Coming Into His Own Ch. 03byPhantomOp©
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thomas takes Angelica to London
LEGALESE: Don't read this if you are underage, if it is illegal in your area, if it is offensive to you, or if you cannot distinguish fiction from reality.
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Coming Into His Own, Chapter 3
Copyright © 2012 by PhantomOp
Many thanks to everyone that has given constructive criticism as well as those who have offered words of encouragement.
Thomas walked out of the bank's safety deposit area, passport in hand, and asked the banker, "Is there anything else that I should handle before taking this London trip?" Mary Cowen, the bank vice president, assured him that with his credit card, passport, and traveler's cheques, he should be in excellent shape financially. Thomas thanked Ms. Cowen for her assistance, and then left for his appointment with the trustee.
After a short drive, and a ride up the elevator, Thomas found himself in the ornate lobby of Carnahan, Grayson, and Townsend. The receptionist smiled as she saw him approaching her desk. "Hi, Thomas! It's good to see you again. Mr. Carnahan is just finishing his conference call, and will be right with you."
James Carnahan, "Big Jim" to his friends and closest clients, had been the attorney that handled the wrongful death settlement against the railroad in the accident that claimed Jonathan Crawford's life. Julie naturally thought of Big Jim when she needed a trustee for her late husband's estate. He had been kind, considerate, and supportive through what could have been a painful ordeal.
"Thomas, good to see you, son! I hear you're taking a trip to England."
Thomas smiled as he stood up and shook his trustee's hand. Very few people were physically imposing to him, but Big Jim made Thomas feel like a small child. Rumor had it that James Carnahan had been a top contender for a first round draft pick in the NFL, until the game against Alabama where he sustained a career-ending knee injury. Carnahan brought the same focus and determination to win to his legal career, earning himself grudging respect from his opponents, many of whom called him "that big bastard" -- but never to his face.
"Mr. Carnahan, --"
"Thomas, please, we've been over this before. My father was Mr. Carnahan."
"OK, Big Jim, I didn't want to seem disrespectful. Mom tells me that you have a stack of papers for me to sign, and some instructions on how to handle my accounts."
Carnahan gestured towards his office. "Why don't you come with me, and we'll go over everything so you can be sure that I have earned my keep." Thomas followed the lawyer to his corner office, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of a desk that would dwarf most people, but looked like it fit Big Jim perfectly.
Carnahan opened his desk drawer and extracted a thick file, placing it on his desk. For the next hour, the two men went over figures, the lawyer explaining to Thomas how his accounts were structured, what investments had been made on his behalf, and where the net worth of his fund currently stood. Thomas had no idea that his financial state was as good as it was. Sure, he knew there was a trust fund that had been set up for his benefit, but as Big Jim went over the details, Thomas was floored.
"So, Thomas, we took the initial amount and divided it into five different investments: investments tied to the prime rate, gold, and stocks in Pfizer, Apple, and Google. In addition to the initial gold investment, your mother made a purchase every year on your birthday. The result of all this financial wizardry is that your initial investment of five million dollars has grown to $27,768,416.80 as of close of trading yesterday." Carnahan laughed as he saw the expression on Thomas' face.
"What's wrong, son, didn't you know you were rich?"
"Wow, Big Jim, how can I ever repay you for this?"
Carnahan smiled as he answered, "Don't you worry, Thomas. That amount represents the balance after our fees and taxes have been paid. Now, I need you to sign a few important documents, and then you can get started on your trip. The first is a signature card for the bank, which turns control of the checking account over to you. Then there is a form permitting Carnahan, Grayson, and Townsend to continue representing you in handling your trust fund and legal needs, should you so desire. Lastly, your signature is required to activate your credit card." Carnahan slid the papers across the desk to Thomas, along with a checkbook, debit card, and a portfolio containing a credit card.
Thomas signed the papers, happy to have Big Jim continue overseeing his finances. He then picked up the credit card to sign it, and noticed that it was different from other cards he had seen. Where most cards were made of plastic, this one seemed to be made of some sort of metal. Thomas wondered about the card as he signed it -- What the hell kind of card is made of metal? At least it should be easy to keep from breaking it!
