a touch of lipstick, petite-looking breasts, curves in the right places, and legs that went on forever.

Straightening herself up, and slipping into the seat next to me, she apologized for falling in my lap. She took off her shoe and took out of her large purse what looked like dance slippers. She picked up the broken heel and was about to throw the pair of shoes away.

When I said, "Hold on, they can be fixed."

She questioned, "You fix shoes?"

"I have in the past."

My past included working construction while in college. It was a custom cabinet shop, and we would install the cabinets after we built them. We had very rich customers so many of our cabinets were very, very custom and required a lot of woodworking; putting a heel back on her shoe was no problem for me.

I had gotten my undergrad degree in Business Administration, and I had my MBA. At that point, I was one of the youngest chief human resources officers (CHRO) in my industry, well several industries, since my company was a conglomerate.

********

She handed me her shoes. "Well, if you can fix them, give them to somebody who may need shoes."

I put them in my backpack.

She stood up, but fell back in my lap when she tried to put weight on her foot.

I caught her again. I said, "That looks bad. Would you like me to give you a ride to the hospital?"

"No, if you could just help me to my car."

Since it was her left foot and since there weren't many standard shift cars around, I figured okay, she'll be able to drive, so I left my booth.

The waitress said, "I'll watch your stuff."

I helped her to her car in the parking lot right out front of the café. She hit her key fob, and we heard the car unlock. I helped her into her car she swung her beautiful legs into the car.

After she was seated properly and buckled in, I said, "Well at least tell me your name? I am Bill."

"My name is Barbara, Barb, and I am lucky I don't have any appointments 'til tomorrow so I'll be able to take care of this tonight, ice should help. Thank you for your help."

'Cause each time I got close

She started her car and drove away. I was smitten. All I had was a first name.

I gathered up my laptop, my briefcase and my backpack and left the café. I got in my SUV and drove to my office. Today was going to be a really fucked-up day. I had three underlings out, who did most of the initial interviews. One was out on maternity leave, one called in sick with appendicitis, and he will be out a week or two, and the third one had just gotten married and was on her honeymoon. So, I had to do a bunch of cold first interviews 'til the end of the week.

********

Today, I had six interviews for four different positions in two of our subsidiaries. I studied the four info sheets on the positions. Even though I was a young guy, I stressed with my department that interviewees should be dressed for success. If they came in looking professional, they were halfway there, if they came in not wearing professional attire, they almost always would be rejected. Yes, I know it's a tight-ass rule, but it has been working for me for the last five years. Out of the six, two showed up in jeans and sneakers both were guys; I told them, "We'll call you back if there is a need for a second interview."

The remaining four were three women and one man. All scored high enough to get a second interview. I closed my office door and left for home, carrying my briefcase and my backpack.

When I got home, I was edgy. I had been cooped up in my office all day with the interviews. I needed something to divert my thoughts. I opened my backpack and there were the shoes. I said to myself, 'What the hell, why don't I just fix them.' I changed my clothes went to my workshop. I took out the shoes, I saw the other heel was also loose. I got my heavy-duty glue; Elmer's would just not cut it. I pulled the inner sole out and I glued and re-nailed both heels back on, I used the proper glue to re-attach the inner sole and buffed the shoes back to their original luster. It only took an hour since the heavy-duty glue was a quick-setting one. I knew the inner-sole glue would be set by morning. I put them back in my backpack.

They'd fall apart again

I climbed into bed after I watched the late news. The fixing of the shoes was cathartic for me, it opened my mind to think about other things, other than the boring interviews. I could look forward to the interviews for tomorrow, as they were what we called 'first prime interviews', which meant their resumes had piqued interest, and had been investigated through their past work records, recommendations and social media. Nowadays, we check public social media because, well, everybody was checking it. We caught a few problem applicants that we really did not want to hire-- getting hired is a cold, cruel world.

Now with my mind not occupied, I started to think about the beautiful strawberry blonde with sparkling-blue eyes. Again, I felt like I had lost a chance to meet a nice girl... er... woman... er... lady... er... member of the opposite sex... shit, I mean a person. (Damn my HR mind!)

I feared my heart would beat in secrecy

I got up in the morning and was daydreaming about the beautiful strawberry blonde as I took my shower. I spent too much time in the shower. The water massager felt so good on my shoulders and neck that I lost track of time. I jumped out of the shower, dressed in one of my three-piece suits; after all, I was an officer of the company. I grabbed my backpack, briefcase and jumped in my full-size SUV. I was going to drop off the shoes off at the thrift store on my way home.

I read the files for the interviewees I would have today. Looking at them, a name caught my eye. The name was Barbara. I opened the file. It showed a link to her social media page, so I said, "What the hell, let me look." I looked at the pictures-- it was her-- my strawberry blonde, sparkling-blue-eyed lady-in-distress, a Ms. Barbara Powell.

I faced the nights alone

She would be my second interview. She was interviewing for a position at one of our subsidiaries, four levels below me in management, (two in the subsidiary and two here at corporate). Just for the heck of it, I checked the corporate policy on fraternization. She wouldn't be under my direct supervision, so if my dreams were to come true, I could fraternize with her... haha.

