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"Yes Ms. Marks."
"Every word I speak to you is the absolute truth, isn't it Petey?"
"Yes Ms. Marks."
"The word and concept of resistance doesn't exist, so doing as I say is all there is."
"Yes Ms. Marks."
"Tell me about the lottery that required Jonathan and others to be sent away."
"The lottery was about the expansion and the new parent company we're apart of with other small companies. Our parent company wanted a building in England brought up to specifications, ready to be worked in. Our company and another were responsible for helping to get our own buildings ready to work in, and it was a cheaper option for the parent company as some of us-"
"Cheaper even with the cost of booking round trip flights?"
"Yes, Ms. Marks. Cheaper and confidential. They were flown in on a jet of our parent company. Some from the US would have been sent over to install their new software anyway. I had a standing bet on a soccer match that I lost with the other company, and for losing, I volunteered only my people to be sent to the place out in the middle of nowhere."
"Including Jonathan?"
"Yes, Jonathan, Mark, Jesse Cand-"
"You sent Jessica too?" She almost screamed.
"Yes Ms. Marks."
He ceased talking and thinking, while her thoughts were going a mile a minute. No matter how tranced and inclined Jon had been toward Sabrina, she didn't trust him around a former flame like Jesse. She wanted kicked herself for spending so much time building Jesse's susceptibility and heroine character that she never programmed a repellent suggestion to keep her away from Jon. It burned even more how it could be interpreted as a win for Jesse and Psiana, separated from her hero and weaker rival by an ocean.
As much as she was willing to risk a stinging slap across Bevy's face waking him, she kept her composure. She'd find other ways to make him suffer.
"When are they supposed to come back?"
"It depends on their work. One to two weeks, maybe."
"Why the hell did you have to send Jesse along?"
"I sent her to match her up with Jon."
"You...what?" The hypnotist's low and dangerous tone would've sent chills down the spine of anyone else present and fully conscious.
"I sent Jesse with Jon because I thought they'd go well together."
"That man is mine you bastard," Sabrina sharply uttered, not caring how possessive she sounded. She wanted her words to cut deep into Bevy, but he replied in the same monotone.
"Yes, Ms. Marks. Jon is yours."
Bevy was spared some immediate torture for the fact that that was first time someone besides herself and Jon acknowledged that he was hers, even among those in Sabrina's constant thrall. As much as she preferred her affairs private, it felt good hearing it.
"Listen carefully Petey. You are going to pay dearly for your actions."
"Yes, Ms. Marks. I am going to pay dearly for my actions."
"Yes you are. Are you going out to England yourself?"
"Yes Ms. Marks. Tomorrow."
"I have a recording to give you that you will listen to tonight, and every night that you are gone, to help remind you how your subconscious only knows obedience to me, no matter what I say or command."
"Thank you Ms. Marks."
"You're welcome you son of a bitch," she smiled condescendingly at him. "Wait here."
She walked back to her office to retrieve one of her audio CDs meant to deeply condition, and delivered it to his waiting hand before she woke him and his secretary. They only remembered Sabrina wishing him a safe trip over. The walk back to the office was filled with creative suffering for Bevy, and what to do about her Hero situation. Something would be done, she at least knew that, but despite the dominant high she was on, she was scared it would fade and she would be trying to fight sleep more instead of coming up with a solution.
Her phone rang before she could sit down.
"Hello?"
"Is this Sabrina Marks?"
"Speaking."
"Afternoon," the voice said, making her check the time to see it was just after 12. "Not sure if you got my message already, but I'm Patricia Task, Jon's mother. I was hoping we could talk. I'm at the Sundance grill right now, not far from where he works. If you didn't already have lunch plans..."
"Sure, I can be there in a few minutes," Sabrina interjected, knowing it was futile to run from this problem, not knowing if it would be a problem.
"Wonderful. I'll see you soon."
Sabrina considered the strangeness of Patricia's calling. It seemed strange for her experience with most Americans, but it sounded like something the women in her family might do, which scared her a little. The walk to the car and the short drive over, all she had on her mind is how or what she knew of Sabrina. The only thing she could promise herself was to not capitulate to this woman, or back down, maintaining the confidence gained from having destroyed Bevy's will even more.