Carnahan looked at Thomas studying the card and said, "That's made out of titanium. It is light in weight, but not in spending ability. You're holding an American Express Centurion card. Those things don't grow on trees -- most people never even see one. Hell, son, I've never seen one before yours arrived!"
Thomas thanked Big Jim profusely as the lawyer put away the paper work and escorted him back to the lobby. Carnahan shook hands with the young man, once again wishing him well on his trip. As Thomas rode the elevator down to the lobby, he thought about how he would manage to get Angelica on the same flight as him. Well, money isn't going to be a problem, that's for sure! But I still don't know who to contact to make last minute arrangements.
As he started his car and began his drive home, Thomas continued to worry at the problem of getting a ticket for Angelica. He finally decided to ask for help, and called Big Jim's office. The receptionist informed Thomas that Mr. Carnahan was in with another client, but she would certainly have him return the call as soon as he was finished. Frustrated, he thanked the receptionist and disconnected the call, turning on the radio as he drove. The next song was 'Rockstar" by Nickelback, and he almost changed the station, until the lyrics sank into his consciousness.
Thomas tried to recall what Big Jim had said about his credit card. He recalled the man telling him that it was not any ordinary card; in fact, it was rather rare. Thomas didn't know if it was "a credit card that's got no limit", but maybe a call to cardholder services would help steer him in the proper direction.
Thomas pulled over to the curb, got his card out of his wallet, and dialed the toll-free number on the back. He was a bit amazed when instead of an automated voice menu system, the phone was answered by a live person.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Crawford, and thank you for calling American Express. My name is George Marino, and I will be your personal concierge. What may I assist you with today, sir?"
"Ummmm... I'm kinda new to all this. I have a first class ticket to London that was purchased for me, but now I need an extra ticket for someone joining me. Is that something you can help me figure out how to arrange?"
"By all means, Mr. Crawford. All I need is the information from the original ticket, and I can make the necessary calls to arrange companion travel. Do you have ground transportation arranged already, or shall I handle that as well?"
"No, I haven't arranged anything yet. I would appreciate you handling that. Just a second, I'll get the ticket."
Thomas pulled out his ticket and read off the flight information. The concierge assured him that he would handle everything, and then asked for the name of his companion. Thomas sheepishly admitted that he did not know Angelica's last name. The concierge told him that he would begin work on the companion ticket, but would not be able to complete the reservation until he had her personal information. Thomas wished that he had gotten Angelica's phone number, instead of having only given her his. Thomas told the concierge that he would call back with the information as soon as he had it, before ending the call.
Damnit, why didn't I think about getting her number last night instead of just giving Emil a card with mine? There's no telling when she is likely to -- Thomas' train of thought came to an abrupt stop as his cell phone started ringing. He looked at the display before answering it, and saw that the call was from an A HOWARD. Angelica? No, it couldn't be.
"Hello, this is Thomas."
"Thomas! Hi, it's Angie! I talked to Emil and told him that I needed to take a two-week leave of absence, since you said you weren't sure how long and everything. I am still supposed to go with you, right?"
"Yes, Angie, as a matter of fact, I was just on the phone with the AmEx concierge, and he said that he would need some information from you in order to complete booking your flight. I've got a couple things I need to do before we leave tomorrow, so would you mind calling him?"
"O-Okay... What's the number?"
"Hang on a sec -- I'll text you the number. His name is George, and he'll take care of everything. And if there's anything else you need for the trip, just tell him, and he will take care of it."
"I'll call right now. I'm so excited for tomorrow! I feel like a princess in a fairy tale."
Thomas chuckled and said goodbye, telling her that he would see her in the morning. Putting his phone and ticket away, he started the car again and headed out to buy some new luggage. All that he had in the way of luggage was an old, battered suitcase. Thomas figured he was going to need more than that for a trip to England.
