Bimbo Builder Academy Ch. 09

The young woman's smile turned genuinely amused for a moment, and she gave me a sparkling grin. "You're definitely honest, sir," she said.

I raised my eyebrows, uncertain if it was a compliment, as she came around the counter and toward me. I could now see that in addition to her white blouse she wore a pair of dark blue pants that ended just above her ankles.

"You'd be surprised how many men come in," she continued, "skulk around for a couple minutes and then leave with something arbitrary." She reached over, plucked a tennis visor at random from a nearby shelf, and waved it at me, as if to illustrate her point.

I felt my discomfort ease a little. "Lucky my girlfriend doesn't play tennis," I joked. A second later I realized that I was talking about Julia, and I pressed my lips together in a firm line.

The young woman nodded, ignored my abrupt change from joking to serious, and swept her eyes around the small shop. "That's good of you to remember. I'm sure your girlfriend appreciates your thoughtfulness." She glanced back at me, and I wondered if she had been giving me time to get my face back under control. "As you can see, this isn't just some run-of-the-mill lobby shop where you can find a tee shirt and a tote bag."

I could see that. In fact, the glass-walled room looked more like a high-end outlet store than a normal gift shop.

"Do you know how much you'd like to spend?"

I felt in my pocket, and was relieved to feel the outline of my wallet. I gave a shaky smile. "Less than $100?" I said, my tone only half-hopeful.

The salesgirl chuckled softly, biting her lip. With a rueful expression, she held out the visor. "A visor and a pair of socks is about how far that will stretch," she offered. "Not much of an outfit, but maybe for certain activities..." Her eyes flashed laughingly and she looked away. "I'm sorry, sir, that was unprofessional."

I chuckled though, and felt the tightness in my chest lighten. I momentarily imagined Lena in nothing but a tennis visor and a pair of long athletic socks, and the picture was... Hot. I'd never imagined Lena as the sporty type, though, and in my mind's eye the picture suddenly changed. Now it was Natalie, twisting and turning in my bed, begging me to—

"Don't worry about it..." My eyes flickered to the young woman's blouse and back up into her eyes when I didn't see a nametag. I tilted my tone up at the end, making the statement into a question.

"Danielle," she told me.

"Mitch." We shook hands. "Well, Danielle," I continued. "I just need something my girl can wear out of here today. Think you can help me out?"

The lovely brunette smiled. "I'd be happy to, sir."

* * *

I tried to keep my equilibrium when Danielle finally rang up my purchases, and gratefully accepted the large paper bag she passed over the counter.

"Thanks," I said, nodding and turning away. I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach as I shoved the long receipt into my pocket. You needed to do this, I told myself. You weren't walking out of here in bathrobes, and the clothes you wore coming in last night are too conspicuous. You're not trying to make a scene.

"Have a good day, sir!" Danielle called after me, her voice upbeat and cheery. I simply raised my hand without looking back. Another glimpse of her smiling, pretty face and I would probably just think of Julia. And I had enough on my mind right now.

Still, instead of letting myself get down, I focused on the positive. It gave me a surprising pleasure to buy a gift for Lena, though I knew that she would probably offer to pay me back. I wondered, briefly, whether she received some sort of allowance from her "father." Aside from paying for her time at the Academy, it made sense that she would have money to buy clothes and cosmetics and other products that the man might consider worthwhile. If she did, maybe we could put her money to use somehow. In our plan. Which I hadn't figured out yet.

But I shook my head. Just stick to facts, I reminded myself. Things you know for certain. The less variables the better. You can't solve problems with wild ideas. Bag in hand, I stepped out of the gift shop. I figured I would go back up to the room, where Lena and I could put our heads together and work our way through the knotty problem ahead of us. While I strode into the lobby, brain still buzzing with caffeine from the several cups of coffee I'd drunk, I tried to get a head start.

Think, dammit, I ordered myself. Just lay it out, nice and simple. What's the end goal? I looked up then, and I stopped dead in my tracks.

Oh crap.

Because who should I see striding across the lobby but Harrison St. John?

* * *

I turned and ducked back into the gift shop on instinct, almost running into Danielle.

"Sir?" she said, confused.