Though she dressed similar, Patricia Task seemed easy to pick out of the business crowd. Not just because she was sitting alone, or because her facial similarities were easy to link to Jon, but she look like she sounded on the phone - measured, composed, an immediately identifiable strength. She looked like the strongest woman in the room, next to Sabrina. It was no surprise at all that Jon was birthed from this woman.
Sabrina seemed easy to pick out as Patricia raised her hand toward a woman she'd never seen before, but sure she was there to meet.
"Ms. Marks, I presume."
"You presume correctly, Mrs. Task."
"Please, call me Patricia."
"Only if you call me Sabrina."
The two women exchanged a handshake and pleasantries across the table, their eyes assessing all they could about each other. The silence didn't last long as the waiter for Patricia's table brought her order, and took Sabrina's. Seeing how good the chicken parmesan looked in-person, it was an easy choice. Patricia delicately began cutting her meal as she began more dialog.
"So, I don't mean to make or imply a bad first impression, but you look a little sleep deprived, dear. Are you ok?"
"I have been a little busy lately. I wish it would have caught up with me after I'd met you."
"Not a problem dear, happens to the best of us. But speaking of 'met' or 'meeting,' I'm sure you're curious to know why I asked you to lunch."
"I'd...be lying if I didn't say I wasn't." Sabrina chose her words carefully.
"Well...I'd stopped by Jon's apartment a few hours ago, to drop off a surprise for him, and though he doesn't like when I do it, to tidy up a little. I called him to let him know, but got his cellphone's voicemail and heard that he'd be out of the country for a little while. That certainly teaches a mother to pick her moments better to surprise her child with an unexpected visit."
"Where are you visiting from, if you don't mind my asking?"
"A small town you probably haven't heard of, about two hours away from here. I'm semi-retired from academic work and was honestly hoping to catch him and catch up."
"Teaching?"
"And some consulting. I was a principal last time I was working full time."
"Though I'm just meeting you, part of me assumes you had a successful tenure," Sabrina spoke genuinely.
"I like to measure success by how well those under me, especially my students have done. I'm pretty pleased for the most part."
"So Jonathan's mother," she said to herself.
"I can appreciate that measurement too. I do consulting myself; it is hard to feel successful if the ones you're helping aren't."
Patricia shook her head in agreement, but verbally pressed on something else.
"The type of consulting you do seems interesting. I've never heard of 'techload counseling' before."
Sabrina smiled. "It's not a term I would've chosen; very experimental and fancy for what amounts to helping the well-being engineers and people in tech-fields deal with heavy workloads, in-house and on-site counseling. My background is in therapy and psychology; what I do has become something of a necessary addition where I work, suggested by a manager there, and I'm starting to think it should be standard practice the more I see of the field. Their idea of extending work with crunch-times, overtime, with the stress of questionable pay and job security; even if our company is better than most, it's pretty ridiculous in my eyes."
"The way my son works at times, I don't doubt you." Patricia said over a glass of sparkling water.
"I found your card in his apartment..."
"Yes, we have worked together." Parsing her words, Sabrina wondered if she should've referred to Jon the way everyone but her does.
"...specifically four of them, in his bedroom. Along with your driver's license, strangely enough." Patricia finished, having no problem dropping the pretenses.
Quickly checking her purse, she looked in her wallet to find it missing. Patricia gracefully reached across the table to give it back. Sabrina had nothing witty to say to Patricia, so she only confirmed things with an even "Yes."
An even smile formed at Patricia's lips.
"Sabrina, I'm not here to chew you out, but I am here to speak frankly."
The redhead shook her head, her posture becoming straighter, ready to fully engage with her lunch companion. "I hope it doesn't offend you that I prefer the same."
Patricia's smile and respect for Jon's lover deepened. "Let me say first of all say that had I reached Jon first, I would've given your license to him knowing he'd get it to you as soon as he could. Returning it to you personally does serve as an excellent excuse for meeting you though."
The waiter returned with Sabrina's food. "A delicious excuse," Sabrina joked as she began eating herself.