Oh, how could I have known

The first interview was a single mother who was well qualified, just that she'd been out of the field for five years. She almost shared too much-- her ex had an office romance and got fired and his co-worker got pregnant. I showed her the proper amount of sympathy to be polite. I really didn't need to know these facts, but it also told me that she needed the job and she probably would be a good worker because of it. Generally, a positive interview. My recommendation was yes, hire her.

I had about thirty minutes before Barb's interview. I went to my executive washroom-- and, yes, I have one-- took care of business and splashed a little aftershave on, that I keep in there.

About five minutes before her appointment, I got a call from my receptionist, Candy, telling me my next interview called and said she would be late. Candy asked, "Since it's near lunch, do you want me to reschedule her?"

I said, "No!"

I sat at my desk and waited. She was thirty minutes late. Usually, that would mean an instant rejection. But I was going to look the other way.

Candy called me again. "We will be there in five minutes."

I said to myself, "WE? FIVE MINUTES, it is only a minute walk from her desk to my door?"

That all my life I only needed you?

There was a knock on my door.

"Come in."

In rolled Barb in a wheelchair being pushed by Candy and I thanked Candy for helping. Barb did not look up at me as she was trying to avoid the chairs by my desk. When she looked up, she said, "It's you!"

Here she was-- my beautiful strawberry blonde, with sparkling-blue eyes, red lips with just a touch of lipstick, petite-looking breasts, curves in the right places and legs that went on forever-- with a cast on her left foot-- dream girl... er... person.

Oh almost paradise

"How nice to see you again, Ms. Powell." I stood up, moved a chair or two, and shook Barb's hand.

We're knockin' on heaven's door

The interview was great, without prejudice or favoritism by me (I think.) She was by far the best applicant I had seen in a long time.

I did a little self-introspection, asking myself, 'Am I making a proper decision here?' I told myself, 'Yes!' I would be recommending her for immediate hire.

Just then, Candy called and told me the two remaining interviews had called and rescheduled. It seemed being cooped up in the office kept me from seeing what the weather was outside. A hell of a storm had hit us. It was windy and raining dinosaurs. (I have a niece who would call torrential rain, 'raining dinosaurs', cute kid. I was her favorite uncle.)

I asked Barb how she would be getting home.

She spoke. "I don't know. I had to get a dial-a-ride handicapped bus to bring me."

I looked at the clock it was past noon. "So, you hungry?"

With a blush, Barb said, "I can't afford to eat out 'til I start working."

I said, "Heck I can expense a lunch, let me take you to lunch." I don't know where I got the guts to ask her to lunch, but I did. "I have a full-size SUV and I can ford a river with it."

Almost paradise

I told Candy that I was going to lunch and would drive Ms. Powell home because of the weather, and I would work from home the rest of the day.

Candy said, "The radio said there were sightings of a ship that was 300 cubits long, 50 cubits wide and full of animals in the neighborhood." She had the biggest smile.

I told her to send out a memo to all employees they could leave early without penalty. I told her to post on the company's website that tomorrow would be a 'work from home' day.

How could we ask for more?

We took the elevator to the basement parking garage. As we exited the elevator, I could hear the sump pumps running, which meant we obviously had some water getting into the basement parking garage. I called security and directed them to inform all employees to remove their cars from the parking garage ASAP. I helped Barb into my front seat, I helped her swing her beautiful legs into my SUV.

I couldn't help but say, "We have to stop meeting like this, this is what we were doing the last time we were together."

She giggled.

I turned on the radio and a tornado warning was being broadcast.

She said, "Shit, that's my neighborhood!"

As I pulled out on to the street, the tornado warning became a tornado watch.

I told her, "I am going to drive to your neighborhood."

I swear that I can see forever in your eyes

When I reached her neighborhood, Barb broke out in tears. Several homes had significant damage. When we reached her apartments, a bunch of duplexes, the roofs were missing from three of the five duplexes. I was able to drive around the debris and pulled up to her unit. It was missing its roof. I told her to stay in the vehicle. I took off my suit jacket, vest and tie; I went in and surveyed her apartment. Tornadoes do strange things. There was a bowl of fruit and vase of flowers on her kitchen table untouched. It seemed the only thing missing was the roof, completely.

I made an executive decision. I returned to my vehicle and told Barb, "I got this covered." I called my maintenance department. I got a hold of Diego de la Vega, head of the department, he was the first person I hired as CHRO when I was first moved up four years ago. I asked him, "How's everything at the office?

"Everything is bien, Patron."

"¿Y tu casa?"

"Bien también."

"Can you bring the truck, some boxes and a couple of your men to 775 Cedar Road? I will be paying all of you."

"Sí, Patron."

"Gracias, Diego."

"De nada."

I turned to Barb and said, "Help is on the way."

Barb turned to me and put her head on my shoulder and tears flooded my shirt.