I was right up close to her, my bag fumbling in my hands. Harrison had been heading in a different direction, and I didn't think he'd seen me, but I couldn't be sure. I thought quickly. "Danielle," I said, trying to let only a small part of my anxiety show through. "Can I get your help with something else? A personal matter. It has to do with my girlfriend, the young lady I told you about."

The cute brunette furrowed her brow and looked up at me, taking a step back. "I'm not sure..." she started uncomfortably, but I spoke hurriedly.

"Please," I said. "There's a man in the lobby. Short, pudgy, round face. It's her ex, and he's been following us trying to make a scene. I really don't want to have to confront him right now. Would you please just look if he's coming this way?"

I held my breath and hoped that Danielle was like most women that I knew — that is, she had an ex she'd rather avoid — and would be willing to help a couple in distress.

The young woman's expression turned from surprised to concerned, and she bit her lip. After a split second, she nodded firmly. Stepping around me, she glanced into the lobby.

I stepped further into the gift shop, pulling the hood up over my head instinctively.

Danielle was back a couple seconds later, patting me comfortingly on the arm. "You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Hood," she teased.

My shoulders rose and fell as I blew out a breath.

"He is sitting in the middle of the lobby, though," the young woman added. "Reading on his phone, it looks like. If you go out, he'll probably see you." She saw my concerned expression, and went on. "If you like..." she chewed her lip again, glanced away, and then back into my face. "There's a service elevator. Right around the corner from here. I can swipe you into it, if you need to avoid him."

I nodded gratefully. Things were moving quickly now. What was Harrison doing here? Did he know that Lena and I had spent the night? How could he? And if he did, why was he just reading in the lobby? Was he waiting for us to come down from our room? "Thank you," I muttered, but I must have still seemed worried because Danielle gave me a concerned look.

"Should we talk to the concierge?" she asked. "They can have security remove him, if he's going to be an issue." She added a reassuring smile. "Our guests are very important to us. If you don't feel comfortable, we'll do anything we can to help you feel welcomed and safe."

I hesitated. Then, I nodded. "Yes. Please. That would be a huge weight off my mind. I don't want my girlfriend to be worried about some confrontation. I don't know if she'd feel good leaving her room, knowing he was down here waiting."

Danielle jerked her head in agreement and turned on her heel. She walked swiftly around the counter and picked up a corded hotel phone from her desk. She lifted it to her ear, gave me another smile, and hit a quick combo of numbers on the keypad in the phone's cradle. "Yeah, Jerry? Hey. I was hoping you could help me with something..."

I shifted my weight nervously and glanced over my shoulder. There was no one in the hallway outside, and a wall of large, leafy plants blocked the view into the lobby.

"Yes, I have a guest here who recognized someone in the lobby... Someone who just walked in, yeah. The guest was hoping we could have security remove the man." Danielle listened, then covered the receiver. "What's the name?" she asked me.

I blinked, looking over at her. "Harrison... I mean, St. John. Harrison St. John."

"It's Harrison St. John," she relayed, giving me a reassuring smile.

A pause.

Then, Danielle gave me a confused look as the voice on the other side evidently resumed speaking. She listened. "He is?" she asked. "Alright, sorry to bother you... No, no, I can take care of it. Thanks, Jerry."

"What is it?" I asked as she hung up.

The brunette cocked her head at me, her lips pursed. "Security isn't going to be able to help you," she said. "Harrison St. John is one of our guests."

* * *

I stepped out of the service elevator after Danielle, then passed her and led the way to my room.

"I'm really sorry I couldn't be more help to you," she apologized. The woman looked embarrassed and uncomfortable. "I just don't have any authority to... You know, between different guests..."

I shook my head, and would have patted her arm comfortingly if I didn't have my hands full with my purchases. "It's alright. Don't worry about it." My mind was already far ahead, far away. Had Lena known that Harrison was staying here? How had this happened?

We came to my door. The hallway was empty both ways, and I knocked with one foot. "Lena?" I called softly. "It's Mitch! I'm back."

A moment of silence and then the sound of multiple locks being undone.

Lena's face appeared, smiling brightly. "I was starting to worry," she teased. "You were gone so long..." Then her eyes flickered from me to my companion. "Hello, who's this?"

I glanced over at Danielle.

