Carson Evolved Ch. 04

She leaned in, smiling at him coyly, and murmured, "All I need tonight is a bed, and even that's negotiable."

"Now that's just not fair," he said with a smile. "We'll have plenty of time for that, but I've got plans for us this afternoon. Let's get this stuff unpacked and I can begin showing you just how much you mean to me."

It didn't take long before they were unloaded and back in the truck. A few minutes later, they arrived at the first stop in Carson's plan to pamper Helena. She held his hand and followed him to the counter, where he was greeted warmly by the young lady behind the counter.

"Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Sérénité. How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon, Janet," he said after a peek at her name tag. "You should have a reservation for my wife, Helena Jayne, in a few minutes. That's 'Jayne,' with a -y." He missed the look of surprise, followed by affection, that crossed Helena's face when she heard him refer to her as his wife.

Janet clicked a couple of keys and pulled up the reservation. Her eyes widened a little, and she quickly called for a couple of attendants. "I have it right here, sir. We'll take very good care of your wife. She's booked for the rest of the afternoon, sir. Would you like some refreshments while you wait? Could I interest you in a massage or other service?"

"No, that won't be necessary, Janet. I have some errands to run. All I ask is that you treat her like she's the most important person in the building. Because as far as I'm concerned, she is. Whatever she wants today, she gets. There's no question of cost, so don't let her skimp on anything, okay? I want her relaxed and looking like a million credits. Massage, mani-pedi, hair, makeup—you get the idea. She's also going to need a new dress with matching shoes and accessories for dinner this evening at Emiliani's. Our reservation is at 6:00, so she should be ready by 5. I assume you have a personal stylist on staff, with a shopper or two?" Janet assured him that they did, and Carson nodded, satisfied that his wishes were understood.

He turned to Helena, who was doing her best not to cry at the lavish treatment Carson was showing her. He took her hands and raised them to his lips. Quietly he said, "This is my way of making up for the way I treated you. You deserve so much more, and I'm going to see that you get it. Relax and enjoy yourself. I have some things to take care of while you're getting pampered, but I think you'll appreciate what I have in mind." Then he stepped closer and gently kissed her lips. "I really do love you, you know," he softly stated with a smile.

Helena's heart was bursting, and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Her mind was made up; she was going to take advantage of his generosity to be the best version of herself she could. In her mind, he deserved that much at least. She managed to tell him that she loved him as well before the attendants took her away and he made his way out to embark on the second part of his plan.

Driving away, Carson's heart was lighter than it had been in some time. Before he learned of Orriri's existence, he'd felt like his marriage was in trouble. He'd even begun to suspect that Mara was having an affair. Since joining the project, his life had undergone significant changes, and he'd had trouble keeping up. He was naturally a cautious man and the pace of events and magnitude of the turmoil they caused had been a lot to accept.

It certainly wasn't a hardship to share his life with his wives. His life would have been magnificent with any of them individually; with all three, he felt that he was truly blessed. Add in the love of the woman he'd just left, and he couldn't imagine things getting better. No, the trouble was, he could imagine things getting worse. For months now, he'd seemingly gone along with things. Beneath his smile of acceptance, though, he'd held in reserve a small amount of doubt that it could all really work. For some time, he'd harbored thoughts that jealousy would rear its ugly head at some point and disrupt the life he was building. That was the last thing he wanted, because it meant that someone was going to be hurt, and he never wanted to hurt any of the women who'd pledged their lives to him.

Last night had been a turning point for him. Going along with Calla's request for his "services," he'd felt awkward. Watching how she acted towards her husband had been uncomfortable for him, right up until he came to the realization that he couldn't control how other people reacted. He couldn't, or shouldn't, try to outthink every other person. They were responsible for their own agency, and as long as Carson wasn't forcing things on anyone, they deserved the right to control their own lives. As Edwards had said, Carson was only offering options. Seeing how much Calla and Kiefer had enjoyed the evening, and more importantly, how they reacted afterwards, had been a big key to his new way of thinking.