* * * * *
Thomas woke early the next morning, after having slept fitfully throughout the night. His dreams were all over the place, some focusing on the flight with Angie, some featuring his arrival in London. One dream in particular disturbed him. In this dream, a tall man was speaking passionately in a foreign language to a group of men and women. The man was remarkable for his striking features, large handlebar-type moustache, and piercing eyes. As the dream progressed, Thomas was unable to understand the language, but the ideas that came to him were of power, conflict, control, and impending war. He began to sense that the war being discussed was not warfare as he had learned of it in school, but war on a far deeper and broader scale than any other human conflict in history. The dream ended as the tall man turned his gaze towards Thomas, as though he could sense his presence. The words "You do not belong here yet, választott" rang in Thomas' ears as he awoke with a start.
Thomas pondered the dream for a moment, but as he tried to recall details, it faded from memory. Shrugging his shoulders, Thomas got up and got ready for his flight. After showering and dressing in his suit, he carried his luggage down to the front porch to await the limo. Julie Crawford came down, wrapped in her long terrycloth robe, to see her son off and wish him well on his trip.
As Julie hugged her son goodbye, the limousine pulled up. Thomas had seen limos before, but never anything with this level of grandeur. Sitting at the curb was a Rolls Royce Phantom stretch limousine, complete with liveried chauffer. Talk about going all out for a limo! he thought. The chauffer opened the door for him, then after getting Thomas settled, stowed his luggage and got behind the wheel again. Momentary panic set in when Thomas realized that he did not know where Angie lived.
"Excuse me, but I don't have my companion's address." Thomas felt like an idiot having to admit that.
"Your concierge supplied me with all the pertinent information, Mr. Crawford. We should be arriving in about fifteen minutes. Shall I call ahead to let her know when to expect the car, or would you prefer to handle that, sir?"
Thomas shook his head in amazement. I could get used to this! Nice to have someone looking after the little details. I will have to find a way to thank George for his help. "I think I'll call her, thank you."
Putting up the privacy divider, Thomas took out his phone and dialed Angie. "Hi, Angie, it's Thomas. We should be there in about ten to fifteen minutes." He listened, and then responded, "Yes, I said 'we'. My concierge arranged ground transportation. Okay, I'll see you in a little bit."
When the limo arrived, Angie squealed in delight. "Ohmygod, that is so romantic! It reminds me of that scene in Pretty Woman, well, except for the part where I'd have to be the hooker, that is!" Angie blushed as she made that last comment.
Oh, I bet you'd make a fine little sex toy! Thomas thought to himself. As she climbed into the back of the limousine, Angie gave Thomas a smoldering look that promised to make the trip much more than he had already imagined it would be. Thomas noticed with great appreciation as her skirt rode up on her thighs, a tent starting to form in his trousers. However, there was little time to do anything about his desires, as the trip from Angie's apartment to the airport was only eleven minutes. He noticed as they got out and checked their luggage that Angie was constantly touching him; her hand caressed his forearm, her hip brushed against his leg, or her head leaned on his shoulder.
Thomas and Angie made their way to the first-class counter for the airline to pick up Angie's ticket. The reservation agent asked Thomas for the credit card used to purchase the ticket, and when he produced the card Angie's eyes grew wide. "Thomas, is that a..." her voice trailed off as she stared at the card. Finding her voice again, she continued, "Is that a black AmEx card?"
Thomas grinned at her. "What's wrong, Angie? Doesn't everyone have one?"
Angie slapped his shoulder playfully. "You're kidding, right? The only other time I saw one of those was when Chad Kroeger came into the restaurant. I'm impressed!" She curled her arms around his, smiling up at him.
Once the reservation clerk handed Thomas the ticket, they headed through screening and arrived at their gate. The gate clerk for the airline looked over their tickets, and then informed them that they would be in the first boarding group. Minutes later, they were ushered aboard the plane and shown to their places. Unlike the first class of most airlines, this plane had sleeper compartments for their passengers. Thomas wondered about that, until the flight attendant explained that the flight was seven hours long. He was suddenly very grateful for the extra bit of both luxury and privacy the compartments provided, considering his restless night's sleep.