The woman was standing still, surprise on her pretty features, dark eyes wide. She glanced between Lena and me, but her hesitation only lasted a moment before her professional training took over. "Danielle," she hastily, offering her hand. "I work in the gift shop downstairs."

Lena took it calmly, pulling her bathrobe around herself a little tighter with one hand. "Ah, and you came up to help Mitch with...?"

I stepped in. "There's something I need to tell you about," I told the blonde. "Danielle was helping me to avoid a very bad situation." I nudged the door the rest of the way open and walked into the suite, depositing my bags on the nearest surface.

"Thank you, then..." Lena's voice was still uncertain, but I could tell she was smiling her high-society, model-worthy smile.

"Please don't mention it," Danielle seemed equally unsure. "I should be getting back to work now..."

I turned as the dark-haired young woman stepped away from the door. "Wait, Danielle!" I called. I hurried back. "I really don't mean to impose, but if you could do us just one more favor..."

* * *

Lena smiled as I self-consciously tugged the polo over my head.

"Danielle said it was a good color for me," I muttered skeptically. Despite doing my best to keep well-groomed and in shape, I was never great with fashion. I was thankful that both of my jobs so far had enforced a dress code for professors, because it meant I didn't have to go through the daily struggle of picking out an outfit.

"Hmm..." Lena nodded, stepping closer and fixing my collar. She smiled brightly. "She was right." My companion had been initially shocked and upset when I'd told her that Harrison was staying in the same hotel, but both of us quickly realized the possible upside.

Keep your enemies close, like they say... I thought.

When we figured out how to deal with him, Lena's "father" would be within easy striking distance. Not that I imagined a scenario where physical violence would solve any of our current issues. But we both knew it was only a matter of time before Lena's phone rang and Harrison St. John was on the other end of it.

The only thing I could think was that maybe—

Lena was kissing me before I could finish the thought, standing on her toes and sliding her arms around my neck.

"Mmm," I murmured into her lips, my hands instinctively landing on her slim waist. I could smell her sweet scent, feel the way her elbows curled to pull me closer. "What's that for?" I asked.

Our faces were close, and her green eyes were bright. "A thank you," she murmured. "For doing so much to try and protect me from... him." I felt her slender body shudder against mine. "I had no idea, when we came here last night, that he..." Her features creased with uncertainty.

"It's alright..." I kissed her again. It was a quick, gentle kiss, and I was surprised at how easy it felt. The small gesture of intimacy felt simple, like we'd been together for a long time. "This could work to our advantage. Now..." and I grinned down, gently stepping away. "Time for you to dress up for me."

Lena glanced away, biting her lip cutely. "Alright..." She was so different now, from the haughty, vain and blatantly bitchy person I'd known for weeks. Her sweetness had blindsided me, and I already knew that I really liked it.

The young woman pulled my purchased from the bag, holding up first one, then the other. "You have good taste in women's clothes." She flashed me a quick, bright smile and I flushed a little.

"Danielle's recommendations," I said.

Lena checked the tag. "And you got my size spot on."

"I gave her a brief... ahem, I did my best to describe your... dimensions." I recalled the brief moment of panic I'd had downstairs, trying to describe Lena to the salesgirl in a mathematical, non-sexualized way.

Danielle had laughed, tossing her dark hair over her shoulders. Her chocolate eyes were bright and dancing. "Men always feel so uncomfortable talking to me about their partner's bust size," she grinned. Her humor helped me relax, and using Danielle as a vague yardstick we'd come to some estimates about Lena's fit.

The blonde chuckled now, a throaty sound that sent a shiver of heat down my chest and into the pit of my stomach. "I guess I should save my gratitude for our new friend Danielle, then." She didn't do it on purpose, but I swear that every sound from that sculpted mouth was a sexual promise. Or maybe I was just a simple, sex-hungry man.

Lena glanced my way through her eyelashes, then let her smile quirk up at the corner. "Alright, Professor..." she murmured. "Let's see if you got my dimensions right..." She undid the belt of her bathrobe with one hand, then shrugged free.

I swallowed, a bolt of desire zinging straight into my manhood and making me pull in a swift breath.

The bathrobe pooled at her feet, drawing my eyes to the floor before they made the slow, luxurious journey back up her body. Her curves were supple and smooth, begging for my hands. Her stomach was flat and I swear even her navel was made for kissing.