We sat and listened to the continuing weather reports. It looked like the tornadoes were over. After twenty minutes, Diego showed up with three men. I told them to get every piece of clothing from Barb's apartment.

When I wheeled Barb into what was her apartment, she could not believe that even with the roof gone, her calendar was still on the wall. I had the guys move her desk and a file cabinet into the truck. I rolled her into her bedroom and she got all her jewelry.

I told her, "I will put you up at my house until you find a new place, if I hire you, I'll just be a full-service boss."

Just as we were walking out the front door, a county sheriff deputy pulled up with lights flashing, and he pulled his gun.

Paradise

I told Diego and his men, "Hombres, silencio. La policía está aquí. Hablaré con la policía."

I raised my hands pointing to Barb and said, "Here is the resident, officer. Can she get her identification out of her purse for you?"

He said, "Keep your hands where I can see them; okay, ma'am, please take your identification out with one hand."

Barb did exactly what he said, and when she handed it to him, she said, "Thank you deputy, my dad is Undersheriff Powell."

The deputy's eyes grew as big as saucers and asked, "...What is his first name?"

"Robert, or Bob if you know him well, and if you are his friend, he goes as Bobby," replied Barb.

He called into the office and asked to be patched into Undersheriff Powell. He told him he had a Barbara Powell detained for possible looting.

"Yes sir!" He handed his phone to Barb.

"Hi Daddy... Yes, my apartment lost its roof... I have a place to go." She looked at me and smiled at me. While Barb was on the phone the deputy checked the IDs of the rest of us.

"Oh, Daddy you should be proud of your deputy, he was very professional. I'll call when I am more settled... yeah, I broke my ankle... Daddy! I AM being taken care of... Love you, Daddy. Bye."

The deputy tipped his hat. "Have a better day, ma'am."

It seems like perfect love's so hard to find

"Okay, Bill, I am ready to see what you are offering."

I told Diego to follow me, and one of his men drove Barb's car. Twenty miles later, I was at the front gate of my gated community. Diego and the guys followed me in. As I pulled into my driveway, Barb said, "Holy shit, that's a big house who else lives here... Prince Harry and Meghan Markle?"

"No, just me."

As I pulled into my three-car garage, I told Diego to take Barb's clothes to the guest room on the first floor. The few pieces of furniture, we set in the garage. As Diego was about to leave, I pulled four fifty-dollar bills out of my wallet, and handed them to the guys.

I heard a chorus of gracias from the guys,

"El guesto es mio."

I'd almost given up

Barb rolled herself into the guest room. She set out an outfit to wear. I was about to start a late lunch or early dinner, when I heard Barb call to me asking for help.

"Ah... Bill I need help to take a bath."

Not thinking, I said, "Okay, the towels are in the linen closet."

"Bill, I said I need help, physical help!"

I looked at her with what I bet was the dumbest expression. "OH, help; ah, okay."

"I need to keep my cast dry. So, water does not get under the cast material."

I thought for a minute, and responded, "Okay." I went to my pantry, then to my home office and then out to my pool locker.

Barb was sitting in her wheelchair with her arms folded. I was carrying a plastic pool chair, a pool pillow, trash bags and rubber bands.

I told her to put her arms around my neck and to stand on her good foot. I undid the button on her slacks, pulled down the zipper and let her slacks fall to the floor. I averted my eyes, but not before I noticed the cute cotton bikini panties that were printed with little flowers, and no, I don't know what type of flowers they were. I let her sit back down in her wheelchair. I covered her cast with the trash bag and secured it with the rubber bands. I then told her, "Finish taking off your clothes while I start the water."

I took the pool chair into the bathroom and placed it in the tub, since it was a two person tub, the chair sat very level. As I reentered the guest room, Barb was sitting in her wheelchair with her arms folded over her bare breasts and her panties were still on, I diverted my eyes to the ceiling.

You must have read my mind

With a red face, she said, "I need help with my panties." She was able to roll up to the bathroom door.

I swallowed hard. "Okay, put your arms around my neck again." I closed my eyes.

I leaned over. I felt her arms around my neck, then I felt her wonderful bare breasts against my shirt-covered chest. As I lifted her up, I hooked my thumbs in the waist of her panties and pulled them down.

"Leave your cast on the outside of the tub." I sat her down on the pool chair. I placed the pool pillow on the tub side and lifted her cast on to the pillow. I turned to leave.

And Barb spoke up, "Thank you, Bill." She had tears in her eyes.

And all these dreams I saved for a rainy day

She looked at me with begging eyes, and quietly said, "I need help washing."

I handed her a wet towel so she could cover up. I went to my room and change into shorts and a T-shirt and returned.

"Okay..." I took my shirt off and grabbed a washcloth and shampoo. I started with her hair. I washed, rinsed and repeated. I then started to wash her arms and neck.

Barb told me, "Please wash all of me, so I can get it over with." She was red in the face; it matched mine.

I was having a reaction in my shorts. I hoped she was too embarrassed to notice it. I decided that a little chitchat might lighten the mood.