Passenger boarding completed, and after everyone had settled into his or her places, the PA system on the plane came to life. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. I want to welcome you aboard flight VS018 service from New York to London. Once we get airborne today, our flight time will be seven hours; currently in London, the winds are out of the south at 6 MPH, excellent visibility, some thundershowers, and the temperature is 22 degrees Centigrade, which is about 72 degrees Fahrenheit. We'll get back to you en route just as soon as we have more information; once again, welcome aboard."
Thomas sat back and relaxed as the plane took off, feeling Angie squeeze his hand as they became airborne. Soon, the flight attendants began circulating through the cabin, checking on the comfort and needs of the passengers. Thomas was only partially awake at the time the attendant came to his compartment, and he heard Angie asking about how to ensure privacy while they slept. Had he been more awake, he would have seen the two women exchange knowing glances as the flight attendant gave Angie directions on closing off their compartment.
Just as he started to drift off to sleep, Thomas began having an extremely erotic dream. He was lying back on a bed that gently moved underneath him, while hands began to remove his clothing. As each bit of his skin was exposed, Thomas felt it being licked and kissed very sensuously. He looked down in his dream and saw Angie kissing her way down his belly, pausing only to lock eyes with him before engulfing the head of his cock in her mouth. Oh shit, that feels good! I know I thought she was hot at the restaurant, but I never expected her to be this talented! Thoughts of Angie at the restaurant on his birthday began to tickle away at some elusive memory, something he knew was important, but couldn't seem to bring into focus.
Trying to recall that important memory disrupted Thomas' dream, and he found himself waking up, yet still experiencing the sensations of warmth and wetness surrounding his cock. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of Angie's blonde head slowly bobbing up and down in his lap. "Angie?"
She looked up at him, moving her hair aside as she continued, and Thomas saw her slide her lips back down his cock, the warmth and wetness of her mouth a mere hint of the heat that shone in her eyes. Lifting her head from his now-glistening cock, she said in a smoky whisper, "I'm glad you woke up, Thomas. I would have hated for you to sleep through the main event." Angie stood up, and slowly stripped for him, her eyes never leaving his. Thomas watched raptly as she shed her top, her perfect breasts once more exposed to his view. Angie then slid her skirt around, unzipped it, and let it pool to her feet. All that she was left wearing was a blue lacy thong, which she peeled off and tossed aside.
"Ever since your birthday dinner, all I have been able to dream about is being with you." She moved to stand next to Thomas and started tugging his pants and boxers the rest of the way off him. "It's funny how you've made such an impression on my mind, especially since I usually go for guys a couple years older than me, rather than a couple years younger." Angie folded the pants, set them aside, then climbed onto the bed, and straddled Thomas. "I don't know what it is, if it's the flight, the trip, or the idea of being whisked away, but I am just so horny for you." Taking his cock in her hand, Angie rubbed the head against her slit, covering it with her juices. "I have just GOT to have you inside me now!"
Just before Angie sank herself down onto his cock, Thomas heard the PA system come to life once again. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen, my name is Russell Harris, on behalf of myself and the rest of your New York based flight crew, I want to welcome you aboard flight VS018 service from New York to London. We are currently level at 37,000 feet, and that will probably be our final cruising altitude today. The route of flight will take us..." The rest of the announcement faded from his consciousness as the feeling of Angie's cunt slowly engulfing his cock brought his attention into sharp focus.
Placing his hands on her hips, Thomas eased her down until she was sitting on him, his cock buried fully inside her. Slowly they began to move together, rising and falling, thrusting and withdrawing, letting each sensation linger before chasing the next. Angie guided his hands to her breasts, encouraging him to cup them and knead them, as she placed her hands flat on the bed to either side of his hips. She started to grind on him shamelessly, a naked cowgirl in a mid-air pornographic rodeo. As Angie's arousal grew, she began to ride Thomas harder, lifting nearly all the way off his cock before slamming herself back down, impaling herself again and again. Thomas mauled her breasts, pinching and lightly twisting her nipples.