By the time I was looking into her face again, she was blushing.

"What?"

"Nothing..." Lena brushed her hair back behind one ear. It fell in a smooth curve brushing against her shoulders. "You just have this... look. When you look at me. It makes me feel special. Like I'm something special."

I nodded. I didn't know what to say. In my mind, my thoughts were rioting. Half of them were shouting at me — How could you forget Julia? How dare you look at another woman that way! — and the other half were encouraging — Look at you, making her feel like a princess! Way to go, Don Juan. The roiling thoughts made my embers of desire fade into the background, just a bit, and I was grateful. Right now, we needed to be thinking, not fucking.

Lena smiled at me, then quickly glanced down and began to button down her shirt. It was pale white, with the Regent R stitched simply on one side. It fell to the tops of her thighs, waiting to be tucked into the other half of her gift — a navy pencil skirt. Before she slipped the skirt up her legs, though, the blonde did a quick turn, her long, tan legs and the pert hemispheres of her ass teasing me just beneath the swishing hem of the button-down.

"What do you think?"

"Mmhmm..." I managed. Focus, Mitch...

There was a twinkle in Lena's eyes, like she knew what I was thinking, but she simply turned up the corner of her mouth in a teasing smirk and bent forward. The skirt slipped up her legs, making me imagine my hands as they rose up her thighs just hours ago.

Then, she was done, and I blinked back to reality.

"So, Professor..." Lena winked at me. "Now that you've got us both all dressed up, what are we going to do?"

"Yes. Ahem, exactly." I nodded, furrowing my brow like I'd been thinking about that very carefully. "Well, the thing that occurs to me is that we have a couple of problems to solve." I ticked them off on my fingers. "Harrison will be calling you. And he's probably not going to be patient. Which means that he'll want to see you again tonight."

Lena nodded, seating herself on the couch as I walked past. She crossed her knees, the innocent movement innocently sensual. I faced the window, which looked out from nineteen floors up. While I was gone my student had pulled back the curtains, and the early afternoon sunlight bounced off the glass and steel and concrete frames of the buildings around us.

"We need to stop Principal Clayton, by any means necessary. And we need to figure out how to un-condition you, as well as the other girls. Do what we can to return you to your previous lives..."

I said this last lightly, trying not to lay any emphasis on it. I didn't want to upset Lena, asking her to think about her past. When I'd asked her about it before, in her room at the Academy party, she had been unable to remember. In fact, I'd accidentally triggered some part of her conditioning.

You've got to be careful, I reminded myself. You have no idea what kinds of traps and triggers Joseph has got wrapped around her mind. It made me imagine a laser field, from one of those heist movies. The kind of spinning, sweeping field of deadly lights that guard a precious piece of art. One wrong step, and I might trigger the alarms.

"And we need to fix the issue with your girlfriend..." Lena added gently. When I looked over at her, she wasn't meeting my eyes.

I shrugged. "I don't know if that's something that can be fixed," I said softly. But I didn't want to talk about it. "So," I went on briskly. "It seems to me that we have one weekend to take action before our opponents know what we're doing. Well, a little more than half a weekend. Come Monday morning, you'll be expected in classes and I'll be expected in my office. But I don't intend to ever go back to that place as a pawn in Clayton's game."

Lena took a deep breath, then nodded firmly.

"Good." I rubbed my hands together, then entwined my fingers. I gestured with my clasped hands. "So, we go on the offensive. We deal with Harrison first, almost like a practice round. Then Clayton. Then we undo all his work. Simple as one, two, three."

The young woman's soft laugh surprised me.

"What?"

"I just love how confident you are." Her voice was unabashedly impressed. "It makes me feel like everything is going to be alright."

I'm glad one of us feels that way, I thought. But I just forced a quick grin. "It will be. Just so long as we follow a solid plan."

"And what plan is that?"

I paused. Then, I remembered something. Something Natalie had mentioned last night at the party. I turned. My mind spun back, taking me to my first morning at the academy, peering through a classroom window.

"Tell me about your online classes..."

* * *

"You know I can't tell you that." Danielle's voice was apologetic, but firm. "I didn't mind keeping an eye out for you, watching that St. John guy in the lobby. But I can't just give out guests' room numbers." She frowned slightly, like I should have known better than to ask.