"Jon tells me a lot, but not everything. And yet still, a mother seems to find out things. He's mentioned a girl, off-hand in the past. It was always vague and it seemed like there was something that didn't work out at one point. Like his father, he never said anything about it and can keep his emotions well-hidden at times, but a mother can still tell. Some of that happiness has come back to him the last few times we talked, the special, extra sort of enthusiasm I only hear when he's involved with someone, and knowing my son, that's not very often. If that happiness comes from you, I thank you for making him happy. That being said, I'd like to get to know the quality of the woman my son is seeing."
"Please believe me when I tell you Patricia, I very much appreciate your candidness, but to be frank myself, it does seem a little concerning when a mother requests a meeting such as this. It could give most women he could be dating the impression of an overbearing mother, for...future considerations."
"To which I would have to convince them that I'm not, though I will have to admit that I am protective of my son. I do notice that he doesn't seem to go for just any woman though. Has my visit given you pause in regards to Jon?"
"No, it hasn't."
"Then I don't necessarily mind the risk I took."
That made Sabrina laugh for some reason. She was realizing that the Task family seemed like an interesting bunch if Jon and his mother were anything to go by, fascinatingly straight-forward in their ways, and people you'd want to keep company with in the right context (and maybe people you wouldn't want to make enemies out of).
The ladies continued their late-running lunch with a small dessert, compliments of the waiter hoping one of the pair would be unattached. Both happily answered they were, and he cordially stated how it was still worth doing something extra for beauties like them. They took the compliments well before turning their attention back to each other, talking more about themselves, a little about Jon. She found herself opening up to Patricia in more ways than they expected. Much to Patricia's delight, she found qualities in Sabrina she would've loved to instill in a daughter if she ever had one. Discussing the men in their lives was fun, since it amounted to often speaking of the same kind of man.
Learning about some of the things Jon wasn't yet prone to telling her seemed useful, and Jon continued to make his mother proud for Sabrina reported how gentlemanly he courted the previous woman and her, even if their relationship began a bit strained. Sabrina dared not give Patricia all the torrid, sublime details of how they got together; she wasn't even sure Jon could readily remember it all. Her guard was dropped so far that she'd let it slip that Jon had gone to England under circumstances she was not happy with. Patricia sensed it was the older woman and plainly inquired.
"Are you going to go over and see him?"
"What...makes you think that?"
"It's sort of written all over your face, dear, like something you're set on doing that you don't know yet. I did the same with Jon's father after a big fight before we were married. Years later, I know I did the right thing. I won't say it's thee right thing with you and him, but I wouldn't consider it a wrong course of action."
Sabrina's answer was silence and consideration.
"If the ticket is too costly for such short notice, I'd be willing to help you out."
"No, thank you for the offer Patricia, but no. If I do make it over, I'll take care of everything. And I hope you believe me that I do care about your son. He's a good man, quite possibly the best I've ever known, and I have his best interests at heart."
"I did have my doubts before. I'm happy to say they're mostly dispelled."
"Mostly?"
"No impression is perfect, or ever complete so soon. I have a very positive outlook on you at least, but as I've seen with many other relationships, there's meeting the rest of your family at some point."
A collection of Marks and Tasks in the same room was Sabrina's next thought. Unwilling to tell Patricia how interested she was in that idea, she simply nodded understanding.
***
"Petey, are you there?"
"Yes Ms. Marks, I am here."
"Good. You are ready to start paying for your actions."
"Yes Ms. Marks. I am ready."
"You're going to call the airlines you're flying out from and book an extra ticket, first class if it's available, for me to accompany you to England, and my hotel accommodations and other things I might want paid for from your own personal credit card or bank account. You will chastise yourself for waiting so late to do this and forgetting that you arranged a consultant slash counselor to monitor your employees from a distance, without their knowledge. You will not tell anyone that I am in England when we arrive; in-fact, you will forget that fact altogether. Do you understand my instructions, Petey?"
"Yes Ms. Marks, I understand."
"Repeat what you will do for me."