Equally important was the connection that he'd forged with Elsa during their time together. His new abilities had been a major surprise and would take some time to become accustomed. He was anxious to explore them further and see what else, if anything, he could do. But there had been a point when Carson felt like he'd "plugged in" to Elsa. Far beyond merely physical, there had been an extended period of time when he'd been able to serve and please her without confusion or guessing, but simply because he knew. No other way expressed it better to describe how he'd simply moved to caress, to kiss, to lick or suck when Elsa needed it. He'd felt her floating in orgasmic bliss and simply held her there. In earlier days, Carson would have felt silly calling it "magical." In light of his newfound abilities, maybe that wasn't so far-fetched.

It was intoxicating to be able to satisfy a woman so thoroughly, which would have been a dangerous temptation for Carson to pursue. Knowing implicitly that he could probably deliver the best night of passion in any woman's life, he might have gone a little crazy "sharing" that skill, but for one thing: he'd also felt a shift in Elsa's spirit.

She'd gone home with him as a bit of fun, and an easy way to dismiss Jordan. By the time they'd finished their love-making, he couldn't think it as less than that, she'd made a decision that even her conscious mind hadn't accepted. It was as if a part of her that had previously been locked away had opened itself to him, and he gladly accepted. For perhaps the first time in his life, Carson had made a decision based, not on extended study, but on his feelings. It was kind of a rush, though he doubted that he'd become an addict. He hadn't changed that much.

His mission while Helena was enjoying the spa was actually something that he'd been contemplating for a while. When Mara had jokingly referred to him adding to his "harem" the previous evening, it hadn't been the first time. At various times in the past few months, his prospective bed partners and mothers of his children had been referred to alternately as "his harem," "his pride," "his bevy of buxom beauties" (that had been Sam's contribution), and a couple of other colorful descriptors. Even back when Xavier had mentioned the lion's pride as an inspiration for the project, the image had sort of stuck in his mind. Something about the idea had bothered him until just recently, when he'd realized that he wanted at a least a symbolic commitment between him and his partners. Old-fashioned as it was, he still liked the fact that he'd given wedding rings to his wives. That they wore his ring was a matter of pride to him, and at least a nominal warning to other men to keep their hands off. But he could only marry three of the women.

After considering the problem, he'd realized that he'd overcomplicated the solution. As a symbol, it didn't need to be linked to any legality. It was an agreement between him and her, a recognition of her acceptance of him. Ironically, the image of the pride had come back around. He felt pride in women wearing his ring, an in doing so, they became members of his "pride." So, he'd commissioned a very special set of rings. He started with ten, only because he had a hard time grasping the concept that he might share his life with even that many women. Each was a stylized version of the head of a lioness, all but one worked in shining cobalt. Each ring was designed so that the wearer's finger protruded from the snarling mouth of the lioness, the lower jaw forming the largest part of the band. The eyes of the lioness contained inset gems; each ring had one eye that contained Carson's ruby birthstone, but the other eye would be specific to the woman who would wear it. Be it a birthstone, or simply her favorite gem, Carson would ensure that it was hers.

The last was just a bit larger than the others, and while it was also mostly cobalt, streaks of yellow gold had been worked in to add definition to the face of the lioness. This was the ring that Carson had created for Helena. When he'd decided on giving his lionesses rings, he'd realized just how much she meant to him, not just as a woman, but also as a valuable resource. She'd naturally shifted into mothering Sam along with her daughters, and though she deferred to Carson in all things, she took her role as matriarch seriously. All of the younger generation took her counsel regarding project matters seriously, and Carson felt that she deserved for him to recognize her before the others for all that she had done, and was doing.

*****

Strolling through the lobby of the spa, Helena felt twenty years younger and giddy as a school-girl. Janet was still on duty, and her mouth dropped in astonishment. "Oh, Mrs. Jayne, you look fabulous! I mean, you were beautiful before, of course, but...wow! You'll be the talk of the crowd at dinner this evening."

Helena flushed at the younger woman's compliment. The last few years had been challenging for her. Her daughters were beautiful, and with Mara married to a man like Carson and ready to start her own family, Helena had begun to feel a little out-of-date. When Carson had joined the project, she'd had high hopes that her dreams would be fulfilled, but his reluctance had only fueled her doubts. She could only hope that Carson would appreciate her as much as Janet did.

Her eye was drawn to the movement of a sleek black outline of a limousine as it pulled up to the door outside. A moment later, she saw the giant figure of Carson's assistant, Edwards, as he opened the passenger door. Carson stepped onto the drive and she flushed anew, even though he couldn't see her yet. As she nervously smoothed non-existent wrinkles from her dress, she noticed what he held in his hand and her mouth went dry. Even from a distance, she instantly recognized the Gliamante flower he carried.

Genetically engineered, when introduced to the market, they had quickly become known simply as lovers' flowers, owing in part to the given name being an anglicized version of the Italian for "lovers." The bush they sprouted from only produced a handful of flowers each year. Their name came from the way that the flowers bloomed on the stalk. Each branch had two blooms, always two different color patterns. The stems of the individual blooms twisted around each other, the leaves and stems creating a pattern that was utterly unique for each stalk, and completely inseparable. As long as the stems remained in close proximity, the flowers could be cut from the branch and transplanted. But if the two blooms were to be separated, they quickly withered and died. If all that weren't enough, the designers had embraced the symbolism of lovers even further. The plant only produced new buds when the pollen from the "male" flower was transferred to the "female" flower. It didn't work if the pollen came from another plant, much to the consternation of amateur horticulturalists nationwide.

They were rare, expensive, fragrant, and incredibly beautiful. And Carson was handing her the most breathtaking example she'd ever seen. The male was iridescent, with shades of blues and purples across its velvety petals. The female was an unbelievable mix of reds, pinks, and whites, with swirls and color gradients that boggled the eye. She looked up from the flowers in astonishment, tears threatening to course down her cheeks. Fortunately, she'd gone ahead with the semi-permanent application, which meant that she'd look as good in the morning as she did right now. Her hair might be another matter, though.

She wanted to say something, really she did. But that was impossible with the lump in her throat. Carson stepped closer to her and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. "You look radiant, my dear. I couldn't ask for a more lovely woman at my side." At his words, she beamed, shyly smelling her flower once again to hide the grin she couldn't quite keep from her lips.

Turning to Janet, Carson thanked the woman, adding a tremendous tip to the bill and offering his thanks to her and the rest of the staff. Helena took the offered arm, and he escorted her to the waiting vehicle.

Edwards gaped at the vision accompanying his employer, momentarily stunned into inaction and forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. Seeing the look on his face, Carson chuckled and said, "I never thought I'd see the day when Edwards was speechless." Then he turned towards his date and said, "Not that I blame him, of course." Helena flushed again.

After a moment, Edwards snapped out of it. With a sheepish grin, he said, "You look amazing, Mrs. Livingstone. It reminded me of something Albert Camus said. 'Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.'" Then he opened the door and held it for the couple.

"There he is!" exclaimed Carson. "I knew you had something special for us."

Helena stepped forward, but before entering the vehicle, she leaned towards the giant and beckoned him closer with a crooked finger. As he leaned towards her, she gently kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she said softly, before climbing into the car.

Carson smiled at the flustered look on the face of his friend, patting his arm before following her into the car.

Dinner that night passed by in a flash, as far as Helena was concerned. Carson was charming and funny, interested in her opinions on many things, and completely relaxed and in command. He ordered for each of them, clearly remembering some of her favorite dishes. She felt very feminine in his presence, and she basked in the attentions of this wonderful man. She was also thankful that she'd decided against foregoing panties this evening. As sexy as the thought was, she'd be regretting it right about now. If she hadn't been a sure thing before dinner, there was no question of it at this point.