She listened carefully while packing a bag at her apartment. After seeing Patricia off after lunch, she called in to work to declare she was taking the next few days off, on top of the personal days she pre-arranged for the family wedding. She also listened in as Bevy made calls to the airlines and to a hotel a small distance away from where everyone was staying and working, confirming for herself that her arrangements were properly made.
She smiled as she packed for what was going to be a longer than expected trip, but more fun, her witchy attire atop everything else in her bags as she envisioned the fun to come. Sending Bevy off to do his own preparations for crossing the Atlantic, she slipped under her covers at 2:30pm to start making up for the loss of sleep, and so she'd be mentally refreshed for the next scene, smiling throughout her dreams that she'd ensure would come true.
***
"My mother did what?" An incredulous Jon asked.
"It's fine, Jonathan. It was nothing more than getting to know one another over lunch."
"More like vetting, which is her occasional habit when it comes to my love-life. Normal people, or normal kids don't go through this."
"On the contrary. Trust me, it's not just your parents. And it's not like she was the only one doing the vetting. Information flowed freely that afternoon, much of it should prove...useful, in time."
The video quality over Skype was clear enough for Jon to see that signature twinkle in her eye, like someone's mind was going to be, or had just been adjusted.
"You didn't...I mean, you didn't try to..."
"Hypnotize your Mom?"
"...yeah..." There was something satisfying about letting him wonder if she extended her charming personality toward his mother, or even the how, with dozens of ways Sabrina could've done it from across the table. She let the wonder last for long, quiet seconds.
"No, I didn't. A tempting challenge, I admit, someone with that kind of moxy and fire in them. But I respect those qualities in Patricia. As much as I can respect them in her little boy though, I love setting them aside to introduce a male-proper state; she didn't lock her son up fast enough before this temptress lured him out to play..."
Jon looked away from the camera and Sabrina's chuckling, staring into space for a moment to imagine his 15 or 16 year old self living in the same neighborhood as a young Sabrina of the same age. Having her eye on the inexperienced and overly shy teen, being led out to wherever she wanted for whatever she wanted, unable to say no whenever she fixed her blue eyes on him or spoke suggestively. He didn't linger on the younger slave he could've been to Sabrina, just so he didn't give her any more ideas.
"Sorry about not being-"
"You've apologized enough at the beginning of the call, dear. It did irk me at first, but you are forgiven. Now stop it before I make you stop."
A fresh, competitive spark ignited from her comment. She saw it as clearly as he felt it. He didn't challenge her directly, but still felt the need to comment.
"It's too bad you can't get at adult Jon who's too far away to be lured."
"Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan..." she tsked as many times as she intoned his name. "Technology as advanced as it is would aid my magical charms so well. This video chat gives you a glimpse of so many things to take you over with, I'd only need you to focus on one. The curve of my breasts," she said as she ran her hand over the material over her chest, "lovely hands and lacquered fingernails," as she waved them theatrically at the cam, "lips that form the shape of your thoughts, that your lips want to conform to," a single nail circled her lips, "or eyes, ocean-wide, that surround you as you swim in their depths on a mental vacation like no other..."
Jon could feel her hypnotic tease working, wondering how far she'd take things, not letting himself sink easily for testing his own resistance on a fruitless whim.
"But then again, you've already succumbed to every last focal point I just mentioned, and more. I'm not really sure I need to do anything. Just mentioning those things should have you running back, looking to take the first flight out. You'd love to ext-."
Mid-sentence, a pause struck the mesmerist, the gears of one seduction turning toward modifications for another.
"You ok?"
"Sorry, got side-tracked there for a second."
"Nice to know that happens even to the likes of you."
"I'm not some perfect, immaculate omniscient being you know, no matter how much you worship me like one."
She loved his reactions to such comments, where his expression sobered and body almost stiffened, acknowledging through non-acknowledgment how he was on the defensive.
"Nice to know the only track you're on is heading right where I want you."
Jon couldn't hide his smile for how thick she was laying on the charm, tormenting him that she was in that kind of mood and thousands of miles separated them, a thought which stuck out in his mind for a minute of silence.
"While we're on the subject of 'where,' why do you have the lamp on and the curtains closed? Shouldn't it be light there now?"