They were enjoying some coffee along with a heavenly chocolate dessert when she broached a topic that she'd been waiting to address at the right moment. This seemed as good a time as any.

"Carson, this has been the most amazing date of my life, and I can't wait to see what else you have planned. But I've been meaning to talk about something with you, waiting for the right time."

He looked at her in concern. "That sounds ominous. I hope everything's okay."

Quickly, she grabbed his hand. "Everything's perfect. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so serious. I was just thinking about you, and the future, the project. The Project Social is happening next month."

"The Project Social?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "Sometimes I forget how much about this you don't know. It's an event that's held every four years. It coincides with the annual council meeting. It's kind of a 'coming out' party for people that have reached adulthood or joined the project since the last social. It lets people meet them, see who's available, etc. There's another purpose, though. The golden lines, the genesis families, they get a chance to look for potential matches for their available breeders."

Carson frowned slightly. "You make it sound so clinical, so impersonal."

"Well," she said, "In a lot of ways, it is. Not everyone thinks about the project in such personal terms as you, my dear, hoping to be around to help raise his children. Don't get me wrong, most of the project men are very good men. There are a few, though, who are driven by more...base...considerations." She frowned to herself. "There has definitely been a trend in the last several years towards a less egalitarian perspective of men and women, especially among the younger men. They're expecting women to just jump into bed with them and get pregnant by whatever guy happens along, just because he's part of the project. That's not the way it was supposed to be," she finished.

This definitely wasn't in the proverbial marketing materials that Xavier had provided. It also wasn't the kind of thing Carson liked to hear happened. He loved women in all their forms and flavors, and he would never look at a woman as a breed-sow. "What do you think is causing this?" he asked.

Helena sighed. "I think there's a couple of things going on. The organization has gotten quite large, and for all of our technological advances, it's difficult for the right hand to keep track of the left all the time. I think there has been a degradation of our message, our philosophy, as new breeders enter the program. If I didn't know better, I'd think someone is intentionally subverting the mission of Orriri. The Director has been in charge for quite a while, and he probably will be for some time. But, he's increasingly pressed by different factions to adopt or support policies that have more benefit to the interested party than the project. He's a good man, but he's not the strongest personality. I wonder how much he knows about what's happening these days."

It was concerning news, and Carson was forced to wonder just what he'd involved himself in. "What can we do?"

"That's a little of what I wanted to talk to you about. First of all, you need to prepare for the upcoming council meeting." Seeing the surprise on his face, she smiled and said, "I thought you probably hadn't considered that." She took his hand. "Carson, you're the only living member of your line. You have a right to a seat on the council."

"That doesn't sound so bad," he said. "Probably a bunch of budget resolutions and committee reports, right?"

She shook her head. "There's some of that, true. But the biggest action is considering match petitions."

"What's that?"

"There are a number of versions, but it's essentially a formal request to create a bond between two breeders. There're lots of reasons. Some of them are like what happened with you. A breeder meets someone and falls in love, and the family wants permission for the rogue to be added to the project. Others are more like old feudal matches. Most of the families have business concerns and interests that cover a wide range of industries. Maybe two families decide to merge their interests in an area, so they propose a marriage between the third son of this one and the sixth daughter of that one. Sometimes, it's just a question of needing genetic input from a new direction. If different families get too close, it defeats the purpose of the project. There are some lines, like mine, for example, that seem predisposed to having only boys or only girls. That can be limiting when it comes to spreading their genes around, so a different line is introduced. It's all very complicated, and it is all heavily debated by the council."

He smiled and said, "I guess it's not quite so simple as 'boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, boy and girl have babies,' is it?"

"Not for us," she said. "Well, not for most of us," she said with a wink. "You seem to be something special. It's hard for a woman to not fall in love with you."